Part 1: Application
I was surprised when I read that the study on my college campus was taking place at Nanigan Hall. I already knew Nanigan Hall as the site of many of the bawdiest parties and sexually-charged activities on campus. I knew several of the girls from Nanigan Hall, the "She-Nanigans" as they called themselves, and they were definitely on the wild and uninhibited side.
But it was a legitimate study being conducted by a team of psychology students working closely with a legitimate producer of quality adult toys. I don't normally respond to every poster I find on the tattered bulletin boards scattered around campus, but this one piqued my interest. I decided that it wouldn't hurt to at least find out more about what it would entail. The fact that it offered to pay study participants $100 each didn't hurt. I was, after all, a college student and that money could cover a lot of pizza, beer and other needs.
I brought out my phone and quickly scanned the QR code displayed on the poster to get to the participant qualification questionnaire. It was a form like most forms I'd filled out throughout school. I saw a bunch of boring standard demographic questions--name, birthdate, height, weight, etc.--before succumbing to the chill in the January air and deciding to return to the warmth of my dorm room to start answer anything. I tucked my phone back into the pocket of my jeans and started striding back across campus to my dorm.
I lived in an all-male dorm on the far side of campus with most of the other male athletes. I guess the school figured a bunch of young guys in good physical condition wouldn't mind hiking back and forth across campus to get from our rooms to classes, meals and practice. In some ways, they were right. The exercise of walking or jogging to or from our dorm felt good, our breath steaming as we made the trek in the cold months or enjoying the sun on exposed skin during the warm months. And since we had to pass by a couple of the women's dorms along the way, including the infamous Nanigan Hall, we made sure to have some skin exposed whenever the weather allowed. Unfortunately, today was too cold to draw female eyes that way so I prepared to move quickly to get back to the dorm without any expectation of a payoff along the way.
As I was passing by Nanigan Hall, a familiar voice called out, "Hey, Chet. What's up?"
It was Tricia, the dark-haired object of my affections for the last two years here on campus. She and I hung out regularly, laughing and encouraging one another through school and sports. She was one of the rising stars of the school's field hockey team and even though I didn't really love the sport, I attended every game just to see Tricia's fierce competitor side come out on the field. Watching her sleek, powerful body move throughout the game also helped to keep my attention focused.
Unfortunately, even though I'd made plain my interest in a more substantive relationship, I seemed to be located squarely in her friend zone. It's too bad, too. She was a knockout, at least to my eye. When she stepped up to give me a friendly hug, she stood about six inches shorter than my 5'11" frame. Her tight, athletic body fit so well against mine and her brown hair always smelled so good. But it was not to be, and I was getting better at adjusting to that unwelcome reality even if I also had to occasionally adjust my junk after close hugs like that one. Today was one of those days. I hoped she didn't notice; I would be mortified.
"Nothing much, beautiful," I answered. "Feels like a better day with you here, though."
"Nice, Stud," she answered. "You always know the right thing to say. Where are you headed? I thought you would still be at lacrosse practice."
"I was, but Coach let us out early. I'm on my way back to my room to warm up and just found this poster about an upcoming study. I'm going to go fill in the questionnaire. Wanna come with me and help?"
"Sure. I could use a little warming up too," Tricia teased, waggling her eyebrows.
Laughing, Tricia grabbed my arm and we continued on to my dorm building, just about 50 yards away. As usual, I held the door for her, and she pretended to be a princess waving as she entered. We took the stairs up to the third floor and stepped into the hotbox that was my room.
As always, it felt like my room was about 100 degrees. The upper floors in these old buildings were always warmer as the heat from the lower floors radiated upwards. My roommate and I had to keep the window cracked all winter just to keep it bearable, but at least the floor was never cold.
Speaking of roommates, mine was noticeably absent. He played on the basketball team and was usually sleeping any time he didn't have class or practice. Today, he was clearly not under the pile of old clothes and books strewn across his bed. On my desk, he had left a note telling me the team had a game a few states away tomorrow, so they had left with the bus today. He would be back in two days. Great, I'd get to see and smell his mess until then. Another good reason to keep the window cracked open.
I quickly moved some books off my desk chair and offered it to Tricia, then grabbed a couple Cokes from the mini fridge and handed one to her. I put mine down for a moment and pulled off my hoodie, coat, slides and sweatpants, opting to be more comfortable in my practice shorts, jersey and bare feet. Tricia hung her jacket on the back of my chair, kicked off her slippers and seemed comfortable enough already, looking at me expectantly.
Did I see a trace of hunger in that look? Was she watching to see what else I might take off? Did she want me to hold her again? My heart started beating just a little faster as I saw the signs that finally she might want to become more than just friends. She opened her lips while looking at me.
"So, your questionnaire?" she asked. Damn. Friend zone.
I grabbed my Coke, sat on the side of my bed and pulled out my phone. It was awkward getting back to the form with my phone in one hand and the Coke in the other so once I found that form, I handed the phone to Tricia. She was able to put her Coke down on my desk to have her hands free for typing and she was much faster at it than me anyway.
"OK," she said. "Let's start at the top. What's your full name, Chet?"
"Chester Andrews," I responded simply.
"CHESTER??" she laughed. "Your name is actually Chester? No wonder you go by Chet!"
"It was my grandfather's name, OK?" I felt a bit hurt by the ridicule, but the look in Tricia's eyes was instantly remorseful. I could tell she hadn't meant to hurt my feelings.
"I'm sorry, Chet. I didn't mean anything by it." She looked sincere. "By the way, do you have any Cheetos?" We both snorted with laughter at that. I couldn't stay mad at this girl if I tried.
"Next question: what's your birthdate?"
"June 16th," I responded.
"What year?" she asked.
"We're both nineteen so we were born the same year. You do the math, smart ass," I teased back.
"Right. Got it." She filled in that question.
I smugly took a swig of my Coke just as she asked the next question. "What's your cell phone number?" Looking up, she realized I was guzzling my drink and said, "Never mind. I've got you in my phone. 'Stud: 555-12..."
"Wait! You've got me in your phone as 'Stud?' I thought you just called me that as a joke."
"Maybe I do. Maybe it's just wishful thinking." She batted her eyes at me mockingly.
