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Hey, Big Guy (Complete Story 6/25/19)


TQuintA

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Chapter 8

            I spent most of my Saturday at the theater with Dave learning my blocking.  I’d passed out immediately after having dinner, even though I’d intended on enjoying myself a few more times before sleeping.  My day really took it out of me.

            Dave woke me up at dawn, but I’d slept for almost ten hours and was full of energy, even without my usual coffee.  He threw me in the shower and stood outside the stall, shouting instructions the whole time so I didn’t ruin my hair.  We had a large and boring breakfast—mostly protein enriched oatmeal (who knew that was a thing?)—and then went to Dave’s favorite tanning salon.

            “I’d prefer to do it with the sun,” Dave sighed, “but we don’t have the time.”

            While I was being baked—nude so I didn’t have tan lines (apparently that mattered)—we ran over our lines again.  By the time I had a tawny hue, I had the script down cold.

            Saturday morning and afternoon were likely the most repetitive hours of my life.  The same scene, over and over again, for hours.  We only took one break for lunch.  Dave was mostly happy.  Mostly.  I couldn’t cry on cue.  Despite that, he actually told me I had a knack for acting.  If acting was always this repetitive, it wasn’t for me.

            At one point, I asked Dave why he cared so much about this showcase.  It was just one scene.  It wasn’t a full play or anything.

            “It’s the senior showcase,” Dave answered.  “Only seniors get to be in it, and it’s the first show of the school year.  You do well in the showcase, you have your pick of parts for the rest of the year.”

            “So, this is important?” I asked.

            “Only very.”  He dismissed my worry with a flippant hand gesture.  “You’ll be fine.”

            Curtain was seven, and ours was the last scene in the showcase, but we started getting into costume at five.  It has never, in my life, taken me two hours to dress.  But Dave agonized over every little aspect of every last thing.  I was bigger than his former scene partner, so we switched costumes so both of our costumes were slightly tight.  I was using Dave’s belt at a notch just below the one he normally used, so he got me a whole new belt so the leather wouldn’t look worn around one of the holes.  I had trouble sitting still as Dave applied my make-up, and Dave had to try three foundations to find the one that matched my new tan.  Despite the meticulous, painstaking detail-work, Dave never lost his temper or got frustrated.  He was in his element.

            When it was finally time for us to go on, I was completely calm.  In less than 48 hours, Dave had fully prepared me.  I could’ve done the scene blindfolded.

            Which was good, because the only thing he didn’t tell me was how bright stage lights are.  It was like staring in the sun.

            When the lights came up on our scene, I heard a familiar voice come from the audience.

            “Yes!  Rock on!” James cheered and applauded loudly.  I heard a rustle of commotion in what I could only imagine was Luke pulling James back down into his seat.

            The scene went perfectly.  I didn’t drop a line, I did everything Dave had told me to do.  I even managed to work up two or three tears at the end of the scene.  Doing it in front of an audience just made it more real, somehow, and the tears came naturally.

            But when the scene ended, the audience was dead silent.

            “Dammit!”  I thought.  “I ruined Dave’s big scene.  He’ll never forgive me…”

            That’s as far as I got in my self-doubt before the audience exploded into an eruption of applause.  I tried to squint through the stage lights, and it looked like everyone was standing.  Luke was loudest above all.

            When the curtains fell, I turned to Dave to congratulate him, and he tackled me in a hug.

            “You were phenomenal!” Dave said.

            “Me?  Did you hear them cheer for you?”

            “Us, Chrissy.  They were cheering for us.  I’ve never had such a dedicated scene partner in my life.  You never complained, you just put in the work.”  He melted into a smile.  “Next time we have to cram for chemistry, remind me of tonight so I don’t complain.”

            I was about to crack a joke, when Dave interrupted me.

            “Oh,” he said coolly.  “My old scene partner has made his way backstage to congratulate me.  I must needs rub my success in his face.”  With that, Dave left me.

            I was only alone for a few second before I felt a swift slap on my ass.

            “Now that’s what I’m talking about, babe!” Luke shouted.  I spun around, completely shocked.   “Chris!  Buddy!  Sorry!  Dave really made you look like him.”

            I rubbed my ass—he’d slapped it really hard.  “Your Dave’s over there,” I said, pointing to the other side of the stage, where Dave was uproariously reenacting the very scene we’d just performed.

