Page 2

Chapter one

Choose Your Nightmare

Josh

“It was a small explosion. A very small fire. Isn’t that right, JR?”

You’d think my best friend would back me up. He’s just sitting there, staring at the Dean of Students as if he’s facing a firing squad. It’s not like this is our first trip to the dean’s office. We’re on a first-name basis with his assistant.

“It was for science,” I continue. Crap. I knew I shouldn’t have added that pinch of potassium chlorate. What was I thinking? “Let me tell you our hypothesis. It’s quite—“

“I don’t have time for explanations,” Dean Owens cuts me off. “I didn’t call the two of you here today to talk about explosions. We have something more important to discuss.”

“Um, sir? Are we in trouble?” JR asks.

Backup, finally . My roommate may be the biggest guy at Spartacus University. He may be the star of the Golden Gladiators football team and the best friend I’ve ever had. But, honestly… JR can be kind of a wimp.

The dean folds his arms across his chest as he leans back in his leather chair. Pinched lips and a clenched jaw replace his usual easy-going smile. “Trouble? Well, that depends. Graduation is in six weeks and I still don’t have a student commencement speaker.” He stares at us without saying another word. The silence feels thick enough to slice.

Oh no, not this again. So what if I’m the top-ranked student in our graduating class? No one wants to hear a speech from me. I’m just a science nerd! JR, on the other hand, is a national football hero—the MVP of the championship game. He’s popular, and strong, and...

“Josh should do it,” the football hero blurts out.

I throw him a dirty look, and he ducks it with a grimace.

“ Me? You don’t want me, sir. You should choose JR as the student speaker.“ Ugh. Just the thought of speaking in front of all of those people makes me feel weak in the knees. Yeah, yeah—I know. Who’s the wimp now?

“One of you is going to deliver a speech at graduation. The only question is who.” Dean Owens peers over the top of his glasses, his gaze moving slowly between me and JR. A clock ticks somewhere in the background.

Let me take a moment to explain something. I’m not afraid of public speaking. I’m really not, OK? I just don’t want to look stupid—or worse, weird . A nerdy kid with an accent who’s better at math and physics than at talking to people. That’s not the formula for a good graduation speaker. It’s a recipe for disaster. Trust me, I’ve caused enough explosions to know the difference.

“But, Josh, you’ve gotta give the speech,” JR begs, his eyes pleading. “You’re the smartest student at Spartacus!”

The dean turns the full weight of his attention on me. “He’s got a point, Mr. Malik. You’ve set the university’s record for most credits earned in the shortest amount of time. All this while maintaining a perfect grade point average, and at an incredibly young age. And English isn’t even your native language!”

“I’m not that young. I’ll turn twenty this summer,” I say, sinking into my chair. I might be a little touchy about my age. Wouldn’t you be if you were the youngest member of your family? Always being told to wait until you’re older… Always being treated like a child?

The administrator shakes his head, a note of wonder creeping into his voice. “Still a teenager and already graduating with a double major in Aerospace Engineering and Astrophysics. Your parents must be so proud of you. Being chosen as a commencement speaker is an honor, Josh—for your entire family.”

Ouch. Another sore point.

But, OK, he’s not wrong. Academic success is important to my family. Just ask my father, Dr. Daksh Malik. Or my mother, Dr. Varenya Malik. Not to mention my brother, Dr. Siddharth Malik and my sister, Dr. Pradnya Malik. The pressure to measure up to my family can be kind of intense sometimes.

“But what if I forget what I’m supposed to say? What if I trip on my robe? What if my speech is so boring that I’m booed off the stage?” Those are just the most obvious catastrophes. I’m sure it’ll be something much worse.

“Dude, you’ll be fine.” JR gives me a soft punch on the shoulder. “Besides, you can put it on your resume. Think about your future… Think about NASA .”

My roommate knows me too well. Since I was little, I’ve dreamed about working for the space agency—that, and traveling the world. I’ll do whatever it takes to reach those goals, and JR knows it. The traitor.

Well, two can play at that game.

“Who wants to waste their time listening to a speech from me? I’m not famous like JR.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could stuff them back in.

Wimp? No, I’m the worst best friend ever .

Dean Owens turns his focus onto the football player, a familiar glint in his eyes. “That’s true, Mr. Bennett. Just imagine… ESPN’s #1 Draft Pick giving the commencement address. Think about the publicity it would bring to Spartacus! We might even make national news again.” Cameras, reporters, the buzz of attention… The dean lives for that kind of stuff.

The color drains from JR’s face. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly. “But I dropped out of the draft, remember?”

As if anyone in Hannah Harbor could forget. JR Bennett—everyone’s local hero—dropping out of the NFL draft to pursue a Masters of Genetics degree. ‘And did you hear that he’s dating Dr. Thomas Fletcher, the head of the Human Genetics program?’ Rumors had flown across the small midwest campus faster than a football at final down.

The dean waves away the reminder. “We can spin that to our advantage. ‘Football champion tackles higher education’ —I can see the headlines now. Reporters will fight to cover the story. You’ll be in the spotlight again!”

Sweat breaks out on my buddy’s forehead. This isn’t going to end well.

It’s time to confess... I kind of, maybe, threw my best friend under the bus. The thing is, I may not have a fear of public speaking (I really don’t, OK?) but JR…

He’s phobic.

You know how some people are afraid of heights, or snakes, or spiders? Add each of those fears together, then multiply the sum by pi squared. That’s the way JR feels about public speaking.

