Many thanks to papaya_lynne for helping with editing.
That's all I really wanted. I wanted to be left alone. I was nice, followed the rules, was fairly naive, and had some geeky tendencies, which means I was a perfect target to be picked on. My sophomore and junior years of high school were a particularly wan shade of hell. The low self-esteem, loathing to go to school, fear of turning the corner and seeing my tormenters, essentially robbed me of two years of my life. I went to a small private school, so with a graduating class of 37, there weren't many places to go to get away from it. My situation wasn't as bad as some I have heard of since I joined the ranks of the working man, but none the less, I was miserable. Years later, when I heard about the tragedy at Columbine High School, I realized that a new era had begun. One awkward kid who kills himself in a fit of depression is just one kid that we didn't get to in time. Two kids who take guns to their high school and eliminate their perceived antagonists, and anyone else who gets in their way, before turning the guns on themselves is an indication of a national epidemic of bullying behavior that must be addressed and remedied. There are now tens of thousands of unnamed kids who will find help when they eventually turn to a trusted teacher, parent, or mentor, and their suffering can end. The gunmen of Columbine are murderers and heroes.
Fortunately, I found a way to escape without resorting to a gun. The Drama Club. I could remove myself from my situation and be anyone, anywhere, any time. This was the ultimate in escapism. I no longer had to come up with witty lines and slick moves. My words and actions were prepared for me.
After high school, I went to a large college where, finally, I was a number. One student out of 25,000. I blended in, and no one noticed me.
I did, however, retain my penchant for the theater. My primary motivation was getting a role where pretty girls would be forced to kiss me. I took drama classes even though I was a computer science major, and I became heavily involved in the student-run theater. After a couple of roles and some tech work (lighting, set construction, etc.) I was approached to play a villain in a Shakespearian-era play because someone had to drop out. I have a good English accent, and a decent amount of agility. I got to sword fight, run one guy through, cut out a girl's tongue, and poison two people. What fun!
After the Saturday evening performance, Karen, one of the girls in my Shakespearian class, came up to me with a twinkle in her eye and a sly sneer on her face. I put on my most innocent face. She was very cute, about four inches shorter than me, with dishwater blond hair, and eyes so blue that I was sure they were contacts, although she assured me they weren't. She was not skinny, but her curves only made her walk more captivating. She tended toward black in her wardrobe, but then again, so did most people in the drama department.
"You bastard," she said, after a long pause.
"Thank you very much," I replied, sincerely appreciating her compliment.
"How can you be such a bastard on stage and such a nice guy in class?" she challenged.
And in one of those rare moments where I knew exactly what to say, I replied, "I would love to discuss that with you in great detail. Have you had dinner?"
"No, I haven't." With that, she looped her arm in mine, and we walked down to 9th St. to get a bite.
We spent a long time that night at the fast food place talking. What I pulled down waiting tables made this the expensive night of the week. They threw us out when they closed, so I walked her to her dorm. We lingered at the front door to her building.
"Well... thanks for dinner," she placed her hands in mine.
"You're welcome. Thank you for coming to see the play," I said as I pulled her a little closer.
"We should do dinner again some time," she said, pulling away from me a little.
"I'd like that."
With that, she moved forward quickly and pressed her lips against mine, and just as quickly, she moved away and slipped through her door with a "'Bye" as she disappeared.
The next thing I remember is arriving at the steps of my house.
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It took a couple of dates, but pretty soon we were spending every waking moment with each other. School and work got in the way, but other than that, I followed Karen around like a lost puppy. She didn't seem to mind.
After about a month of this, I finally made the crossing into manhood. It was awkward and halting, but we managed to get through it. We then devoted lots and lots of time to practicing. I soon came to the realization that for guys, sex is easy. Enough stimulation, and bang, the next thing you know, you're snoring. The trick is to get the girl off. Make it more fun for her, and it will be a lot hotter in the bedroom.
I paid close attention to what Karen liked and didn't like. I also did some studying on the internet. I was soon proficient in making sure everyone had a good time every time. Karen volunteered that I was the best sex she had ever had. No guy in his right mind would ask that question. Why would you put a girl on the spot with the potential of REALLY deflating your self image? I told her that she was the best sex I ever had. It was true. She was also the only sex I ever had.
********
During these days of coital bliss, I would meet her in front of the theater department to go to lunch. One particular day, she left her purse in class and went back to retrieve it, urging me to go ahead and get a table at Hector's, our restaurant of choice, which was right across the street from the drama building. I started slowly across the quad, when I heard her call my name. I spun around and continued walking backward toward the street, when I ran into a brick wall. I went to the ground like a rag doll, books and papers flying everywhere.