            “Thanks.  Sorry again,” Luke said sheepishly as he ran to his boyfriend.

            No sooner had Luke gone then James came backstage, raced up to me, lifted me in the air, and spun me.  Even with all my new bulk, James was strong enough to lift me effortlessly.  His arms wrapped all the way around my waist and met his elbows on the other side he was holding me so tightly.  “You were spectacular.”  After we’d made two complete circles, he put me back down.

            “Thanks.”

            “No, for real.  I really thought you were a mirror.”

            “Thank you, James,” I said through a laugh.

            “I like you blond.  You should keep it.”

            “Maybe.”

            Luke walked back over to us.  “Come on, James.  Let’s go outside where there’s some air.”

            “Just let me get changed,” I said, “and we can all walk to the party together.”

            I changed in a flash, and we were on our way to the party.  It was in a communal house off campus populated entirely by theater majors.  The party was much more my scene.  There was a DJ playing music, a designated dance area, and a rainbow of alcohol.  A throng of buzzing people milled about, talking, telling stories.  A small circle formed around Dave and me as we took turns recounting how we’d crowded a month’s worth of rehearsals into two days.  No one asked how I got big so quickly.  No one seemed to care.  But everyone told me how good I looked.  Whenever that happened, Dave said, “Thank you.”

            I wasn’t much of a drinker, but it was a party, so I asked Dave if I could drink.  “You don’t need a permission slip.  I’m not in charge of your food anymore, puppy.”  He handed me a light beer.  “But you might want to stick to these if you want to keep that girlish figure.”

            The night progressed with the four of us dancing (with each other and with other people), and more laughter, and the thirtieth recitation of how Dave and I had rehearsed.  We were apparently the highlight of the showcase. 

            After my third light beer, I turned to Dave and asked, “Do light beers have less alcohol than normal beers?”

            “No, why?”

            “Normally, after my second beer I’m sleepy and after my third beer I’m comatose.”

            “Ah,” Dave understood.  “There’s more of you to soak up the booze.  Pace yourself until you learn your new limit.”

            That was an unexpected upside to my new physique.  Deciding not to push my luck, I went to the kitchen, took an unopened bottle of water from the fridge, and headed back to the dance floor.  By the time I got back, Dave and Luke were intimately grinding up on each other, and James was in the corner having an intense conversation, so I decided to just dance by myself.

            “Mind if I cut in?” a familiar voice asked.

            It was Victor.

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Chapter 11

            I spent Sunday recuperating from the prior two days.  I didn’t leave my room except to go the bathroom.  James, Dave, Luke, and I crashed hard after the party, and we decided to have a mellow day hanging out in the room, just like old times.  We ordered in food and watched terrible movies from Hong Kong and played a few rounds of Luke’s new video game.  I didn’t feel bulky or augmented or hung—I just felt like me again.  Because Sunday felt like any other Sunday for the past few years, some part of me thought my life was going back to normal after two crazy days.

            But there was no going back to normal, and Monday showed me that.

            Dave picked my outfit and helped me figure out a hairstyle that was less demanding and high-maintenance than his.  We didn’t want to look like twins anymore, after all.

            As soon as I left the dorm, things felt different.  I was used to a sedan in my driveway, and now I had an SUV.  The jeans Dave had bought me were tight, of course, so every movement reminded me that I was packing three extra inches and some heavy balls.  The denim kept bunching up and drawing attention to my bulge, and I could swear I was warping the zipper.

            On top of that, I’d only been this new size for a few days, so I was still getting used to my dimensions.  I slammed into a few people because I thought there was room for us both, and there wasn’t.

            I was also getting far more attention.  I was used to being unremarkable in a crowd, but now people would openly stare at me.  When I caught them, I’d smile and wave.  I might as well be friendly.  Some were so brazen as to point at my crotch.  When I caught those people, I’d thrust my crotch in their direction.  I might as well give them a show.

            Before I even got to my first class, a guy I’d had a history class with last year ran up to me.  I recognized his face, but I didn’t remember his name.  He reintroduced himself.  He’d seen the showcase and was wondering if I was dating anyone.

            I considered telling him about Victor, but I was pretty sure that was a casual thing.  So, I told him I wasn’t, and we set up a date for later in the week.

            I was going to have to get used to people hitting on me.  In the past, I’d always been the aggressor—otherwise I never had dates.  It was fun to be pursued.

