I grew up in a pretty cold family. My parents, both successful business owners, were either working or fighting. I didn’t really have a home—I had babysitters, one after another, who came and went like passing shadows.

The only thing that ever made my parents proud was my grades. I was the best student, their golden child on paper. Teachers adored me. Everyone else… not so much. Because I was smart and charming to adults, people called me a “buttlicker.” I never really was one. I just studied and smiled politely, tried to keep my head down.

Girls didn’t like me. I didn’t get crushes, or attention—only bullying. I was tall, skinny, slumpy, shy… the perfect target.

In eighth grade, I started going to the gym. I learned how to bulk, how to carry myself differently. By the time high school rolled around, I wasn’t the same skinny kid anymore—I was jacked.

High school was a classic Ivy League setup, and as soon as I got there, I knew exactly what my next four years were going to revolve around: her.

She was tall, beautiful, effortless. Everyone adored her. Every teacher, every student. She was charming, kind, approachable. And suddenly, my existence became complicated.

After a few months, the seating chart changed. I ended up sitting right behind her and her friend. Then, in the middle of History class, she whispered some dirty joke to her friend—looking straight at me. And damn. I had never, ever, gotten an erection that fast in my life.

Later, at lunch, she roamed her eyes all over me. I felt like a thirteen-year-old sneaking glances at models on late-night TV. Ever since that day, I couldn’t get her out of my head. Every chance I got, my eyes went back to her, but I didn’t plan on doing anything—she was my academic rival, and she annoyed the hell out of me even though she had no idea.

One day, walking back from the gym, I saw her on a playground, playing like a silly child with five kids. It was… cute. I was a man. She was the crush. And I kind of wanted that. With her.

Sitting behind her, I discovered she told dirty jokes all the time. And to be fair… they were hilarious. Because, well… I was a boy, after all. But I was in fact a boy after all. A teenage boy who found those scenarios ..really nice too...

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