It doesn’t even make sense. He’s tall, good-looking, popular—a brilliant student and a phenomenal athlete. Everything that most guys want to be. You’d think he’d enjoy being the center of attention. You’d need to think again.

“Um, I’m not feeling so good.” JR wipes the back of his hand across his mouth.

I hope he doesn’t faint. Or worse, puke.

“Consider the impact this could have on our LGBTQ community,” Dean Owens pushes. “An openly gay athlete giving the commencement address—we’ll be flooded with admission applications! Don’t you want to be an advocate for equality, JR? To stand up for the queer students at Spartacus University, to be a role model for gay athletes everywhere?”

My friend’s eyes grow larger with each question, his breathing more shallow. “I-I’m not so sure I can get up on stage. And, um, y’know… talk.”

“What about your father?” the dean asks. “After everything he’s been through, especially this year, don’t you think your dad deserves this? Don’t you want to make him proud of you?”

JR rears back as if he’s been slapped.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

A heart attack had nearly taken his father’s life just a short time ago. It had been the catalyst to JR’s coming out. The driving force of his decision between a career in football or a future in medical research, between following in his father’s footsteps or listening to his heart. JR would have given up everything to make his father proud… and he very nearly did.

“Of course, your dad is proud of you already,” Dean Owens hurries to say. “We’re all proud of you. What I meant is—“

“I’ll do it,” I whisper.

“Your dad is thrilled that you’re entering the medical field,” the dean goes on. “Your mother would’ve been ecstatic. And that’s not to mention—“

“I said, I’ll do it, sir,” I repeat a little louder. “I’ll give the speech at graduation.” What other choice do I have?

JR looks at me like a drowning man. “You will?”

I nod my head glumly. Just call me Mr. Life Jacket.

Dean Owens gives a last, wistful look at his star athlete before taking a deep breath. He squares his shoulders and stands up, then extends his hand for me to shake. “Congratulations, Mr. Malik. You’re this year’s student commencement speaker. Now, both of you— out . And no more explosions.“ He makes shooing motions toward the door.

My roommate rushes out of the office, his head down and mouth shut. I stop just outside of the room and turn back as panic grips me. “Sir?”

“Don’t worry, Josh. I’ll find someone to help you with your speech. It’ll be great, trust me.” He shuts the door in my face. I hear the lock turn.

Oh my god . What have I done?

A few minutes later…

A breeze rustles through the spring-green trees, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and the distant sound of laughter. As we walk across the North Quad, sparrows chatter cheerfully, unaware of my impending doom.

JR lets out a sigh of relief. “Dude, I owe you one.”

“It’s OK,” I grumble. “Sorry for using the dean’s publicity obsession against you. I got a little desperate.”

“I feel you.” He bumps against my side. “But you’re gonna be a great student speaker! And we’ll all be there cheering you on—Dad, Fletcher, Simon… the guys from the team… your family and classmates and professors. We’ll all be there to support you.”

Oh no. Is everyone I know going to watch me make a fool of myself? That’s not even counting all of the strangers. What if someone takes a video of me falling on my face? How will I ever live it down?

“This is a nightmare.” I lean against the rough bark of a maple tree, a hand pressed into my gut.

“It’ll be fine, you’ll see,” JR says. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could throw up on stage.” Throwing up would be really bad. It makes me feel sick just thinking about it. “I’m going to look like such an idiot, I’ll probably get dropped from my summer internship. Nobody is going to want to be seen with me after this. I’ll be an outcast, a social pariah.”

“No way, buddy. You’ll be epic,” he tells me.

“An epic failure!” I groan. It’s easy for JR to be optimistic. He’s already found a partner, even if it is Professor Fletcher (blergh). They plan on moving in together this summer, leaving me all by myself. “How am I ever going to get a date after this, or a boyfriend, for that matter? I’m never going to have sex. I’m going to die, old and alone.”

A lightbulb blinks on in my roommate’s eyes. “That’s it! I know how to pay you back for giving the speech. I’m gonna help you get laid!”

Crap. Crap crap crap. This day just keeps getting worse.

“No, it’s OK. I don’t mind being the student speaker.” I would give two speeches to avoid JR’s ‘payback’. He’s almost as hopeless with guys as I am.

“But you’re always talking about sex,” JR points out. “Maybe it would boost your self-confidence if you actually had some.”

“Or maybe getting turned down a hundred times will destroy it.” He acts like getting laid is simple. I can’t even say ‘hello’ to a cute guy without freaking out.

Let me explain one more thing. I may not have a fear of public speaking… I may not be afraid of heights, or snakes, or spiders, but…

I might have a tiny bit of social anxiety.

“Simon and Fletcher know a lot of gay guys.” JR ignores my worries. “And I bet there’s a ton of gay students at Spartacus. We’ll introduce you to all of them. Every single one.”

Bile rises in my throat. “Please, JR. You don’t owe me anything. Let’s just forget it, OK?”

“No way, buddy.” He thumps me on the back. “Mark my words—by the end of the summer, you’ll be the most popular person at Spartacus. You’ll be surrounded by so many guys, you won’t know which way to turn!”

Well, when he puts it like that…

I rush to a nearby bush, hiding my face while I puke like a drunken frat boy. When the spots finally fade from in front of my eyes, I take a slow, unsteady breath.

It’s time to face facts. I’m going to die a virgin.