            My first class was calculus.  Few people want to discuss advanced mathematics so early on a Monday morning, so the classroom was usually tomb silent.  When I got there, though, the room burst into a flurry of conversation.  A handful of people said hello to me.  By name.  One even complimented me on the showcase.  I took my seat in the front row, and class began.  Fifteen minutes into class, the guy behind me asked if we could switch seats.  He was having trouble paying attention because my back and shoulders were distracting him. 

            I was a distraction.

            The morning went on like this.  People I didn’t even remember meeting greeted me.  I made two more dates with two more cute guys.  Even one bold woman asked me out.  I let her down gently.

            I was going to have to work hard not to get a big ego.  That’s one part of me I didn’t want to grow.

            At lunch, I told the guys about all the people staring at me.  “That’s the price you pay for being hot,” James said simply.

            Dave and Luke nodded in agreement.

            “You were always cute,” Luke said.  “Now you’re a stud like us.  You’ll adjust.”

            I was about to interject when Victor came over to the table.

            “Hey, Chris,” he said.

            “Victor,” I said.  “I think you’ve met Luke.”  They waved at each other.  “This is his boyfriend Dave.”

            Dave extended his hand and said, “Enchanté.”

            Victor reluctantly shook Dave’s hand.  “Nice to meet you.”

            “And this is James,” I finished.

            “Nice to meet you too.”  Victor put out his hand for James to shake.  James stared at Victor’s hand as though it were a riddle that needed to be solved.

            “He doesn’t shake hands,” I explained.

            “Okay,” Victor said, withdrawing his hand.  “I was just wondering, if you’re not doing anything on Friday night, I was hoping we could do something.”

            “I already have plans Friday night.  But I can do a Saturday afternoon or a Thursday night,” I said honestly.

            “Thursday it is, then,” Victor said and scurried away.

            “What plans do you have for Friday?” Dave asked.

            I told them about all the dates I’d been making.

            Luke grinned that cheesy smile.  “I am so proud of you, buddy.”  He extended his hand and hovered it over my shoulder.  “How big do you want to get for your dates?”

            I shrank away from his hand.  “Until I can figure out exactly how my new size is going to affect my life,” I told the guys, “I think I want to stay this size, at least for a while.”

            Luke looked and sounded dubious.  “If that’s what you think you want” he said, withdrawing his hand.

            I didn’t know if that’s what I wanted, but I needed some time to figure out what I did want.  Suddenly, opportunities and options never available to me were mine for the taking.  I needed time to adjust. 

            Over the next few weeks, I did just that.  I never minded being the center of attention, so that was the easiest part to accept.  My body took a little longer.  But by the end of the first week, I had stopped walking into people, and I got used to carrying around a semi-automatic weapon.  And, oh, did I have a lot of sex.  Multiple guys, multiple nights, multiple positions.

            With the exception of Victor, all the guys I dated were now smaller than me.  I’d always been the skinny guy, and there was something alluring about being bigger.  In fact, I had a new favorite position: standing.  As long as I had a wall for leverage, I was now strong enough to hold a smaller guy in my arms and fill his ass completely, lifting him up and down on my cock.  It was incredibly hot to use my new muscles and length at the same time.  I’d always preferred topping, and there was nothing more thrilling that having the body to match.

            Keeping Victor in the rotation was only a slight obstacle.  I didn’t want a repeat of our first performance, so I told him that dirty talk during sex made me feel cheap.

            “But you asked me to…” Victor started to object.

            I interrupted.  “That night, I wanted to feel cheap.”

            “Got it.”  He took the cue, and from then on, we had intense, wordless sex.

            Thankfully, the men on campus weren’t after me just for sex.  Call me a hopeless romantic, but ideally, I wanted something like Luke and Dave had.  Maybe not exactly like their relationship, but something in that general vicinity.  So, whenever a guy asked me out, if all he wanted was sex, it was a hard pass.  Sex was no longer in short supply for me.  If it was a proper date, I’d give him a spin.  We went to dance clubs, to movies, to karaoke, to dinners, to parties.  Victor even invited me to one of his basketball practices.

            I also made sure to make time in my schedule for school.  I wasn’t going to let my grades fall.  In fact, chem lab was my favorite place.  With my white lab coat over my clothes, no one could see my augmented physique or ever-present bulge, and so I was just Chris again.

