Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
They must’ve passed in the hallway because Stephen enters one second later. “Hi, Miss Redding.” He adds an awkward wave to the greeting and sits down on the other side of the circle from me. “How’re you doing?”
“Hi, Stephen!” I greet him, genuinely glad to see him. He’s got so much potential and is doing better with every class. “Welcome!”
Stephen nods, and I greet all the guys as warmly, waiting as they fist-bump and high-five each other before sitting down for class.
“Today, we’re going to talk about what’s sexy—”
“You are,” Lucas interjects, and several guys chuckle.
I cut my eyes his way, calling him on his shit. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
He licks his lips lasciviously. “Yeah, you know, just letting you know that I appreciate you.”
“But that’s not appreciating me. It doesn’t flatter me, acknowledge my value, or show even a bare-boned understanding of what it’s like to be a woman in today’s world. You worry about getting rejected when you shoot your shot,” I chastise him, flatly and professionally. “Meanwhile, women worry about getting assaulted. Hell, do you know that I can’t even pee here? I won’t take the risk of being that vulnerable in a building full of men. It’s not an even playing field, and nobody asked for your opinion on my body, so keep it to yourself and mind your own business, m’kay?”
Lucas’s eyes have gone wider and wider with embarrassment, but then they narrow as he glares at me angrily. “Dayum, I was just trying to compliment you. No need to get all bitchy about it.”
“You should apologize,” Stephen says. His voice is stronger, more commanding than I’ve ever heard from him, and inside, I do a tiny cheer for his confidence growth.
“Thanks, Stephen. But rather than an apology, Lucas . . . I want you to think about what I’ve said and evolve.” Suitably chastised, he nods, and I continue with the lesson. “Let’s discuss—like adults—what’s sexy and how our experiences shape our preferences.”
I click to the title slide, forcing lightness into my voice. “I Like Big Butts And I Don’t Know Why,” I say as I get started.
We go through it all, both female and male traits that are typically considered attractive—big butts, little butts, big breasts, little breasts, smile, hair, height, muscles, dad bods, beards, clean-shaven, big dicks, long dicks, and thick dicks. Because of course they want to talk about dicks as much as possible to see if I’ll blush, which for the record—I don’t.
I think by the end of it, they’re getting it—it’s all sexy.
“And those ideals of what’s sexy to you specifically are shaped by everything around you—advertisements, social media, society at large, or even something as simple as a big-titty Goth girl being nice to you one time and now that’s your dream girl,” I half-joke. “So be mindful about what you’re inputting into your mind as sexy.”
Soon, we run out of time, and the guys stand, ready to carry on with whatever else is on their calendar for the day. Lucas gets my attention and sends me a chin lift of acknowledgement on his way out the door. It’s not an apology, exactly, but he’s saying he’ll think about what I said. It’s enough for now.
Surprisingly, it’s Anthony who comes over to me.
“Miss R, wanted to say sorry again. We were being stupid that day, goofing off, and I didn’t think for a second that we might’ve scared the fuck out of you and your friend.” He runs his fingers through his hair anxiously, and I can still see the faintest suction cup outline on his forehead, even this many weeks later.
“Thank you. I truly appreciate that,” I tell him.
When he leaves, I realize Stephen is still here, stacking chairs along the far wall.
“Let me help with that,” I say with a warm smile. “Thank you, Stephen . . . for the chairs and for calling Lucas out. It makes a difference when your peers do it instead of me.”
He snorts derisively. “He’s not my peer. He’s a cretin looking to get laid.”
A small laugh escapes at his vehemence, but Stephen doesn’t crack a smile, much less laugh. I glance back at the door the guys walked out of and wonder if Stephen’s right.
“I liked your perspective on attractiveness increasing as you get to know someone—”
Whatever Stephen was going to say is cut off by Jim coming in. “Hey, Samantha, come check this out. The boys are chattering ‘bout your classes on the podcast. You probably wanna hear this.”
“Oh!” I exclaim. “Thanks, Jim!” I’m halfway to the door when I remember that Stephen was saying something. I turn back, but he’s finishing up with the chairs and his back is to me. “See ya next class, Stephen?”
He throws a wave my way with a small smile. “Sure. Bye, Miss Redding.”