Chapter 4: Jade

Friday, December 2, 2022

We stood in the lobby of the testing center, waiting for our Chemistry grades to show up on the screen. Fanny’s fingers were intertwined with mine for good luck. Around us were several other pre-med students in my year: Hannah Cole, Drew Kunjok, and Danny Thomas. Travis and Samuel were still taking their exams, going down to the wire of our allotted time to complete the test. The most recent scores usually took about five minutes to update on the screen. Then, the campus app would update about fifteen minutes later. Most people preferred waiting in the building to get the results quicker.

My sister, Opal, a high school senior, texted me.

Opal: How did it go?

Me: Still waiting...

Opal was very keen on hearing all about my experience at college this year because she was planning on joining me in less than a year. Last month, she was awarded the same scholarship as me and was chomping at the bit to get started on higher education. I was about to text her several emojis to go along with my text when my Student ID Number flashed at the top of the screen:

4418. Score: 96% A

I clenched my hand into a fist.

“Ow!” Fanny cried, pulling her fingers from my grip.

“Sorry!”

“Shit!” Danny yelled. “I can’t get another fucking B in Chemistry.”

Suddenly, I felt bad for getting an A. Hannah was the first to offer Danny some comfort. “Don’t worry. You still have the final exam. It’s worth a quarter of our final grade.”

“How am I gonna ace the final when I haven’t aced jack shit so far?”

Fanny crossed her arms and turned to Danny, pronouncing her words very precisely in that way she did. “Maybe you need to tap into your inner hidden well of humility and take us up on our offer to form a study group. Jade and I got As, and we study together three nights a week.”

“Excuse me, but how do you know my grade?” I asked. “I don’t know yours.”

Fanny acted like the answer was obvious. “I memorized your Student ID Number in the first month of school. 4418.”

“Don’t tell everybody!” I protested.

“I want to join your study group,” Drew said. He rarely spoke and usually in very short, muted responses. He had a notable African accent, but it only made his deep voice sound even sexier. “If it helps, I would be stupid not to do it.”

Danny gave Drew a hand clasp and a fist bump. “Yeah. Same. I shoulda done it back when you first asked. I’m sure Travis is gonna want to join, too.”

“Same with me,” Hannah said, turning her gorgeous eyes on me. “We’ve been silly not to work together. I have a couple of friends who might want to join, too. Sarah and Gretchen. I’ll talk to them and text you.”

“Finally, they come to their senses,” Fanny declared to nobody in particular. “Only took half of our freshman year to convince them.”

Fanny and I left the building buzzing about the chance to have a real study group. I texted my grades to Kitt and Marcy. Marcy was probably still at work. Kitt responded first with a gif of a monkey clapping. Then he texted me.

Kitt: We should celebrate. I know tonight is your study night, but if you want to go out...

Me: Sure! What time?

We figured out all the details in the following texts. Fanny immediately began texting all eight of us to organize our new study group while we went to the last Anatomy lab review session of the week. A few minutes after I arrived and donned my lab jacket, Marcy texted me.

Marcy: Woohoo! I’m so proud of you! Genius!

Me: Thx!

Marcy: Let’s do something to celebrate.

Me: LOL. Kitt had the same idea. Want to come out to dinner with us?

Marcy: Nah. That’s okay. You two have fun.

Me: What about tomorrow? Are we still hanging out?

Marcy: It depends. Me and my mom have plans. I’ll text you when we finish.

Fanny had been reading my texts over my shoulder. I saw the look in her eye when I put my phone away.

“What?” I asked her.

Fanny just shook her head. “You just don’t see it coming.”

“We are all doing fine, thank you very much.”

That evening, I showered, changed, and went out with Kitt. He took me to Texas Roadhouse. Not the most romantic spot. The noise was deafening, and we waited over an hour to be seated, but the food was always good. Afterward, we went to his place where Kitt undressed me, massaged my entire body with oil, and then, when my whole body was relaxed and my muscles felt like pulsing lumps of ooze, he slipped a finger into my cunt and gently probed me.

“Massaging my G-spot?” I asked. “You really go the extra mile.”

“Every massage should have a happy ending.”

And mine definitely did.