            Of course, I hung out with my guys as often as I could.  Dave would touch up my roots every few days, and we used the time to gossip.  Luke and I had the occasional video game session.  James even took up sunbathing with me.  Well, his version of it.  While I sunbathed, he laid down next to me, fully dressed.  But I enjoyed the company.  I also had a class with each of them, we had lunch together every day, and we even worked in a daily group trip to the gym before breakfast at the cart.  Dave had worked out a meal plan that I could live with, even with the occasional plate of fries.  Luke and James had created a workout regimen that would help me maintain my muscles.  My dedication to the gym seemed to inspire them, too, especially James.  He attacked the weights with almost religious zeal.  He was easily the largest of us, and he was working to keep it that way.  And I had the best seat in the house to watch.

            The only part of my new life I hadn’t fully adjusted to was walking through a gym and no longer being the smallest guy.  Guys I’d seen a dozen times in the gym who wouldn’t have given me the time of day suddenly had one of two reactions.  If he was straight, he glowered and puffed up his chest like a gorilla showing dominance.  I gave them a wide berth and internally pitied them.  If he was gay or bi (or undecided), he said hello.  It probably helped that no matter what gym shorts I wore, they were tight around my ass and my bulge.  Every trip to the gym, none of the guys who said hello to me made eye contact.  Some made it as high as my pecs, but most stared squarely at my crotch.  One guy even offered to take me into the steam room for a hand job.  Just like that.  Right out on the floor in front of my friends.  I declined.

            “Look at you, buddy, turning down sex,” Luke said as I worked through my set of curls.

            I grunted with exertion.  “I don’t like being reduced to my cock,” I said.  I did another rep.  “There’s a person attached to these genitals.”

            Dave smiled coyly.  “These days, there’s a lot of people attached to your genitals.”

            I had to laugh.  He wasn’t wrong.

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Chapter 12

            “I have a favor to ask,” Luke said.  It was a Wednesday afternoon, almost four weeks after the showcase.

            “Oh?” I mumbled, just articulately enough to demonstrate I was only half-listening.  I had a huge math set to finish, an important lab report to write, and a philosophy essay to research, and I wanted as much of it done before the weekend so I could continue to have a full social life.

            “I think you might even like it,” he added.

            “Yeah?”  I didn’t look up from my homework.

            “Can you pause the trig, buddy?”

            “Calc,” I said.  I put down my pen and turned around in my desk chair to look at him.  “Okay.  You have my full attention.”

            “Every year, the soccer team does a big charity fundraiser.”

            “Yeah,” I agreed.  “Last year you did that shirtless car wash.”

            “Exactly.  Since that did so well, this year we decided to do a calendar.”

            “Perfect stocking stuffer.”

            “And we decided to do something like Dieux du Stade.”

            “The guys on your soccer team have heard of Dieux du Stade?”

            “Dave suggested it.”

            “That makes more sense.”  I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

            “We already booked the cameraman, non-refundable deposit…”

            After Luke paused for a few seconds, I filled in the blanks.  “No.”

            “We don’t have enough guys.”

            “Aren’t there 30 guys on your soccer team?”

            “28.  Only 11 guys volunteered.”

            “Shouldn’t you have realized this before you paid the cameraman?”

            “You have to book a professional weeks in advance.  Originally, more guys volunteered.  Until they Googled Dieux du Stade.  By then it was too late.”

            “They don’t want to go Full Monty.”

            “Exactly.  Especially since you’re packing these days, I figured you’d be up for it.”

            “You over-estimate my confidence.”

            “Do I?”  Luke smiled lasciviously.

             “I guess not.”  The thought of posing nude for a camera was actually thrilling; it was everything else that was a red flag.

            “You’ll be the twelfth guy?”  Luke was keen.

            “Just do a group shot for the twelfth month.  Merry Christmas; here’s eleven studs.”

            “The group shot’s the cover.”

            “So do two group shots.”

            “That would be cheap.  This is for charity, buddy.  We want it to be a big seller”

            “Get your Dave to do it.  It was his idea, and he’s always talking about how he could be in a pin-up calendar.”

            “Dave wants a calendar all to himself.  Also, he’s not on the soccer team.”

            “Neither am I.”  This was getting ridiculous.

            “About that.”

            I turned my desk chair around in an attempt to end the conversation.

