With how your roommate left things, I feel too awkward to knock on your door on Thursday. She even tried to sit on the opposite side of the room from me, though this disgruntled the other students who normally sat there. So she ignores me from a desk away and Tachibana Sensei glares at me throughout class on Friday. I am able to escape from her clutches when the bell rings, but on your roommate’s heels again.
She also glares at me over her shoulder and with a sniff stalks away with her nose in the air. I don’t think she believes I’m only interested in you. I do realize now she was thrown off because of her own memory of the bathroom last week. And now I guess it’s about her dildo, but it’s not my fault she’s clumsy, airheaded, and so disorganized she leaves her lingerie and sex toys out.
I shake my head as I shuffle through the cool fall weather to the dorm. I keep a lookout for you now that I know you live across the hall, but our schedules must be so different I never see you around.
As I unlock my door, I look longing across the hall at yours. I saw your roommate enter the dorm several paces ahead of me, so I know she’s probably there. I don’t want to bother her as much as I want to see if you are in by chance.
Sighing, I close my door and throw my bag on my chair. I stretch out on my bed and absent-mindedly scroll through my phone. I watch a few clips of girls pranking guys in public with innuendos, but nothing really gets my blood pumping. I look at my door and frown. Things would be so much easier if I could just talk to you.
Cheers and boisterous laughter draw my attention outside. The football team is marching by on their way to an early home game. I haven’t gone to a single game this year, so distracted in my search for you.
I jump up and grab a scarf to lie on the metal bleachers. If I haven’t stumbled across you in my routine, maybe I should shake things up.
I stop by the cafeteria to eat a quick lunch and dash off to the field with a warm cup of green tea in my hands. A steady stream of students and visitors, bundled in dark coats and sweaters, filter through the gate and split as the students fill in our dedicated section.
I find an open space about halfway up and spread out my scarf. After seeing other students do the same thing, my first cold-weather game, I decided the game wasn’t worth freezing my ass off. I settle in for a windy few hours just at opening kickoff.
Thick clouds block out any warmth the sun may provide, so only my own body heat and those around me fight against the raging wind. My nose and ears burn with the cold, but our team is playing well. By the end of the first half, we are up thirteen points.
A good third of the crowd steps away for hot drinks and snacks while the rest of us ignore the halftime show. Some choir on campus sings a couple of songs before disappearing from the field and everyone’s memory.
Catcalling and whistling announces the cheerleaders’ arrival. Sometimes I like to watch, but most of the time the cheers are less than arousing. Today almost all the cheerleaders are wearing white or navy long sleeves and leggings. Watching through my foggy breath, I shrug at the lack of skin showing. Even without the extra layers, our cheer uniforms wouldn’t show much.
With no thought, my eyes follow the cheerleaders as they mill around each other in formations, building towers, and catching flyers. The skirts are so stiff and tight, they don’t even flare out when the flyers spin or flip. It’s as if everything interesting about cheerleading has been removed.
Then my eyes drift to the holders and bases and my breath catches in my chest. I rub my eyes and lean forward. You’re a cheerleader!
I watch you, transfixed, and sway side to side as people return to the bleachers. I don’t want to miss a moment while I have you in sight. Your golden hair, pulled back in a long ponytail with a scrunchy, swishes through the air as you turn and bounces as you step in place. I find myself clasping my hands, almost praying you will notice me. Watching your eyes intently, I almost wave to get your attention as your eyes pace over the student section, seeing no one in particular.
With a final cheer and rustle of the pom-poms, you shuffle back to the wall of the stands and out of sight. I stand briefly as the second half kicks off, trying to see where you went. You must all be sitting, since I can’t see any of your orange uniforms. A few people poke me in the back and ask me to sit as the first play of the half starts.
The rest of the game goes by in a blur with highlights of your cheering. After a brief break, you all took your places on the sidelines for the rest of the game. I overhear someone talking about a few cheerleaders nipping in the cold, and glance at your breasts. You must have been prepared. I don’t care about other nipples.
I watch you for the second half of the game and find myself cheering along as you lead us. From the corner of my eye, I see a few people looking at me funny, but I don’t care. When the game ends, I leap to my feet and try to force my way off the bleachers without being a total dick.
When I get to the ground, I can see the cheer uniforms drifting across the street and back through campus. I weave through the crowd in your wake, completely ignorant of the final score or even who won. I have my sights set on your uniforms and want to catch you before you disappear again.
There were a surprising amount of spectators to this game, and the extra population clogs the walkways on campus. Through the crowd, I see orange uniforms split off from the bunch, heading deeper onto campus. As our dorm nears, only a few cheerleaders remain.
Two split off and enter our dorm with me a few dozen paces behind. I hope I can catch you at your dorm room door and introduce myself.
When I finally extricate myself from the flow of traffic, I brush past a few students leaving the dorm and take the stairs two at a time. I slip into our hall behind another student and see an orange uniform disappear into your room.
My heart is racing as I stalk down the hall and my palms itch with sweat despite the cold. I brush my hands off on my pants as I near your door. Facing it, I take a deep breath and raise my fist to knock.
A cold gust blasts me from behind, swinging your door open, revealing an orange skirt peeling off a nice ass. A neon orange lace thong plays peekaboo and my face reddens as Eric walks down the hall, none the wiser.
Before I can say anything, a brunette ponytail rises over the ass and your roommate looks back at me. She freezes with her skirt around her knees and her ass on full display as I fumble with my tongue.
Should have expected this.
