How Genius Girl Saved My @$$ by Garry McNulty
Authors: Garry McNulty
Tags: General Fiction
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How Genius Girl Saved My Ass
By Garry McNulty
It all starts with the chemistry exam that I completely blew. As we’re coming out of the classroom, I’m whining about how tough the questions were, and Toby, my roommate, isn’t saying anything. So I know he did rtsfine. Of course, he stayed in the dorm and studied the night before, while I went out and partied. Isn’t college supposed to be fun? That’s a rhetorical question, by the way.
Anyway, I tell Toby I’ll catch up with him later because I’m on my way to see my super-hot girlfriend, Lana. After failing my exam, I’m looking forward to getting plenty of sympathy from Lana. And by sympathy, I mean plenty of smooch-smooch, boink-boink.
She’s sitting there waiting for me on a campus bench under a big tree. I told you how hot she looks, right? Well, on this afternoon, she really has it going—perfect blonde hair, pouty glossed lips, glowing complexion, a skirt showing plenty of leg, and a top displaying just the right amount of cleavage.
I sit down beside her, put my arm around her, and kiss her on the lips. Why waste time, right? Lana, however, presses the palms of her hands against my best blue polo shirt and pushes me back.
As I’m wondering if her hands are clean, she says, “Ryan, there’s something I have to tell you.”
“Talk to me, baby.” Sometimes you have to listen to them for a while.
“I want to break up,” she says.
Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. “You’re kidding, right? Tell me you’re not seriously thinking of throwing away something as special as what we have.”
“Let’s face it, Ryan, all we’ve had going is sex.”
Now that really hurt. I had lavished six weeks of pure devotion on this woman. However, if she wanted to take the narrow view, so be it. “I think I can live with that,” I said.
Lana’s sitting there grimacing. “To be honest, Ryan, the sex hasn’t been all that great.”
To a guy, this is the verbal equivalent of a hard kick in the testicles. The pain is just as excruciating. “It hasn’t?” is all I can manage to blurt out.
She just sits there shaking her head no. Finally, she says, “Besides, I need more time to focus on my modeling career.”
“What modeling career?”
At this, she gets all nervous and jumps up. She puts her hand over my mouth so I can’t say any more, and she kisses me on the cheek. “Bye, Ryan. Poor dear.”
Then she gives me this look of pity and starts walking away. I should have summoned up a little pride and said something like: Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll survive just fine, bitch!
Instead, I shout, “Lana, I love you! You hear me? I love you!”
It gets worse. I hear a voice in the bushes shout, “And cut! That’s perfect!”
I look over and see this g"Tid see tuy in a V-neck sweater coming out of the bushes, followed by a cameraman and a sound man. I mean what the hell?
Meanwhile, Lana comes flouncing back, all smiles, and says to the guy with the V-neck sweater, “Was it really perfect, Flip?”
He puts his arm around her and says, “Lana, honey, you were fantastic!”
I’m still sitting on the bench, hoping this is some weird dream. Maybe a big piece of space debris fell from the sky and hit me on the head, and I’m in some kind of coma.
Lana ushers the bushes-guy over to me. “Ryan, this is Flip Flanders, the emcee of You Got Dumped! You know—the reality show? We’re going to be on national television! Isn’t it wonderful ?” She literally jumps for joy when she says this.
Flip Flanders grabs my hand and starts shaking it. “Nice job, Ryan.”
Finally, a ray of hope this nightmare is ending. “You mean this was all pretend? We’re not breaking up?”
“Oh, no, honey,” she says, “we’re finished. We have to protect the integrity of the show.”
“Absolutely,” Flip says. Then he waves the camera and sound
By Garry McNulty
It all starts with the chemistry exam that I completely blew. As we’re coming out of the classroom, I’m whining about how tough the questions were, and Toby, my roommate, isn’t saying anything. So I know he did rtsfine. Of course, he stayed in the dorm and studied the night before, while I went out and partied. Isn’t college supposed to be fun? That’s a rhetorical question, by the way.
Anyway, I tell Toby I’ll catch up with him later because I’m on my way to see my super-hot girlfriend, Lana. After failing my exam, I’m looking forward to getting plenty of sympathy from Lana. And by sympathy, I mean plenty of smooch-smooch, boink-boink.
She’s sitting there waiting for me on a campus bench under a big tree. I told you how hot she looks, right? Well, on this afternoon, she really has it going—perfect blonde hair, pouty glossed lips, glowing complexion, a skirt showing plenty of leg, and a top displaying just the right amount of cleavage.
I sit down beside her, put my arm around her, and kiss her on the lips. Why waste time, right? Lana, however, presses the palms of her hands against my best blue polo shirt and pushes me back.
As I’m wondering if her hands are clean, she says, “Ryan, there’s something I have to tell you.”
“Talk to me, baby.” Sometimes you have to listen to them for a while.
“I want to break up,” she says.
Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. “You’re kidding, right? Tell me you’re not seriously thinking of throwing away something as special as what we have.”
“Let’s face it, Ryan, all we’ve had going is sex.”
Now that really hurt. I had lavished six weeks of pure devotion on this woman. However, if she wanted to take the narrow view, so be it. “I think I can live with that,” I said.
Lana’s sitting there grimacing. “To be honest, Ryan, the sex hasn’t been all that great.”
To a guy, this is the verbal equivalent of a hard kick in the testicles. The pain is just as excruciating. “It hasn’t?” is all I can manage to blurt out.
She just sits there shaking her head no. Finally, she says, “Besides, I need more time to focus on my modeling career.”
“What modeling career?”
At this, she gets all nervous and jumps up. She puts her hand over my mouth so I can’t say any more, and she kisses me on the cheek. “Bye, Ryan. Poor dear.”
Then she gives me this look of pity and starts walking away. I should have summoned up a little pride and said something like: Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll survive just fine, bitch!
Instead, I shout, “Lana, I love you! You hear me? I love you!”
It gets worse. I hear a voice in the bushes shout, “And cut! That’s perfect!”
I look over and see this g"Tid see tuy in a V-neck sweater coming out of the bushes, followed by a cameraman and a sound man. I mean what the hell?
Meanwhile, Lana comes flouncing back, all smiles, and says to the guy with the V-neck sweater, “Was it really perfect, Flip?”
He puts his arm around her and says, “Lana, honey, you were fantastic!”
I’m still sitting on the bench, hoping this is some weird dream. Maybe a big piece of space debris fell from the sky and hit me on the head, and I’m in some kind of coma.
Lana ushers the bushes-guy over to me. “Ryan, this is Flip Flanders, the emcee of You Got Dumped! You know—the reality show? We’re going to be on national television! Isn’t it wonderful ?” She literally jumps for joy when she says this.
Flip Flanders grabs my hand and starts shaking it. “Nice job, Ryan.”
Finally, a ray of hope this nightmare is ending. “You mean this was all pretend? We’re not breaking up?”
“Oh, no, honey,” she says, “we’re finished. We have to protect the integrity of the show.”
“Absolutely,” Flip says. Then he waves the camera and sound
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