The Nerdy Tech's Bodyguard

Jorja Banks was drunk. She was very drunk. Scratch that. She was sloshed … plastered … smashed. It was her family’s way of giving her a big sendoff – part graduation celebration, part farewell. Jorja being the first of eleven children, she knew there wasn’t much hope of getting any financial support from her parents past secondary school. No way would her folks keep supporting her, since they had ten other mouths other than themselves to feed. Besides, they’d barely been able to provide for her when she was a minor, much less provide for her now that she’d aged out. As such, Jorja knew she’d have to fend for herself if she wanted to survive. To do that, she would need a job. There were three legal options available to someone in her predicament. One: becoming a teacher. But after helping to raise her siblings who were all each a year apart from the other, Jorja hadn’t the patience to deal with other people’s kids on a daily basis. Two: become a nurse. Unfortunately, she wasn’t what one would call a tender, caring Florence Nightingale type of person. Or three: the option she’d chosen. Become a solider. That made the most sense. She was strong, tough, cunning and practically invincible. She’d had to be, to survive the ghetto she was raised in. In her little third world country, the Co-operative Republic of Guyana, it didn’t take much to become a solider. Once you had a sound secondary school education, were able to read and write and were capable of taking instruction, you were hired. Jorja figured checking two out of the three boxes wasn’t so bad. After all, she’d always sucked at following orders. She didn’t think that would change anytime soon. So here she was on the eve of shipping off for training drunk as a skunk. Usually, she doesn’t get drunk. No matter how much she drank, her body would metabolize the alcohol in seconds. This was due to the high level of enzymes her body produced. Whether it was vodka, gin, scotch or rum – a glass or a barrel, she never got drunk. Her parents were the same. They were functional alcoholics. Her mother even boasted of consuming copious amounts of alcohol during each and every one of her pregnancies. Jorja figured that was why she couldn’t get drunk: alcohol had been introduced to her from the womb and her body had gotten so accustomed to it, that it literally did nothing to give her that euphoric feeling when one imbibed. That was no fun. And she lived for fun. Her entire family was a playful group – always laughing, socializing and pranking each other. Being able to have fun without the buzz one received from alcohol consumption was not a skill set they wanted to learn. Thankfully, her family specialized in making the impossible possible. Case in point, the glass of tequila she was about to drink. It was a special blend made by her Uncle Tobias and the reason she was currently drunk. He had a knack for making his own moon shine that would give the Banks family bang for their buck. But just because she shouldn’t have had those last four tequilas, didn’t mean she didn’t know they were about to gang up on him. They were always picking on him. They were always messing with him in one way or another. From what Jorja could tell, he didn’t even hang around the village anymore. He was the youngest of six boys born to the village’s goldsmith. He had the misfortune of being a typical teenaged boy: tall and lanky. He was nineteen years old and six foot six. While his older brothers were all the rough and tumble type, he was considered a computer nerd. He was the only one who found reading a book ‘fun’ and looked forward to going to school. He graduated from secondary school as a Valedictorian with a fully funded scholarship to the University of Guyana. Because of this, his family didn’t really understand him and, as such, wasn’t interested in him, his whereabouts or what happened to him. So he mostly spent all of his free time in the library reading and using the library’s computer when he wasn’t actually attending classes. He was fascinated with software design and cyber security. He was considered a wimp because of the lack of dominance he exhibited, particularly when compared to his brothers and the other teenaged boys in the village. But he wasn’t weak. Jorja had a keen sense of reading people. While many underestimated him, Jorja saw his strong sense of character and the compassion he showed others. He may not have had physical strength like the others, but the fact he withstood their many pranks and bullying tactics, showed an inner strength that was unmatched – at least in Jorja’s book. While debating whether or not to have another shot of tequila, Jorja noticed them stalking him and immediately knew where they were heading—to Berbice High School. Because of his high grades, he’d been offered an assistant teaching position for the Information Technology class. This gave him access to the school, its library and its state of the art computer lab. Jorja knew they’d find him hiding in the library. He hid there a lot. He would hide there when he needed to. Unlike the brawnier males in the village, his personality and body type were such that he avoided confrontations at all cost. By the time the gang of males made it to the corridor leading to the school’s library, she’d already stood in front of the door. Jorja had used a short cut which allowed her to reach before them. Unfortunately, it hadn’t afforded her enough time to find him and get him home to safety. So she would have to improvise and stop them from entering the library. It was the least she could do, since she was leaving the next day and he would have to fend for himself. “Hey, Jorja,” Blake, also known as Big-Balls Blake, croaked. Her brother Jonas, at sixteen and already six feet tall, was still smaller than Blake. But he was tougher and Blake learned early on not to mess with Jonas Banks. He learned the hard way. Now he took it out on the smaller, weaker teens of the town. Yet, he seemed to have a special hard-on for this one teen. This one nerd, who even though was older than him, was weaker – thus making him easy prey. No one would mistake Blake for anything but a predator. But as the saying goes, ‘monkeys know which limb to jump on’. So too did Blake know who to pick on and who to leave alone. He would never cross Jorja. “I know why you’re here, Blake. You have no business at this school. Take your friends and leave. Don’t make me make you. I won’t ask you twice.” “s**t, Jorja. Why do you always have to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong? We won’t hurt him, just wanted to have some fun.” Blake looked past Jorja, hoping to get a glimpse of his target. The place was eerily quiet. “Is he in there? Come on out, little Richie. We just want to invite you to hang with us.” “You need to leave. NOW.” Blake straightened his spine. He was about a foot taller than Jorja and was attempting to use his size and height to intimidate her. Like Jorja, he had been imbibing and, apparently, he was drunk too. That was the only explanation that made sense of him thinking he could go up against Jorja and win. “Why aren’t you at your party, Jorja?” “Once everyone is drunk enough that the cousins start dancing and acting like country hick lovers, then it’s time for me to go. Besides, I have an early start tomorrow, so it just makes sense to leave the party. No need to make a bad impression on my first day of training. I do want them to think I’m serious about it.” He stepped closer to her. “You really joining the army?” “Already joined, boo. Tomorrow I get on the bus.” And the hell out of here. “You’ll be missed,” he said low, for her only. “Yeah, thanks.” She put her arm around his shoulders and steered him back toward the door. “Look, you take these guys out of here. I’m waiting for somebody.” “Who?” “A friend… someone who’s going to hook me up with the best weed in three counties. But he’s not coming in if he sees an audience. So why don’t you head back to the party and I’ll meet you there.” She forced a smile. “And then we’ll have a party of our own.” “Okay. See you in about an hour?” “Sure,” she lied, feeling almost guilty if she hadn’t known he’d come there to beat up a harmless, innocent guy. Blake kissed her cheek and motioned to the other guys to follow him out. By the way they moved, it was clear they were already pretty drunk. A few more drinks and they’d all pass out, and by the time they woke up in the morning, she’d be on a bus and gone from Nurseville forever.