Page 101 of Frat Ghost Wingman

MATEO

Damn it.

For what seemed like the fortieth time this semester, I wanted to burn my Calculus book.

It had only been three weeks.

“You should ask Zach for help.”

“Easy for you to say, Jake.”

Now that Zach and I were together, I hadn’t heard as much from Jake but he was still around. And it was still weird.

For a few days, I considered dropping the class, but the deadline had long passed and I wasn’t going to earn a ‘W’ on my permanent transcript for withdrawing.

It didn’t help that the professor’s office hours were non-existent and the TA didn’t want to waste his energy on a jock. When I pointed out he needed to help any student asking for it, he made some comment about frat bros whining to their rich daddies and I didn’t stay to hear the rest. He wasn’t the type of person I wanted help from anyway.

“Have I steered you wrong? I seem to recall that you enjoy sucking Zach’s dick? Who made that happen?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The one person who could help me was the one person I didn’t want to ask…because when we did have time together, I wanted to be cuddling or milking another load out of his cock with my tongue.

We still hadn’t fucked, but he had stuck a menagerie of sex toys up there. I didn’t want to jinx it, but I thought he might be waiting for Valentine’s Day.

Because Zach was a romantic. Horny like me, but still a romantic.

And I didn’t want to fuck up our delightful existence with my struggles with secant lines and estimated derivatives. Maybe Evan could help?

Teo: Let’s work out.

And by help I meant distract me by working up a sweat.

Evan: What do you think I am?

Evan: Your emotional support workout buddy?

Evan: Ready to workout with you within seconds of a text?

Teo: Yes.

Two seconds later.

Evan: Meet you at the gym.

I smiled.

“What’s up your ass? I was about to take a nap.” I glanced up from my seat on the floor to find Evan smiling down at me. “Wait, scratch that. I don’t wanna know anything about your ass.”

“Aw, too bad.” I finished my stretch. “No glutes today then?”

Evan sighed. “We can work on your glutes if you want. I know how perfect you want it to look for Zach. Is that what has you so riled up? The upcoming loss of your final cherry?”

“Fuck, no. It’s Calculus.”

Evan extended his hand to help me off the floor. “Isn’t Zach super good at math? Why don’t you ask him?”

I shrugged. “It’s complicated.”