Chapter 2

I shake it off. Then I pick up his shoe and pretend to do a double take as I hand it to him. “Hey, you wear size ten?” I ask, as if I didn’t already know.

He snatches it out of my hand, embarrassed by its ragged condition, “Yeah. So?”

“I never really noticed before. Your feet are big.”

He scoffs, “They’re smaller than yours.”

“I mean proportionately. I’m at least six inches taler than you, but my feet are only one size bigger. On your smaller frame, your feet are huge.”

He slips back into his shoe, “So, what… Am I a freak or something?”

He looks up at me through his tangle of wavy brown hair that too often hides his round brown eyes. He’s the furthest thing from a freak. I go to my bed and pull a shoe box out from underneath. The box says Adidas Classic, size eleven. I hand it over to Alfie, but he won’t touch it.

He shakes his head, “Dex, you know I won’t—”

I cut him off, “It’s not like that. Listen. I bought these back in August, but they had the wrong pair in the wrong box. See? The box says eleven, but the shoes are tens. They’re too small for me.”

He scoffs again, “You bought shoes without trying them on?”

I’m not a great liar so I’ve been rehearsing this story for a few days now. “I did try them on and they fit perfectly, but the pair I tried had a big scuff on them. I just grabbed another box that said eleven, made sure they were blemish-free and bought them.” I rub my neck, “I didn’t realize until the next day they were actually tens. I tried to return them, but since they were a clearance item, they wouldn’t take them back. I had no idea you wore size ten until just now. It’s a good thing you forced me to seek revenge or I may have never known. It’s not like you ever lose a shoe in Strip Mario Kart.”

He eyes me suspiciously. The truth is that I scoped out his shoe size, intentionally swapped boxes and just bought these a few days ago. If he ever learned that truth, not only would he not accept the shoes, but he’d be furious with me and he’d refuse my (not-so) free sandwiches for a week as punishment.

“Take them,” I insist. “Or they’ll just end up in the trash.”

He reluctantly takes the box and tries his new kicks on. He says, “They feel good. It’s a perfect fit.” He smiles and my heart flutters.

They look good too. Really good. They’re good shoes (that were not on clearance) but they look especially good on Alfie. Whew. Mission accomplished. The lengths I go to. I shake my head. And then I notice that his little shoe modeling show has my crotch tightening again.

After dinner for two in the main dining hall, charged to my meal plan, we meet up with Ken and Gus for the movie. It’s good to see Ken fully clothed again. He really is a good guy. Aloof, but harmless. He thanks me again as I pass out popcorn for four. I just shoot him a discreet wink.

Alfie works so hard all week long that half the time he falls asleep in the middle of the movie. Tonight, my right shoulder has become his involuntary pillow. His head is a gentle warmth and I leave him to his much needed nap. I wake him as the movie nears its end so he isn’t embarrassed in front of the others. He lifts his head and gives me a sheepish smile that tingles me all the way down to my toes. I find myself wishing it was a double feature and Alfie was still… I’m not sure what I’m wishing for. Or why I’m wishing for it.

The next Friday, I’m the one in just my boxers. I lost Strip Mario Kart. The truth of the matter is that I lost on purpose. This way, I save Ken the embarrassment of having to ask me to pay for the popcorn anyway. It’s just easier. And I get the added bonuses of Ken’s pants still being on and him not offering to show me his dick as a very unnecessary form of alternative compensation. It’s a win-win-win.

Ken and Gus are gone and I’m getting dressed again when I say to Alfie, “I’m leaving you my meal card while I’m at home for Thanksgiving.”

“Whatever your protest is, I don’t want to hear it. This is not up for debate. If you don’t use those meals, they’ll just go to waste anyway.”

I’m surprised it was that easy. “Don’t say ‘okay’ just to shut me up. I’ll check my account when I get back. Those meals better have been redeemed.” I sit next to him on his bed and pull on my socks.

“And you have to eat them. I’ll know if you don’t.”

“How would you know?”

“Easy.” In one lightning quick motion, I push him on his back and straddle him below the hips. I pin both of his wrists high above his head in one hand. With the other, I grope around his oversized hoodie, finding his ribs beneath. Alfie giggles and thrashes as I conduct my examination and dig into his sides. I tell him, “I’m establishing a starting point. If you are even one ounce skinnier than you feel right now, I will punish you so hard.” I slide my hand down to his lean belly and prod and poke at the smooth bare skin under his sweatshirt. His giggles turn to hysterical laughter and I tickle his abdomen even harder. “I mean it,” I say. “Not one ounce skinnier. I’ll inspect you again when I get back and I’ll know.”