I woke naked in Kitt’s bed to my phone alarm ringing. Kitt had already left for work but had put out breakfast for me with a cute note. I ran her fingers through my hair, but it got caught in the clumps of dried cum which also coated part of my face, tits, and legs. Kitt and I had competed in a sexual marathon of sorts last night, seeing who could cum the most number of times. I had to have three orgasms for every one of his. He won when I extracted his third load while sucking on his shaft and balls. I only managed four orgasms. My boyfriend didn’t have the greatest stamina yet, but on the flip side, he had a short refractory time. Ultimately, I found it cute how he didn’t have much sexual experience.

My alarm for Saturday morning reminded me I had to work at the library with Velma and Marcos. I ate breakfast, showered quickly, and then hopped in my car for work. Marcos and Velma were both already there. Marcos waved as I hurried inside and clocked in while Velma scowled at me.

“I’m five minutes late, Velma. Sue me.”

Marcos was the sweetest guy. A third-year dental student at the dental school on our campus, he had a cute accent from his native Dominican Republic, though he hardly ever spoke. I’d never met anybody shier. But that hadn’t stopped me from becoming friends with him over the last few months working together.

On the other hand, Velma was a word I tried not to call people very often because my mother taught we shouldn’t judge others until we’ve walked a mile in their shoes. Velma was from Georgia and came to our college on a softball scholarship.

Her declared major, like mine, was pre-med. She was pretty in a southern belle way and very stuck up. She spoke with a massive Georgia twang, always styled her fake blonde hair, and never missed an opportunity to tell me that I was going to hell for dating a girl. Sometimes, when I looked into her aqua-blue eyes, I pretended I could see the depths of hell and me swimming around in those pools.

I’d complained multiple times about her to my boss, Marjorie. And each time, Marjorie reminded me that Velma was welcome to believe whatever she wanted, and what mattered was what I believed. I respected Marjorie for that on some level; it drove me bonkers on another level.

“Up late having lesbian sex again?” Velma asked in her twangy voice while I clocked in at my computer behind the check-out stations.

“Oh my gosh, yes!” I exclaimed with fake enthusiasm. “My girlfriend’s tongue got so far up my pussy. I felt it right here.” I tapped sensually on my throat. “I must have cum a hundred times all over her face. Then I—”

“You’re disgusting,” Velma said, turning away.

Conversely, Marcos got my joke and chuckled despite wearing a mildly embarrassed grin caused by my bawdy humor.

Marjorie French was our boss. She’d been working at the library since the beginning of time, even though she was only about forty years old. But she rarely worked Saturdays or Sundays, which meant Marcos was in charge on the weekends. My plan for work (since work was never hectic) was to text Marcy a lot, organize the first official meeting of my new study group, and get some Biology studying done.

Marcy did not answer any of my texts. This was a fairly common phenomenon when she was at work or spending time with her parents. Unlike most people my age, Marcy did not live and breathe with a smartphone in her hand. I tried very hard to be more like her. I didn’t use Snapchat or TikTok, but I did use Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. I had to keep up with my friends somehow.

Fanny, however, was the total opposite. She was constantly on social media. She had over twelve thousand followers on Instagram and TikTok with her cosplay dancing and made enough money to pay some of her bills. Since she was willing to respond, we texted back and forth about who we should invite to our study group. Fanny wanted the group to double as a fuck-buddy group. People she could tap when she needed to scratch an itch, so she didn’t have to use apps like Tinder, Badoo, or Bumble.

I reminded her the best way to encourage guys to join us was to invite an equal number of attractive women. Fanny argued this hurt her chances of getting laid. We debated this back and forth for most of the morning before I finally won her over when I said she was only competing with three other women for five guys since she was one of the girls and I was not looking for any hookups. We spent another hour settling on who we wanted to invite. We couldn’t extend invitations based on looks alone. We needed people who would take studying seriously and try to get the grades we needed to get accepted onto the pre-med track.

Fanny contacted everybody and asked them to meet at the library at 4 p.m. to review study group rules. I asked Marcos if it was okay if I popped in for a few minutes, and he agreed.

Before the meeting, I spent my free time researching how to run a study group effectively and found some great ideas. I decided to implement them in our first meeting. Everybody had to know that anybody who wasn’t considered a “contributor” would be asked to leave the group. I sent these ideas to Fanny, and she approved them all.

