Reaching into the dirt, you pulled the small shimmering object from the ground, discovering in fact that it
was a very plain, very ordinary looking, plain gold ring. "Rats, and here's me thinking it might be a piece of
old Aztec gold or something," you chuckled, wiping the much from rings surface. It must belong to one of the
students you thought, as you examined closely, finding that there appeared to be no markings or engravings or
anything to indicate who it belonged to. "Oh well, guess I'll drop it off in the lost and found," you
shrugged, shoving the ring into your pocket and pulling yourself back together, the effect of the football to
your chest gradually having worn off.
You briefly gazed over towards the pack of jocks still messing around with said football on the campus lawn,
recognizing one or two of them from the fraternity house next to your dorm. "Dicks!" you said under your
breath as you noticed two of them pointing at you and laughing, re-enacting your collision and taking great
pleasure in ridiculing you. Not that you needed much help in that respect, having completely made a fool of
yourself even before your utter lack of athletic prowess and ability to catch a football came into play. You
were certainly no Olympian when it came to sports that's for sure, lacking the required coordination and
skill, being what one might consider "clumsy" ever since you were small. Maybe that's where you were going
wrong you pondered as you put your head down and made your way towards your dorm, what girl would want to go
out with some scrawny little geek when there were plenty of muscle blown jocks around with IQ's smaller than
their shoe size?
"Bah, just don't think about it Simon, don't think about it," you chanted to yourself, a mantra you'd been
using for quite a few years now. "Just go home and find Mike, he'll cheer you up."
The Mike in question was your roommate, a real cool guy, funny and sharp witted, without being up himself like
a lot of people around here. Like you he wasn't particularly athletic either or much for having his head stuck
in a book, lazy possibly being the word that sprung to mind (at least when it came to work). Unlike you
however Mike was actually considered quite popular throughout your year, perhaps not with the girls so much
(though he would often assure you he was), but more with the slacker, partying crowd, everyone in your dorm
building knowing that if a party was on, Mike was the first guy on the list.
"Hey hey buddy, hows it hanging?" Mike's friendly voice greeted you as you walked in your room, lying on his
bed, still in his underwear casually flicking through a magazine, "Class over already?"
"Classes, plural. More than one," you informed him, all too aware that he hadn't been to any of them, the fact
that he was dressed in only his boxers indicating that he'd more than likely only just got up. "Busy day?" you
asked as you threw down your bag and slumped back onto the chair beside your desk.
"Busy night buddy, busy night. I didn't get back here till like 5 in the morning. I tell you that party was
tight!" he grinned, looking particularly satisfied.
"I know, I heard you come in. If you're gonna stay up half the night, can't you at least go and crash in one
of your "girlfriend's" rooms?"
Aware that you were mocking him, Mike simply shook his head, throwing his magazine down on the floor and
jumping off the bed. "Think what you want Simon," he continued to grin as he headed into the bathroom, "Just
cause I'm getting some and you're not, there's no need to be jealous now."
"Jealous, yeah right," you smirked under your breath as Mike disappeared from view, certain that one day you'd
get to the bottom of the tales of his "many conquests" sooner or later.
"Speaking of the ladies though, how'd it go with whats-her-face?" he called back out, his voice warped with
the sound of brushing teeth, "That girl from your English lit class...you were gonna ask her out, right?"
You didn't reply, still feeling too embarrassed by the incident to even tell your friend, having hoped that
he'd take your mind off of that particular exchange, not immediately ask about it. "This is probably why I
shouldn't tell him everything I do," you thought, having been bouncing the idea of asking Jenna out off of him
for the past two weeks.
"Simon?" Mike's voice continued, waiting expectantly for a reply, his head appearing a moment later behind the
door with toothpaste dribbling down his chin. "Don't keep me hanging here dude, you ask her out or what?"
Letting out a deep sigh and flipping open your laptop, you looked back up at your friend and mumbled rather
non comitantly, "Kinda..." hoping that would satisfy him while you distracted yourself with your computer.
"Kinda? What do you mean Kinda?"
"Oh well, here it comes," you thought, realizing that you'd just opened yourself up a can of worms, thinking
it might have just been better to tell him you hadn't asked her yet, resigned now to the fate of filling in
your friend about your feeble efforts.
"Oh shit dude, that's weak," Mike laughed, once the story was over, "I mean even for you dude, that's weak as
hell. You got to grow yourself some balls, you can't be afraid of woman all your life."
"I'm not afraid of woman!" you protested.
"Oh yeah, really? When was the last time you even had a date?"
"I...not, uh...not that long ago..." you mumbled, trailing off at the end, feeling a little embarrassed and
actually proving his point, realizing the last time you properly gone out with a girl was back in high school
in the 10th grade (and the only reason you'd actually managed to pop your cherry being large quantity's of
alcohol, a drunk and horny heavyset girl and a broken dorm room lock at freshers week), your social
awkwardness and lack of confidence getting in the way far too much since then.
"Exactly! We're college dudes now Simon, these are the best years of our lives. You've got to lose all your
stupid hang ups and just do what feels right, bite the bullet and just ask this Gemma girl out."
"Jenna."
"Jenna, Gemma, Genie, whatever," Mike flippantly replied, strangely having a hard time remembering the girl
you were interested in's name but not the wide variety he supposedly hooked up with every night (reeling them
off like he was reading from a grocery list). "The point is, stop over-thinking it and just do it! And soon,
I'm starting to worry about you, anymore of this moping around talking about your feelings all day and you're
gonna start turning into a woman yourself!"
You couldn't help but laugh at that, considering for a moment that it would certainly save all the humiliation
and heart-break if you could just frig yourself off alone at home everyday.