The most beautiful girl in school sat on my bed while she unbuttoned her shirt.

I think it needs to be said that she isn't there because we're dating, or because she is interested in me. The best word to describe me is rotund. Fat, humongous, ginormous, and holy crap that dude is huge, have also been used to describe me. No, she is there because I have the highest grade in A.P. Chemistry and she needs a good grade to get into the colleague she wants.

A day ago, Abigail approached me during lunch. If that wasn’t weird enough, her talking to me I mean, she sat down at my table. Right then a plethora of red flags went up. None of the more popular people talked to me. But she was nice and she needed my help. What she really needed was a tutor, but because of her after school activities, she didn't have the time. So she made an offer I couldn’t refuse. If I wrote a couple papers for her she would let me see her boobs. Not only that, but I could touch too. Only with my hands. How was I supposed to say no to that?

Aside from knowing what I look like there are other signs that she doesn’t want to do this. Her hands shook as she was working on her light blue blouse. She wouldn’t meet my eyes when I looked up, which I only managed to do because her hands were trembling. While I wasn't the most social person I could still pick up on the signs her body language made.

I placed my hand on her’s. She flinched, confirming my next move was the right one. “You don't have to do this, Abigail.”

“But … but I have to pass. I can't afford to get anything less than a B.” Her voice trembled when she spoke. I was the biggest slimeball ever.

“You will, I promise. But not like this. I shouldn't have let it get this far.” I dropped my hand and my gaze. “I’m sorry.”

Her warm and soft hand touched my cheek. She gently lifted my head so we looked at each other. “Don't be sorry. This was my idea. I’m sorry I put you in this position. I’ll just go.” She rose off the bed with one hand holding her blouse closed.

“I will have the first paper done this weekend. I’ll have another by Monday. You will get your B,” I said.

“That's not … “

“Yes, it is. Just because you are not going to … you know. Doesn’t mean that I can't do this for you. You want to pay me back then pay it forward. Maybe together we can make the world a better place one school report at a time.”

She kept a straight face for all of six seconds. Her laughter infected me a second later. We both ended up sitting on my bed to keep from rolling on the floor.

“I think I will pay it forward, but I am not going to give some eighties movie wanna be speech while I do it,” Abigail said.

“Fair enough.” I stood and held out my hand to shake. Abigail surprised me by standing and hugging me. The shock of her arms around me, kind of, kept me from returning her embrace. If I’m being honest there was a creepy moment where I smelled her hair. Don't judge me.

After she left I laid on my bed and thought about what I had just given up. Not only was I going to see my first set if IRL boobies, but they were Abigail’s boobs. That alone meant they were going to be the greatest boobies I would have ever seen.

I pulled a pillow over my face and screamed. There might have been a tear or two to go along with it. I can neither confirm nor deny that though.

The ringing of my phone is what brought me out of my pillow exile.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hey, Big Time!”

“Oh hi, Anaya. How are you?”

“Me?” She asked. Incredulity in her voice. “How are you? I’m not the one feeling up girls as payment for doing their homework.”

“Neither am I.”

“Really? Why not? I mean just because it makes you a pig doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. This is Abigail Thompson we're talking about. If not for my strickly dickly policy I would hit that,” Anaya said.

That made me laugh. Something she did often. “I couldn’t do it, Anaya. I could tell that she really didn't want to so I stopped her.”

“Are you regretting it now?” The first serious thing she said since calling.

“Yes. But I did the right thing. So you know, a win.” Even I could tell from my voice that I didn't feel like a winner.

“Don’t sweat it, Big-Time. Your time will come. Virginity is not a terminal condition. I mean they made that movie, Forty Year Old Virgin. I think it was meant to be an anthem of hope for losers like you.”

“You wound me, Anaya.”

“Serious though, don’t beat yourself up. You did the right thing and I’m proud of you. And look at the bright side. You don’t have to put in the time to write her reports.”

“Yeah, about that … “

“Tell me you didn’t agree to do it anyway?”

