baby machine 9

chapter 1

This is another story that I wrote and published on Smashwords at ...
Ag ain, it's a new topic.
I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1

"Keep eating like that, you'll get fat," came a high nasal voice on the opposite side of the table.
I looked up to see a thin mousy guy wearing a white shirt and a bow-tie.
Ya... Of all things... A bow-tie. His oversized glasses completed his strange facade. For a few seconds, it crossed my mind that he might have been dressed for a costume party.
My eyes fell to his notebook and then his plastic pocket protector and I asked, "Are you a real nerd?"
His face screwed up into an odd smile.
"Never met one before," I added.
But I knew, I'd been rude. I tried to think of words to soften what I'd said... They didn't come.
He studied me for maybe a minute and then said in his nasal voice, "I guess, I am."
"How old are you?" he asked.
"That was very forward," I thought.
But I answered, "Twenty and seven-eighths."
"Twenty and seven-eighths? Humpff..." he muttered, "You speak like a nerdy girl. Who else would say twenty and seven-eighths? Why didn't you just say twenty or twenty-one and leave it at that?"
I hesitated, trying to think of a glib answer. But, I'm not a glib answer kind of person and finally answered defensively, "Just trying to be accurate."
He nodded as if he'd expected my answer and added, "Spoken like a true nerdy girl. Geek personified."
I wanted to act offended. I wanted to say, 'No... I am not a nerd like you.' But, maybe he was right. I know I'm plain. I think if I could gain even a little weight, I could be pretty. My bone structure is good. My face has good shape and my hips... Well, at least that's what everyone says. However, I have this anorexic appearance.
Lord, but I'm terribly thin.
Shit! I look like one of those concentration camp prisoners from World War II.
And, no! I am not anorexic or bulimic or anything like that. It's just that I can't gain any weight.
For a while, doctors thought that I had cystic fibrosis. But that isn't the case, either. Yet, I do have a high metabolism. I can eat anything I want... As much as I want.
In fact... I have to eat. I don't think there's a graham of fat on me, not anywhere.
Forgive me. I might be exadurating a little here.
But oh! What I wouldn't give for another ten pounds! Twenty pounds would be even better. I'd just love to have a round soft butt. Something to hang my jeans on. Something that would wiggle when I walk. Something that boys would stare at and talk about.
And then, there's boobs. If I start to talk about them (or should I say the lack of them)... I'll cry. I still wear a training bra to cover my breast buds. Band-aids would work just as well.
Shit! Shit! Shit! Almost twenty-one and all I have are breast buds. This isn't funny! Don't laugh! Dammit, now I think I'm starting to tear up.

"I have a medical condition," I answered nerd guy, "I can eat anything I want without gaining..."
"Cystic?" he interrupted with an odd sneer, "I wrote a paper on that, once."
"No," I answered and hoping to change the subject, I asked, "So... How old are you?"
"Twenty-one and one eighth," he answered with a smirk, "What are you, a Junior?"
I shook my head, no and answered, "Senior."
"How come, I haven't seen you around before?" he asked.
"Big campus," I answered.
But the real truth was that my appearance is so nondescript that no one ever notices me. No! Not ever!
Fuck! I'll bet that I'm the only twenty-one year old (Well... Almost twenty-one year old.) virgin on this entire campus.
There... I said it... That evil word... 'Virgin.'
There was this boy once in high school and I thought that maybe he'd be my first. I even kinda liked him. But then, Margret Hofstadter with her damn big butt and sorta boobs (a lot of padding), took him away from me and I knew my fate was sealed.
Shortly after that fiasco, I found I had passed the university entrance exam and moved on to college early.
And who? I'm saying, just who...
Who in college would want to date a sixteen year old virgin pretzel?
So, the past four and seven-eighths years have been academically, successful.
And socially... a total failure.
And so, here I sit... Across the table from a male nerd counterpart. With my honor still intact... Damn honor.
And double Ugh!
I finished my ice cream and stood to leave.
"How about another nerd lunch, tomorrow?" he blurted out with that rotten little smirk.
I stopped and stared at him for half a minute and then answered, "OK... Here... Noon? But I don't have a lot of time on Wednesdays."
He smiled and nodded.
I wanted to do something memorable as I was walking away. But you've got to have a butt if you want to sachet your ass or something. So, the best I could do was to try not to look like an entire nerdy klutz. I did my best.
"Hey!" he shouted, "What's your name?"
Some people at other tables looked up.
I stopped and turned and stared at him for another minute and then said, "Jessica."
"Like the rabbit?" he answered back sarcastically. (His eyes squinting behind his glasses.)
I nodded.
Now totally embarrassed, I turned and left.

Wednesday's Nerd lunch...
"My father died before I was born," he said, "My mother told me stories about how strong and brave he was. She always says that someday, I'll have a growth spurt and become a great hero like him."
"But look at me..." he continued, "How could I ever accomplish something like that? Maybe, I could just crash my enemy's hard drive? Kill him with my brilliant maneuvers or something."
"Are you good at programing?" I asked.
"Yes," he answered arrogantly, "I am very good. I can see programing in my mind. I can anticipate how the computer's thinking. It's so simple for me."
"What are you majoring in?" he asked.
"Pre-med," I said, "I am very good in biology and chemistry. But computer logic dumfounds me. I could use help with programing. But wait, you're already calling me Jessica rabbit and I don't even know your name."
Again, with that smirk as if he'd been controlling me, he said, "I wondered how long it would take you to get to that one."
I waited silently.
But then, his face began to turn red as he mumbled, "Maximilian."
"What?" I asked, trying not to laugh.
"Max for short," he said, "It's OK. You can laugh. I'm used to it."
"What a pair we are," I mused, "Jessica the rabbit and Maximilian the smart mouth."
32484 views, 19 likes, 12 comments
JM Ross 7 months
That's it.
Hope you enjoyed.
TY for the comments and the likes.
See you soon with a cook book.
FatDog 7 months
What an adventure!
It keeps growing.
Hope she blows up good.
Please keep it coming.
JM Ross 8 months
TY Plaid. More coming.
SillyGuy 8 months
I like the way this keeps building. I like the premise that she had a metabolism problem also.
Hope there's lots more.
Chubb Girl 8 months
Powerfully written. The story allows me to believe that they've stepped through the mirror. Wish I could be her.
Nok 8 months
Well, you're awesome writer man. Thank you for your stories, they always surprise me.
JM Ross 8 months
Plaid & Chrysophase & everybody... TY for your support.
There's an old saying that a writer will open up a vein and bleed their heart into their stories.
I guess I'm guilty of that.
Your input means a lot.
I especially like the Musst. A hormonal flood that turns a man into a caveman, fixated on blimping up his woman as a status symbol, to show fertility and good health, and to have her submit to him. It's hot as hell!
Is That Me 9 months
I like the way this is progressing. Good writing.
I like Jessica. Is Max going to make her big?
FatDog 9 months
A feedee in a sci-fi romance. Looks interesting. Can't wait for more.
Missy 9 months
A well written start. I hope you continue.