NERDGASM (Camren)

Chapter-12

Lauren

I'm in completely uncharted territory, and it's exhilarating. Ever since our late-night swimming session, the connection between me and Camila has continued to grow and evolve.

 We're both busy with school since midterms are right around the corner, but the times we do see each other have helped the weeks fly by. Monday study sessions turn into bouts of kissing in the stacks.

Wednesday nights at my apartment to watch Riverdale turn into a fight to keep our hands to ourselves when Mani's in the room. Saturday date nights, sometimes Sundays too, turn into heated make-out sessions where our clothes stay on but our inhibitions start to shed. 

It's Thursday now, and I'm in Harry's office grading papers. I should be focusing on the papers in front of me, but I can't stop my thoughts from drifting to my date with Camila this weekend.

 Unlike our previous dates where we rounded first and second base, I want to round third. Camila's gone down on me a few times since that incredibly first time, but I've yet to return the favor. I want to change this fact, but I'm not sure how. My dilemma must be showing clearly on my face because a deep sigh resonates across the room, breaking me from my reverie. 

"Lauren, you've been staring at the same paper for the past twenty minutes. Is there something you'd like me to double-check? "I glance up and look at Harry, the back of my neck heating at being caught dawdling.

 "N-no, thanks. It w-wasn't the paper. I'm s-sorry."

As if debating what to say next, he simply looks at me for a few moments instead of responding. "If it's not the paper, what is it? It's clear you have something on your mind. 

"N-nothing."A lone eyebrow rises, the skepticism clear in that single gesture."It's not related to school. It's..." I pause for a moment, tempted beyond belief to get his take on things.

 We've reached an easy camaraderie the past few weeks, and while he has some exacting standards both in and out of the classroom, he's surprisingly approachable.

Still, I'm sure asking for sex advice from my professor and sometimes boss is crossing way too many lines. 

"It's p-personal. I'm not sure I want to talk about it. But thank you."

"Ah, okay." He looks back at his computer screen, and I try to focus on the papers I should be grading.

I'm twirling my grading pen between my fingers when another sigh reaches my ears. Glancing back at Harry, who's scratching his stubble as he turns away from his screen, I hear him mutter what sounds like "I hope I don't regret this" under his breath.

 A beat passes before he levels me with another long look.

"Hypothetically speaking, let's say you did want to talk about it. Would you like to talk about it with me?" There's a furrow in his brow, which makes him look both confused and determined.

 "It's fine if it's about something personal."

Where would I event start? 

"Um, I...I d-don't k-know..."

"It's fine if you don't, but I'm here if you'd like to talk about whatever's weighing on your mind."

"Th-thank you."

"Anytime."

An awkward, hanging silence fills the room as we both look away. My mind rapidly fires through all the ways this conversation could go horribly wrong, but I don't have anyone else I can talk to about this. Not to mention, judging from the way the student body is three stalkers short of becoming a Harry style cult, my professor is an effortless Casanova in his own right.