“Um … “

“Oh. My. God. You did! Your whipped and you didn’t even get to the baseball diamond to play a damn game. Wow! I could see if you got to first base. But nothing?”

“I got a hug.”

“Wow.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Yes, I was pouting.

“Alright fine. I’m sure living the rest of your life regretting this will be torture enough,” Anaya said.

“Yeah, thanks for making me feel better,” I said in a deadpan voice.

“Anyway. You want to come over. My mom is baking cookies.”

“Chocolate chip?”

“You know it.”

“I’ll be right there!”

Grandma Burger, my grandmother, sat on the couch watching her stories. Which is a term she used for every show she watched including The Price is Right.

“I’m going over to Anaya’s,” I said. I stopped next to the couch. “I should be back in a couple hours.”

“Okay, baby. Have fun and don’t be a bother to Ms. Crispen. She is good people.”

“I never am,” I replied.

“I know, baby, but it is my job to remind you. Just like it's your job to go to school and get an education so you can afford to put me in a good home one day.”

“Come on, Grandma. You know I’m never going to do that.”

“That is what they all say, honey. Go have fun and I will be here when you get back.”

“Okay, love you.”

After the customary kiss on the cheek, I leave our small apartment and go across the hall. Anaya, my best and only friend, lives there with her mother. Being close friends with Anaya and loved by her mom has afforded me a few privileges. One of them is not having to knock. So I open the door and let myself in. I lock it behind me because we don't live in the safest of neighborhoods. The only reason it is open is because I was expected.

“Hey, Reuben!” Ms. Crispen says from the kitchen.

“Hello, Ms. Crispen. Did you get plastic surgery again? I swear you look ten, no, twenty years younger.”

“Ha, ha. Go see my daughter before I have to put you over my knee.”

“Etu, Ms. Crispen? Etu?”

She laughed and made to hit me with a hand towel. “Get.”

This apartment was just as small as the one I lived in. A few steps down the hallway on the threadbare carpet and I was in front of Anaya’s door. It was closed, which was unusual. I knocked and she called for me to enter.

Anaya’s wheelchair sat in the middle of the room with her sitting in it. Her slender shoulders and what I could see of her back was bare. I froze with one foot in the room.

“I uh … I can come back.” I stammered.

“Oh?” She looked over her shoulder at me. “Here I thought you wanted to see boobies. Was I mistaken?” A devilish grin splits her face.

“You are wrong for that.”

Anaya laughs. She pulls a shirt up over her shoulder. To my relief, she was not topless but had it undone in the front and pulled down.

After she had her clothes back in proper order she grabs the wheels of her chair and spins to face me. The smug grin she wears lets me know she got the reaction she wanted.

“So tell me, were you excited?”

I don't respond.

“Maybe a little?”

If I had the courage most guys seem to be born with O would have answered yes. Hell, we would either be dating by now or no longer talk because I would have said what I felt. I don’t think there is any going back after a revelation like that.

“Okay, no more messing around. Sit down and talk to me, Reuben.” I sat on her bed ignoring the creaking protest of the mattress springs. The space is small enough that our knees touch. Anaya has been afflicted with some sort of degenerative disease so I know she has feeling in her legs, but our closeness doesn’t bother her.

“Are you sure you want to do Abigail’s work for her?” She asks.

“I don’t have a problem with it. I get to help her achieve her goal of getting into a good colleague. How could that be a bad thing?”

“I guess it's not a bad thing, but I don't want to see anyone take advantage of you. More so now after you decided not to take advantage of the situation with her. I really am proud of you for fighting off temptation. Who knew the bitch’s name was Abigail?” She growled that last part.

“It's not that big of a deal. I probably shouldn't have agreed to it in the first place. I … I don't know what happened. One minute I was alone and the next she was there. All I could say was yes. It was like something took over my mind.”

“That would be the hormones. Enough talk about Abigail. Let's watch a flick.”

“What did you have in mind?” I ask.

“I got the new Ultra Beast movie.”

I sat up straighter. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. It's in my book bag. Pop it and get comfortable.”