Check out CCL

Easy choice. You want to party, not get arrested. It’s obvious that CCL is the place to be. Horny college chicks? Let’s go.

You’re back in town, Stef is still here and things are good. You can’t quite feel as though no time has passed, but the wall that was between you and Stef on your return seems to be gone. You don’t have a girlfriend anymore, but you do have a best friend. That’s a relief.

But your relief doesn’t last long. You’re called to the guidance office before you can even sit down in your first class.

The guidance counselor is a tired-looking man who gives you a flat look before slapping your grades from your last school onto the desk. “Were you going to mention this?” he asks irritably.

“Um,” you say, trying to play dumb. Which should be easy, because your grades are terrible.

“Do you want to graduate?” he asks you plainly.

“Yes,” you reply.

“Then you have credits to make up. You’ll do an hour a day remedial.” He scribbles some things on a piece of paper and slides it over to you.

“Every day?” you ask, appalled.

“Don’t test me,” he warns.

Jeez. This guy is intense.

“OK,” you say, heart sinking as you leave his office. Well, well, well. If it isn’t the consequences of your actions. This is a kick right in the dick. Now you won’t be leaving the school at the same time as everyone else. No going home with Stef. It’s five hours of your week, gone.

But… you do need to graduate. Yes, you like girls more than you like studying, but you aren’t planning to drop out.

You trudge back to your classroom and sit beside the skinny, goth girl who occupies the desk next to yours. She’s kind of cute, if that’s your type, but that is not your type. You like a girl with some curves who knows how to have a good time. This girl has zero of that. But… she’s your only neighbor and you’re at the back of the class. You’re stuck with her.

“I’m Carla,” you murmur.

“Hi,” she mutters back.

“You got a fucking name?” you ask quietly when she doesn’t volunteer hers.

“Shut up,” she mutters, and you get it. This teacher will hassle you for talking. So you scribble a note and pass it over. She passes it back. Her name is Ellen. You scribble a new question, this time about CCL. You pass that to her.

She frowns at it, then leans toward you.

“You know they’re all gay over there, right?” she asks.

“That’s what I heard,” you reply. “They throw parties all the time, right? How do I get in?”

“You don’t. They don’t want to get in trouble for underage drinking. They don’t let high schoolers in,” Ellen tells you. That makes no sense. They have college freshmen and stuff, right? They’re underage too. But… you get it. This is Gurlberg. What happens with CCL can stay with CCL, but this town wouldn’t like it if they thought that those girls were corrupting innocent high school students or something. Great. So much for that plan. Can you pass yourself as a college student? Probably not.

But you look at Ellen appraisingly. She seems to know a bit about CCL, and in her ripped black jeans and cutoff top, she obviously is not trying to get the attention of any boys. You lean over to risk saying one last thing.

“I bet there’s a way,” you whisper. She gives you a look.

But that’s the only class you have with her. Stef laughs her ass off when she finds out about your remedial lessons.

“I’ll pour one out for you,” she says, reaching over to mess up your hair.

You get a little consolation treat in P.E. class. That redhead? She’s here, and you quickly notice why Stef pays so much attention to her. She stands out. Not just the way she jiggles so alluringly as you play volleyball in the gym, or the sexy curve of her back, or the way that her gym shorts hug her luscious, round ass when she crawls under the bleachers to retrieve the ball… but it’s the way she’s so smiley and friendly with everyone.

“I’m Mary,” she says after class, in the locker room. She’s getting ready to get into the shower, stripped down to nothing but her snug, cotton panties. You’re trying so hard not to look as you stall to make sure that you shower after everyone else is done.

“Carla,” you say, doing your best to smile at her like a normal, friendly girl. She stands up and her thumbs go into the waist of her panties. You look away, last about one second, then turn and watch her walk naked into the shower. Your face is red and your heart pounds. She lives next door to you.

You’re still riding that high a little bit as school ends and you don’t go home with Stef, instead going to the library, where you wait at the desk with your slip of paper, tapping your fingers impatiently.

You hear the squeak of a cart and turn to see a woman emerge from an aisle. She wears neat khakis and a white blouse. The khakis can’t hide her incredible hips and the blouse can’t hide how absurdly stacked she is. She’s a brunette in glasses and her hair is up. She’s maybe a little younger than your mother, and shockingly pretty.

The smile that she gives you is warm and friendly.

“You must be my new slacker,” she says, leaving the cart by the desk and joining you. She’s taller than you, and you can smell her perfume.

“Guess so,” you reply. “Miss…?”

“I’m a librarian, not a teacher. You can just call me Kris,” she says.

The fact that she’s distractingly attractive doesn’t bode well for your studies, but at least she seems cool. You feel like you have a choice to make. You can come here to the library and just… try. You can pretend that you want to be here. Or you can tell her the truth, and maybe she’ll help you out somehow.

How will you go about your remedial lessons?

Fake it?

Or try to game it?