Chapter 11

Nolan Pierce

Friday evening had arrived, and I was looking forward to the weekend, although before I could let loose, I had to help Lukas Weiss move. Jamie had moved Jas in with his old roommate Jordan after Jas ratted out Theo, which necessitated moving Lukas in with Theo. I’d switched my foreign language from Spanish to German after bombing the Spanish placement exam, and since I’d apparently failed to learn any Spanish after three years of it in middle school, I decided I needed all the help I could get. Lukas was from Berlin, and offered to tutor me if I helped him lug all his stuff down the hall. Oddly, Jas seemed to think that I either didn’t realize it was him or could be won back into his good graces with the offer of tutoring in geology.

“I’m really great at geology. I went to science camp when I was a kid and...”

“Thanks, but I have the study group Ellery assigned me. Where I really need help is German.”

“Man lernt eine neue Sprache besser durch Sprechen als durch das Studium eines Lehrbuchs,” Lukas said, and I looked at him hopelessly.

“See, I have no idea what the fuck you just said.” Jas winced a little when I said ‘fuck.’ I had quickly realized that he was offended by cursing but just self-aware enough not to scold me for it, so I’d been cursing around him every chance I got. Jamie had given us very strict instructions not to bully Jas, much to Theo’s annoyance, but Jas would never be able to prove that I was cursing more than I did ordinarily.

“You learn a new language better by speaking it than studying from a textbook – and it will give me a chance not to have to speak English.”

Be that as it may, we decided to start studying the old fashioned way, with flashcards. After about an hour of ‘Wie heißt du?,’ ‘Es geht mir gut,’ and ‘Ich verstehe nicht’ (that was one I saw myself having plenty of opportunities to use in class), Ashton knocked on the door to tell us that everyone was going to the dining hall for dinner.

I grabbed a plate of chicken parm and sat down across from Owen. He’d changed into flip-flops after class, and slid them off under the table, rubbing his bare feet over the tops of my New Balances. I kind of wished I’d worn flip-flops, too. I bolted down my chicken parm, and then the two of us walked hand in hand back to the dorm. We’d agreed that I’d try giving him a blow job.

Owen sat down on his bed, with his legs dangling off the side. I knelt in front of him and began kissing the tops of his feet, sucking his toes, and licking his soles while he took off his shirt and belt. Then he unbuttoned his shorts, and I stood up while he slid them off.