            Luke came over to my chair, spun it back around, and crouched down so we were at eye level.  “One of our teammates is transferring in late October, so we won’t have a full roster for the end of the season.  I talked to the coach and the guys on the team, and they were willing to give you a special tryout.”

            “That’s absurd on the face of it.”

            “They only agreed because they want you in the calendar.”

            “Why?”

            “You don’t know the rep you’ve built in the past month.  You got hot overnight, and now you’re a campus sex symbol.  Three different guys a week, easy.  And you had loud sex at a party with the captain of the basketball team.  People, even some straight guys, want to see you naked.  You in the calendar would guarantee half of campus buys one.”

            “Get James to do it.  He’s hotter than I am.”

            “James would never pose nude, and you know it.  Not to mention that most people find James weird.”

            “James is beyond weird.  That’s part of his charm.”

            “Try out for the team.  If you don’t make the team, you don’t have to do it.”

            “I don’t even know the rules of soccer.”

            “But you’ve come to a bunch of my games.”

            “And I cheered when our school cheered,” I admitted.

            “You don’t know the rules?”

            “Get ball in net.  Past that, I’m fuzzy.”

            Luke sat on the floor, looking slightly defeated.

            “It’s not that big of a deal.  There are a thousand other solutions to this problem.”

            “It’s not just about the team.  I wanted to do this together.”

            I looked at him, confused.

            “It’s our last year of college, buddy.  We’ve been friends since, what?  Seventh grade?  Sixth?  After we graduate, we might go entirely different ways.  I hope we don’t.  But you never know.  And you did the showcase with Dave, and I wanted something like that too.  Something that was the two of us.  Training you for the tryout.  Intense and alone.  Then playing a game with you on the field, Dave cheering in the stands.”

            Luke was dead serious.  I looked over to my wall calendar to see if I could rearrange things to fit in soccer training and saw the next day’s date.  I let out a defeated sigh.

            “Consider this your birthday present,” I said.

            “Was that a yes?”

            “I’ll try out for the team.  I make no other guarantees.”

            Luke jumped to his feet.  “The tryout is Friday afternoon.”

            I’d have to finish my homework on Sunday.

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Chapter 13

            By the time I went to bed that night, I was well enough versed in the rules of soccer even if I still needed a flowchart to know what did and did not count as offsides.

            I tried one last time to talk him out of this: “Wouldn’t you rather spend your birthday with your boyfriend?”

            Luke shook his head no, but there was a look in his eyes I couldn’t quite read.  “Good night, buddy.  Tomorrow we start training.”

            And he meant it.

            He dragged me out of bed at 5 AM when it was still dark outside.  He threw some workout clothes on me and took me to the gym for a quick warm up.  That at least woke me up, which was good because I knew pretty quickly that I wasn’t going to get coffee.  We didn’t even go to the cart for breakfast; we went to the cafeteria.  For breakfast.  Like common freshmen.

            Then it was to the athletic center on the far end of campus, about a mile from the dorms.  The gym was near the dorms and cafeteria and was open to anyone with a student ID.  Even some of the professors worked out there.  The athletic center was for the sports teams only.  I had never set foot inside.  It was on this walk that I realized why Luke always had sunglasses on him: we were walking directly into the sunrise.  I had to squint and look down at the ground or I’d go blind.

            “Another workout?” I asked, looking at the clock in the lobby.  It was 6:30. “I have to wake up for class in an hour.”

            “Drills,” Luke said.  “And don’t worry.  I’ll get you to class on time.”

            I spent the next hour kicking balls into targets a range of shapes and sizes and distances away.  I’m sure the exercises were practicing different skills, but it seemed like slight variations on the same theme.  The biggest challenge was keeping my own balls out of the way.  They kept hefting up and down as I kicked, moving independently of the rest of my body.  I even distracted myself a few times watching them sway to and fro.

            At 7:30, Luke let me shower in the facility even though I wasn’t a member of any sport team.  Luke made it seem like a big honor, but I just wanted to wash off the sweat of the morning.  I lingered a few minutes longer than it normally took me to shower just to feel the hot water cavalcade down my back and across my chest.  The water pressure in this facility was amazing.  It felt like the showerhead was massaging my body, like the waterdrops were a thousand comforting hands working through my muscles.  It was so intoxicating, but I had to go to class.

            Luke walked me to my 8 AM class where he handed me off to James, and after the monotony of my morning, I was relieved for the mental stimulation, and philosophy was usually my least favorite class.

