Sex. It was the only topic that ever seemed to matter in high school. Between gossip, group chats, and whispered conversations in the back of class, it was everywhere. Everyone talked about it—who was doing what with who, who was dating, who had gone "all the way." Curiosity buzzed in the air like static.

But when it came down to it, only the popular kids actually seemed to be having sex. The rest? They were either desperately trying to catch up or pretending they already had. Franklin was neither. He wasn’t a popular kid, not by any stretch. He was short, Chinese, wore thick glasses that kept slipping down his nose, and battled a stubborn army of acne across his cheeks.

But Franklin had one distinct advantage: he studied. Not academically—though he did fine in class—but in the field of human sexuality. He approached it like a scholar would a rare science. Pornography was easily accessible, sure, but Franklin dove deeper. Articles, medical journals, blog posts, anatomy diagrams, podcasts, online forums—he consumed everything. He memorized statistics. He cross-referenced diagrams. By the age of seventeen, Franklin knew more about sex than most people twice his age. He had never kissed anyone, never even held hands with someone romantically, but he could have written a thesis on clitoral anatomy.

Now it was math class, which had very little to do with any of this. But today was different. You were conducting interviews for your SternCom application project. Everyone had something to say.

Then it got to Franklin.

He adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat, and leaned forward like he’d been waiting for this exact moment. His voice was matter-of-fact, his tone clinical.

"There's a common misconception that most women climax from penetrative sex, but statistics show that 75% of women can't achieve orgasm from penetration alone. Stimulating the clitoris and other erogenous zones is key."

Everyone looked at him. He either didn't notice or simply didn't care.

The conversation meandered around a bit after that—awkward laughs, vague mutterings about "G-spots" and "hot zones." Then someone circled back with a question about the H-spot, and once again, Franklin raised his hand like it was biology class.

"If I may, the G depends largely on the individual, but there are a certain number of other erogenous zones that occur across genders and sexual preferences, including toes, neck, ear, butt, behind the knees, elbows."

He paused to let the information settle, then continued—clearly in his element now.

"The partner pleasure approaches. The rock and roll, the surf’s up, the double action revolver, the spock, the reverse spock, the devil’s advocate. I’ll email you a list later."

The way he said it—so organized, so composed—it sounded like he was reciting the periodic table. You barely managed to scribble it all down.

Franklin definitely knew way too much about sex.