His little stepbrother ddlb 18+

Chapter 12 Alex

“Alex, can I talk to you for a minute?” Professor Jameson, my

teacher in Rural Economics 101, asked after the bell rang.

I approached his desk just as the other students were leaving

the room.

“Listen, Alex, I’ve been teaching for two decades now,” he told me.

“Throughout the years, I’d love to believe that I’ve become a good judge of a

student’s potential. You’re someone who’s brimming with potential. I’ve

known that since day one. You’re a good student, Alex. You’ve shown

nothing that ever made me think otherwise.”

“Uhm... thank you, Sir,” was all that I could say. How else was I

supposed to react to a compliment like that?

“Until today,” he suddenly added with a more serious tone. He gave me a

piece of paper. I immediately recognized it as yesterday’s exam. Everything

there was my handwriting, except for an encircled mark on the upper right

corner. It was written with red ink. It only had one letter. An F. “Can you tell

me what happened here, Alex?” Professor Jameson demanded to know.

I couldn’t reply.

I knew exactly what happened.

I wasn’t able to prepare for that exam. My mind was elsewhere for the

past week. I’ve been plagued by a myriad of heart-wrenching thoughts that I

didn’t even bother to study for anything.

“I know you’ve been struggling,” he continued to say. “And I understand

why. I really do. Kid from a small town, thrust into the big city... lots of

adjustments there, right? Things have been difficult for you. I get that. But

you’ve been coping up really well. You’ve been doing really good. That’s

why this,” he pointed at the paper once more, “this is very surprising to me.”

“I... I’m sorry, Sir,” was all I could reply with.

“I wish apologies would be enough, Alex,” Professor Jameson said with a

tinge of sadness. “But you knew how important this exam was, correct? I

wasn’t remiss in reminding you - all of you - that this would account for a

third of your grade. And it wasn’t even hard. I didn’t design this exam to be

difficult at all. Still, I had no choice but to give you an F. Your answers were

way off. You left most of the items blank. Those made me worry, you know.

Something must be bothering you. I mean... Alex... you’re the only one in

class who failed this exam.”

“I... I’ll do better, Sir,” I made him a promise, though I knew right there

and then that it was an empty one. It’s not that I didn’t want to do good in his

class, it’s just that I didn’t know if I could ever find the motivation to make

things right.

“I wish it was that easy,” he commented. “But at this point, it’ll take

nothing less than a minor miracle to salvage your standing. You’ll have to

score really, really high on the next two major exams to save your grade.”

“I’ll do that, Sir,” I declared with, again, a guarantee that I wasn’t certain

I could keep.

Professor Jameson sighed. “I’ll be honest with you, Alex. The safest

course of action, at this point, is to just drop this subject. If you fail this one,

you’ll just be dragging your GWPA down and that wouldn’t be good for the

cutoff for Agricultural Science freshmen. I’m not the enemy here, son. My

subject’s not the enemy. Math is. And simple math says that if my subject’s

just gonna pull your GWPA down, then it’ll be more prudent to just get rid of

it so that it won’t be included in the count.”

“But then I’d be underloaded, Sir,” I raised my concern.

“That’s better than being expelled,” he countered.

“I... I won’t be able to finish my course in four years.”

“Which is better than not being able to finish it at all. Besides, my

subject’s available for summer classes.”

“I... uhm... I don’t think I can... uhm... afford summer classes, Sir...”

“I see,” he muttered while in deep thought. “Can’t you find work? A part

time job? Something that would help you with the additional expenses?”

“I... I... “ I didn’t know if I should tell him the truth - that I couldn’t even

get accepted to the simplest job even if my life depended on it. Eventually, I

just decided to lie. “I can try, Sir.”

“Good. The choice is pretty straightforward, Alex. Either you continue

with my class and hope for a miracle, or drop my class and save your GWPA.

I offered you my thoughts on the matter, but the decision’s all up to you. Just

a reminder, though... the deadline for dropping is on Monday. This Monday,

after the weekend.”

“Yes Sir,” I responded before leaving the room.

On my way home, I thought about those two choices that Professor

Jameson gave me. I didn’t really dwell on any of them. There was a third

choice, one which he didn’t mention. It was a choice that made the most

sense.

It was the only choice that made sense.

Everything was falling apart.

I’ve spent the entire week trying to act as normally as I could, to think as

normally as I could, to behave as normally as I could. But nothing about the

days that followed that night with Chad was ever normal.

I ruined everything.

I ruined everything and I didn’t even know why I allowed myself to do

that.

Everything was going great. He became someone who I never thought he

could ever be... a daddy. My daddy. He took good care of me, provided for

my needs, gave me comfort and joy, and assured me that everything would be

okay. Never in my life have I ever felt that I needed someone like that...

someone like him. And when he became that someone for me, I didn’t ever

want to go back to how things were before.

Then I ruined it.

All because of this stupid, freaking hand that moved by itself!

Why did I have to touch his p***s?

Of course that freaked him out!

He’s not gay.

And neither was I.

Neither was I.

That thought made me wonder... was I gay? Looking back, I never was

interested with girls. But that alone wouldn’t make me homosexual. I mean, I

wasn’t interested with guys, either. I just wasn’t interested with relationships

and romance and love.

But...

Was I interested with Chad?

Did I ever think of him as someone more than a roommate? More than a

friend?

Did I actually... like him?

And was that the reason why my fingers gravitated towards his

midsection?

Oh my God.

I really did screw everything up.

School. My living arrangements. My life in the city. My future. My

family.

Chad’s my stepbrother, for Christ’s sake!

And I touched his c**k!

And I drove him away.

Professor Jameson just gave me two choices, but there was a third one.

I should just quit.

I should just quit and go back to Greenville.

City life’s not for me. San Francisco is too big and too complicated. I’m a

small town kid, always have and always will be. It’s more peaceful in

Greenville. If I’d stay there, people would expect less from me... and I

wouldn’t be pressured to be someone I wasn’t just to please others who

wanted me to be someone who they thought I could be. In Greenville, I’d be

away from the convoluted mess that was this place.

I’d be away from Chad.

As soon as I arrived at the apartment, I began to pack up. I threw

everything that I owned inside my luggage - my clothes, my grooming items,

my books...

For some reason I couldn’t figure out, however, I left my baby stuff on

the bed. I initially thought that my subconsciousness wanted to put them

away after everything has been stored in my suitcase. But then, I failed to

move when it was their turn to be stowed. I just looked at them for the

longest time as they remained on the bed, lined up like toy soldiers ready for

war... or for a unified surrender.

My onesie. My pacifier. My box of diapers. My feeding bottle. And the

small can of powdered milk that I brought with me.

I gazed upon them until I started to weep, cursing myself for being such a

freaking crybaby, hating myself for shedding some tears without any

apparent reason.

I cried and cried and cried...

Until the door opened.

Chad was home, earlier than I expected.

I turned around. Our eyes met. He looked surprised, but not as shocked as

I was. He saw me crying. He saw the baby things on the bed.

Oh no... please God no...

“Chad...” I called his name. “I-It’s... It’s not what you think...”