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."
32905 views, 19 likes, 12 comments
JM Ross 11 months
That's it.
Hope you enjoyed.
TY for the comments and the likes.
See you soon with a cook book.
FatDog 1 year
What an adventure!
It keeps growing.
Hope she blows up good.
Please keep it coming.
JM Ross 2 years
TY Plaid. More coming.
SillyGuy 2 years
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 2 years
Powerfully written. The story allows me to believe that they've stepped through the mirror. Wish I could be her.
Nok 2 years
Well, you're awesome writer man. Thank you for your stories, they always surprise me.
JM Ross 2 years
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 2 years
I like the way this is progressing. Good writing.
I like Jessica. Is Max going to make her big?
FatDog 2 years
A feedee in a sci-fi romance. Looks interesting. Can't wait for more.
Missy 2 years
A well written start. I hope you continue.