Fanny: Straight As or bust. And I have a REALLY good idea for motivation!

Our little group trickled in, starting about five minutes before 4 p.m. Fanny showed up first carrying a plate of brownies. Velma eyed her suspiciously before I informed her about our plans to create a group.

“What kind of brownies are those?” she asked in her typical drawling Southern voice.

“No nuts,” Fanny said, offering Velma one.

Velma curled her lip at them. “And where exactly do you plan on having this little meeting?”

“We need a study room. The largest one.”

“You know you can’t have sex in there, right?” I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not.

“We’ll try to contain ourselves,” Fanny said, smirking. She knew all about Velma and how much I disliked her.

Velma rolled her eyes and handed us the door key. “I will walk by and check on you.”

“I work here, too,” I said.

“Just reminding you,” Velma retorted. Then she shot me one more superior look and turned away.

Fanny and I doubled over laughing as we walked away. I set up the room and put Fanny’s treats on some plates I found in our employee break room. Fanny wrote a welcome message on the marker board. People trickled in for the next five minutes. I wondered if the others in the group knew how Fanny and I had intentionally chosen only attractive people to be in our group. It would have been obvious to anybody walking by the room.

Once everybody was present, I asked everybody to introduce themselves by sharing their name, where they were from, one hobby, and one interesting thing about themselves. Then they could take a brownie. I started with myself; then Fanny went next. She went on for over five minutes about her favorite anime and shared as her interesting factoid how she was the game master for a roleplaying group for two years in her home state of Florida.

Danny, Drew, Travis, and Phillip were the baseball players of the group. They knew each other very well. The fifth male we invited was Samuel Woodward, a wrestler of Japanese and Filipino descent. All ranged from cute (Travis and Samuel) to ridiculously hot (Phillip, Drew, and Danny).

Gretchen Thompson was the one girl we hadn’t been 100% sure about inviting. She was a blonde cheerleader of medium height and cute as a button, but Fanny said Gretchen had a reputation already of being down for quite a bit of shenanigans. Hannah was well-known because she sat with us in most of our lectures. And last was Sarah Maylin, a short, black beauty with piercing gray eyes and bright red hair extensions. She and I also shared the same schedule, though I’d never spoken to her as she kept to herself. Not because she was shy, but apparently, she was a child actor, and people could get weird when they found out about it.

Travis asked her immediately what films she had done, and she replied that she’d been in several Disney shows and made-for-TV movies before quitting the business at age sixteen.

The introductions lasted about fifteen minutes. Once we were through them, I laid out the format I wanted to try while everybody helped themselves to their earned brownie.

“So the core pre-med classes this semester are Anatomy, General Chemistry 1, English Composition 1, Concepts of Biology, and Psychology. And this semester isn’t even the toughest grouping of classes.”

“That’s why they call it the weeder year,” Travis said.

“Next semester is just as tough,” Hannah said. “Physiology, Biology of Genetics, Sociology, and Intro to Health Professions.”

“Sounds way easier than the classes we’re taking now,” Travis said.

“That’s because you haven’t heard how hard Intro to Health Professions is.”

“Those classes are brutal,” Sarah chimed in. “It’s not a weeder semester. It’s two whole years of hell.”

“Just fuck me now!” Danny groaned.

Fanny raised an eyebrow at me, which almost made me laugh.

“Which is why we are here,” I said before more people could interrupt. “We should have started this group three months ago, but there’s no point crying about that. We aim to get all of us onto the pre-med track at the end of our sophomore year. All ten of us. They only take twenty students. And the program director tries to be as fair as possible with an even male-to-female split. So we all have an equal chance.”

“Which is actually not fair,” Hannah said, “because more girls have declared as pre-med majors than guys.”

“Men are a minority in the medical field now,” Danny smirked. “So we need a little extra help.”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying there are only twenty-two men in the pre-med program in our year compared to twenty-eight women. Ten spots each. Do the math.”

“And all five of us want to get in,” Samuel said.

“So each time we meet,” I cut in again, “everybody should come prepared with things they want to review. Each of us should take notes in class to be prepared to contribute. This group is not here to help people who don’t want to pay attention in class get caught up. If most of us feel somebody is dragging us down, we’ll take a secret vote. And if you’re out, you’re out.”

Fanny raised her hand. “I think we should also go over goals.”

