Nathaniel (college senior)

Now a college senior, Nate had achieved an enviable academic record. He was one of the brightest students at prestigious Harbor Heights University. He had published papers and won awards. Grad schools were beating down his door. But Nate had never had much of a dating life. Nerdy, but boyishly cute, with dense messy hair and a lanky build, it wasn’t that there was no interest in him. Throughout college, women and gay men alike had made advances. Nate was not without vanity, and he enjoyed the attention of both sexes. But despite that, his sex life amounted to all of three rushed encounters in dark rooms underneath heavy blankets. Instead, most of his time was spent studying hard and racking up accomplishments.

There was a reason he was so self-conscious about sex. Everyone thought he was just a shy nerd. But Nate had a secret. As his older cousin Hank had joked when the two of them showered together at the gym a few years ago (the last time Nate had allowed himself to be naked in front of anyone), Nate had the biggest brains around -- and the smallest dick.

Now, even though he’d made it to the top – first in his class at HHU, soon to attend a big-name graduate program –Nate felt driven as much as ever to remind everyone just how much bigger his brains were. His striving, competitive nature rubbed his fellow students, and even some faculty, the wrong way. He was widely considered arrogant and a tad egotistical.

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Nate’s morning lecture in Dixon Hall had wrapped up, and he was headed back out to the quad. He noticed some of the troublemakers from the back row of class were gathered near the building’s entrance, snickering about something. Shit, he thought. They were almost entirely blocking the way out. He didn’t want to go anywhere near them, but his only other option was to walk all the way to the opposite end of the building to use the south exit. Besides, he had things to do today. He hoped to get a head start on a history paper. And he remembered that Candace, a particularly attractive and friendly fellow senior – and one of the few classmates not put off by his talent and smarts – was usually in the dining hall about this time. He supposed he could also just stay in Dixon Hall and drop by Professor Walford’s office hours. He’d been meaning to visit her to discuss a recent paper in which she’d only given him a 99/100 – his first less-than-perfect score of the year.