We nudge and bump each other playfully during video games, but I’ve never done anything like this to him before. I surprised myself here. It was almost like it wasn’t me doing it, like I was possessed. I flush in shame and roll off of my friend. I’m also glad I had gotten dressed before pulling this little stunt because my jeans are effectively hiding all evidence of my once again burgeoning erection. I really shouldn’t use my size and strength against my best friend. He should always feel safe with me. What the hell was I thinking? I nudge his shoulder offering a sheepish grin and a sincere apology, “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

But he doesn’t look upset. He returns my grin and nudges me back, “No worries. I’m not mad. But you can’t be mad at me either when I get you back. Revenge will be so sweet.”

Revenge? How in the hell does he think he could ever overpower me? But I did cross the line here, so whenever he tries whatever he has in mind, I won’t fight back. I’ll let him get even. It’s the least I can do.

I am a sound sleeper. A really sound sleeper. So it’s not until my fourth limb is tied to my fourth bedpost that I wake up. I am on my back, on my bed, spreadeagle and securely tied down. What the fuck? The clock on my desk reads 3:00am. And then Alfie’s face appears before me. Smiling devilishly.

Suddenly, I’m wide awake. “What’s going on?”

“I said I’d get you back. Dex, you’re ten times bigger and stronger than me. I needed to level the playing field to be able to render you helpless.”

I gulp. So much for my plan to let him get me back. He’s managing just fine without my cooperation. He hops up and straddles my hips, just like I did to him mere hours ago. I am completely at his mercy and a little scared. He starts grappling his hands up and down my sides, digging into my ribs and I start to laugh. I know I deserve this, but he freaking tied me down!

He says, “Hmm. I order you to not overeat at Thanksgiving dinner. I’ll know if you do. I’ll be able to tell.” His exploring hands find my abdomen and he examines me like a blind man. “If you gain even one single ounce of weight on this vulnerable tummy of yours…” he grins and gropes as I laugh with tears streaming from my eyes, “…I will know and you will be punished.”

Is it wrong that punishment sounds like fun? He pushes my t-shirt up and goes for direct skin contact. I have to force myself to not scream and wake up the whole dorm. I manage to croak out, “I only tickled you for like a minute. Stop. I promise. I’ll lay off the pumpkin pie!”

Uh oh. This whole situation here is having an effect on me. Again. And there are no thick jeans to conceal the results. Just my thin boxers as a useless veil. But then Alfie hops off of me. He says, “But you also tickled my foot last week and revenge has yet to be exacted.”

I try to scrunch my feet as a line of defense, but as soon as his fingers drag up the length of my arch, I un-scrunch and attempt to kick free as I howl in laughter yet again. He eventually relents, but I cannot enjoy the relief because I’m terrified as to how he’ll react to the tentpole that is trying to break free from my boxers. As he unties me, I twist my torso to hide my development. My best hope is that he hopped off of me before I was firm enough to feel beneath him and that the room was too dark to notice.

Why does this keep happening? It’s just a natural response, right? I am still a virgin. Maybe these episodes mean I don’t masturbate enough. I am as hormone crazed as any other nineteen-year-old boy, I’d guess. The problem is that the last time I jerked off, my mind had wandered to an unexpected place and it surprised me. That was days ago and I haven’t gone at it since. I look over at Alfie.

“You know I was kidding, right?” he asks. “It’s Thanksgiving. Have seconds on dessert. Enjoy the time with your family. Maybe I’ll punish you if you don’t gain any ounces.”

He grins and my dick twitches.

Nine days later I return to our dorm room after Thanksgiving break. When I open the door, Alfie is at his desk, head down, studying. He doesn’t say “Hi”. He doesn’t even look up. He’s wearing his old beat up sneakers and I notice that his new Adidas shoes that he had been wearing every day for a while now are back in the size eleven shoe box and sitting on my bed.

I ask, “Is there a problem with the new shoes?”

Still not looking up, he says, “Yeah. The problem is that you lied to me.”

“But they really were the wrong size—”

He cuts me off, “No! You said that you bought them back in August. It was all just a big coincidence that you realized I wore a 10 and you had these unreturnable shoes just lying around.” He finally looks up at me. “I bumped into Ken a few hours ago in the dining hall and he complimented my new shoes. Funny thing. He said he was with you when you bought them. Not way back in August like you said, but just a couple weeks ago. When you bought them specifically for me. At full price.”

He slams his book shut and stands. “You, Dex, do not understand.”

“Look, call them payment for tutoring me. Or an early birthday present if you want. You really needed a new pair of shoes. I was in a position to help. I can’t not help if I’m able to.”

He softens, “You are a sweet, kind, generous boy.” But then he bristles again, poking his finger in my sternum and prodding me to the verge of pain. “But you lied to me.”

“It’s really your own fault. You still tutor me in my math and science classes, but you stopped letting me pay you. I had to find another way.”

He pokes his finger harder still, “But you didn’t tell me that. You didn’t talk to me. You tricked me and you lied to me. You made me feel like a charity case.”