            When class got out at 9:30, I expected Luke to grab me in the hall and drag me back to the nets.  Instead, James asked me to join him for breakfast at the cart.  I figured Luke would find me when he was ready.

            When we got to the cart, there Luke was with a viscous shake and a protein bar.

            “I don’t know how you can ingest those,” I said honestly.

            “Oh, I’m not.  You are.”  He handed them to me and patted me on the back.  I went to sit on the grass next to James, but Luke restrained me.  “Nope.  Finish those quick.”  He produced his bag, seemingly out of nowhere, and pulled out more of my gym clothes.  “As soon as you’re done, change in the library bathroom.  It’s time to run.  Oh,” he added, pulling out a brand-new jock strap, still in its package.  “I got this for you.  It’s got the largest pouch they had.  As much fun as it was to watch you bounce like Jell-o, we don’t want you hurting yourself.”

            The jock strap did nothing to minimize my package, but I was fascinated how it held everything in its place.  Luke didn’t let me admire the garment, though, because it was time to run.

            I had expected to run around campus, maybe up a flight of stairs like Rocky, but instead we ran to the athletic center again.  And then Luke introduced me to something called “wind sprints.”  It was grueling.  For an hour, he had me running as fast as I could for varying distances.  Sure, there were breaks in between the sprints, but by the end, I never wanted to run again.  My shirt adhered to my pecs, and there was a dark shadow that extended from my armpits to the center of my chest.  Each of my abs was individually visible through my shirt as the waterfall of sweat had suctioned the shirt against my skin.

            At the end of my torture, Dave walked in to check in on us.  “How’s it going?” he asked after kissing Luke on the cheek.  He handed me a bottle of water, and I gladly downed it in one go.

            “His stamina’s pretty good, but his speed could use work,” Luke said.

            Dave looked me up and down, scrutinizing me.  “Are you sure you want to do this, Chrissy?  Out of breath isn’t a good color for you.  Though I give the wardrobe an A+.”

            In between puffs of air, I managed, “I’m doing this for your boyfriend.”

            “I’m pushing him beyond his limits,” Luke said.  “In a normal game, he wouldn’t have to go this hard all at once.”

Dave turned back to Luke.  “Don’t kill him before chemistry tomorrow.  I need his notes.”

            Luke let me shower again under that luxurious showerhead before lunch at the cafeteria.  My legs were swollen and tired, and they felt heavy.  I could see every line and sinew in my thighs, and the water trickled through them like rivulets down a cracked sidewalk.  It took all my will power to leave the shower.

            At lunch, I tried to engage in the conversation, but all I could think about was my afternoon class.  Right after lunch, I had senior seminar—a class only for chem majors—and it was the hardest of my five classes. 

            “I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered to James.

            “You have lunch every day,” James said encouragingly.  “Just take it one bite at a time.  You got this.”

            “Not lunch, James.  I don’t think I can make the soccer team.”

            Dave slammed his fork on the table.  “I will have no secret murmurings at our lunch table, young men.  Share with the rest of the class.”

            “Chris is worried he can’t make the soccer team,” James said.

            “I didn’t want them to know that.”

            “But… the fork…” James was lost in a fog again.

            “You’ll be fine buddy.  You’re in great shape.”

            “You’ve worked out with us every morning for a month,” Dave said.

            “Yeah.  One workout a day.  Luke’s already put me through three or four.  And I’m sure he’s got more for me after seminar.”

            “Tackling and dribbling,” Luke confirmed.

            “You do this every day?” I asked Luke.

            “Normally, it’s a bit more spread out, but essentially, yeah.”

            “How do you have any time for class, or hanging with us, or dating?”

            “My course load is not as intense as yours.  And I make the time for you guys because you keep me sane.  If I didn’t have you guys, I wouldn’t be able to put up with the schedule either.  I even skipped an away game to see Dave’s showcase.”

            Dave snuggled up close to his Luke.

            My respect for Luke had gone way up.

            James tapped my shoulder and pointed to the clock on the cafeteria wall.  “Time for your class.”

            I whimpered.

            “If you give your all, I promise we can soak in the hot tub at the athletic center tonight,” Luke said.

            Dave cleared his throat.

            “And by we, I mean you, me, and Dave.”

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Their foursome chemistry is sp great but we need to learn mre about James. He it's so different from the other three. How did they become friends?

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