We spent the next few minutes discussing the average GPAs of people accepted into the track in the last few years and comparing those with our current GPAs. Everybody in the group had a decent chance if they maintained or slightly improved their scores for the next three semesters.

“And to add in a little extra motivation,” Fanny said, grinning at me, though also blushing very faintly, “the two guys in our group who have the best GPAs after our finals at the end of the semester get to have a threesome with me.”

Four of the five boys started clapping or smacking the table. Only Drew, who still hadn’t said a word yet besides introducing himself, didn’t cheer. He just smirked sheepishly.

“No way!” Travis shouted. “I am so winning this!”

“How come it’s just the guys?” Hanna blurted out. All heads in the room turned to Hannah. She wasn’t embarrassed at all. “What? I’m interested. I’m ... well, I’m bi-curious.”

I shrugged. “Okay. Gretchen? Sarah? Are either of you interested in being a part of the contest?”

Sarah’s face turned as red as her hair extensions. “Sure. Why not?”

Again, most of the room clapped and cheered.

On the other hand, Gretchen said, “I’m not interested in a threesome with girls. But I would be interested in anything with two or three guys. Only if I’m the top scorer.”

“I volunteer as tribute!” Travis said, raising his hand.

“Ditto!” Samuel said.

“How about this?” I said, suddenly with a wicked idea. “Nobody here knows anybody else’s GPA, right? But since apparently I’m the only person with a steady boyfriend—”

Fanny cleared her throat very pointedly and drew everybody’s attention to herself. She gave me a look that told everybody else in the room I was hiding something.

My face flushed. “Okay. A steady boyfriend and a steady girlfriend—”

“Wait,” Travis said while Phillip said, “What?”

“It’s complicated,” I said, waving their questions away. “We can discuss it some other time. Everybody sends proof of their GPA to me. I will alert the person who gets the highest score. They can choose their two partners from among the top five. If you don’t get an email, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“That means only half of us can get a reward,” Danny complained. “That’s not fair.”

“Dude,” Travis said. “It perfectly describes the whole pre-med track. It’s perfect!”

“Does everyone agree to this?” Fanny asked. She looked like she was about to explode with excitement.

“One other rule,” I said. “We should all agree to no fraternizing among the group for two reasons. One: It could ruin group chemistry if we start pairing off or sleeping together. Two: It spoils the reward.”

Everybody looked at each other momentarily, and then Drew spoke for the second time. “Hell yeah.”

Uproar ensued—the good kind. Fanny and I looked at each other. We had chosen our group well.

The first study meeting ended on a terrific note. Everybody was motivated to work hard. We set our first study sessions for Monday after classes. Other than a few ten-minute breaks, the session lasted about four hours.

When I rejoined Marcos and Velma at the front desk, Velma rolled her eyes at me and muttered, “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry,” I said, “I had to go to the bathroom to get all the cum out of my hair. Five guys blowing their loads on your face makes quite a mess.”

“You are so gross! God help you.”

Again, Marcos hid his smirk and tried not to laugh. That was probably why we got along so well.

Activity in the library became busier as we drew closer to the end of the semester. All of the medical school, dental, nursing, podiatry, some undergrad, and plenty of masters and Ph.D. students needed to do extra research or study for exams. That meant lots of books to check out or shelve. We closed at midnight instead of 10 p.m. the last few weeks before finals. I had been texting Marcy occasionally, but she still hadn’t answered her phone. After four years of dating, I knew it meant she was upset with me.

Finally, we closed the library at midnight, so I texted her one last time.

I’m coming over to your place after work. Seems like we need to talk.

It had snowed during my shift. Light flakes continued to flutter from the sky. My boots crunched on new snow on the cement. I liked fresh snow because I could see footprints and ensure nobody was hiding around my car. By the time I was out the door and halfway across the parking lot to my spot, Marcy still had not responded. Not a good sign.

Things had been off with Marcy for a few weeks. I needed to figure out what was going on. Was she growing interested in somebody else? But a voice in my head asked, “Why would you think that?” And I knew the answer.

Marcy was growing suspicious about me seeing Kitt more than I was supposed to, which was true. I hadn’t followed the schedule we’d agreed upon. Marcy had every right to be mad at me. I had screwed up, and now I had to own it and fix it.