Page 1 of Shiver
ONE
RAKESH
Not for thefirst time today, my focus wavers. While I should be grading papers, I’m staring absently outside. The fall weather looks the same as any other time of year. At least, in the last six years, that’s what it feels like to me.
Rubbing my eyes, I look back down at the stack of papers. Grading undergraduate physics I students was the least exciting thing. I could likely grade every third one with a B, throw in a random A, fail 20%, and give the rest an average C and I’d be accurate in my assessment. This class was like every other year. Every other course.
Being a teacher’s assistant while I finish my last year of graduate studies is, well, dull as fuck. Sure, it’s this or research but I thought that I’d give myself a boost and go with something mindless so I can spend the rest of my time focusing my attention on my studies.
Except that I’m not focusing on shit.
“Rake.”
Glancing up, I watch through shrewd eyes as Felicia Fowler-Fausett walks into the office we share. While her graduate studies are different from mine, we both took up TA positions as opposed to research. She likely came to the same conclusion I had.
“Felicia,” I return.
She drops her messenger bag next to her desk and sits in the chair. Not for the first time I try to determine if she’s considered objectively attractive. Her hair is long, brown, straight, and she does nothing with it. She wears glasses but they aren’t big and gaudy like I see many science majors wearing.
She’s not overly thin or thick, about average height. Her eyes look a little lifeless and dull to me.
Turning back to my papers, I determine that I definitely can’t determine whether a woman is attractive since they’re simply not to me. I don’t even have the ability to appreciate anything about their bodies. I simply lack the facility to see them as attractive.
Maybe I’m broken.
Raising a brow, I find that I’m not actually looking at the papers, but staring outside. Again.
Frustrated, I close my eyes. When I open them, I see my uncle heading toward the arena. At first, I thought it might be weird attending school on the same campus where my uncle works but as it turns out, it’s rather nice. We occasionally have lunch together. I get free tickets to his games, and in turn, he has a precious three of my cards left for when one of his favorite athletes is failing beyond help and needs a miracle.
He disappears behind a big tree and out of sight as my attention wanders again. Sighing in frustration, I gather the papers that I need to grade and stuff them into my bag.
Felicia’s watching me as I shut my laptop with a snap.“You okay?” she asks.
I was pretty sure the girl had been flirting with me until she realized that I didn’t swing that way. The first time she offered to help me relieve my frustration and stress, I must have given her a horrified look. Thankfully, she burst out laughing. “Ah, never mind,” she’d told me.
I haven’t had the misfortune to deal with that again. However, she still asks me if there’s anything she can do to help my stress. I’m inclined to believe she does so more because she feels compelled to. Whether because we are officemates or it has something to do with her psychology degree, I’m not sure.
“Yes,” I answer as I slip my laptop into my bag. I’m not looking at her as I continue to pack up but knowing she’s watching me makes me meet her eyes as I get to my feet. “I’m bored. Can’t concentrate.”
Her lips tick up and once more, I wonder if she’s attractive. Is that supposed to be a flirty smile? Suggestive? Or maybe just sympathetic?
What if I was seeing it on a man?
It would be far easier to determine what’s behind it if it was on a man.
“See you later, then,” she says.
I give her a nod, sling my messenger bag over my shoulder, and breeze out of the office. As I head down the stairs from the third floor, I realize that I’d told her the truth, and that’s likely why I wasn’t able to concentrate.
I’m bored.
Not just with grading papers, but in general. I’m so damn bored!
When I step outside, a man crosses my path. He meets my eyes and gives me a smile. The way he blinks, all slow and flirty, lets me know that he’s found me appealing. Even as he walks by. That little look tells me there’s an invitation there should I happen upon him again.
My dick twitches and I raise a brow. The little twink is not at all my type; not what I’m usually interested in. But as I attempt to determine the last time I hooked up, I realize that even a twink was looking appealing right now. This boredom, this lack of getting my dick wet, is why I’ve been trying to determine if Felicia is attractive. When I’m horny, I try to dissect what makes women attractive.
Alright then. Time to find a fuck.
