Day 1: Boy meets clubs

There are a lot more clubs than I expected. Every professor at this school teaches one or two, apparently, and there are levels depending on your prior experience. I've been dragged here by Jake and escorted by the other two guys who, if it were up to me, could go to hell. They've stuck to me like a bad tick, and I'm a little down when I realize that groups have already formed in class, without me even noticing, throughout the day. That means I'm among the leftovers that no other group wanted, and as every geek knows, weirdos stick together. So it's lanky Jake, old codger Ramiro, chick Zacarias, and me, the teacher's right-hand man. Awesome.

On either side of the entrance, they've set up a series of folding tables with the club's name and information sheets on them. There are two people at each one encouraging students to sign up, and I wonder where they get these people. Are they volunteers, perhaps? People who live here? Bored civil servants?

There's something festive in the air. I'm struck by a fleeting memory of my high school experience, back when the first days of school were underway, everything was new and interesting. Clubs tried to sweet-talk you into membership, and flattery was mixed with cheap gifts, ultimately selling your name to the highest bidder. All of this fueled by hormones, of course, and an extra dose of drama.

We stroll down the hallway, investigating all the clubs. I'm drawn to the title of one of the groups: "Pain and Pleasure, Two Sides of the Same Coin," but as soon as I see Zacarias write his name on it, it loses all its appeal. I turn around to read the rest.

"Awakening Your Senses." No, it looks like one of those groups that open even your most closed chakras.

"The Secret Language of Pleasure." I skim the brochure; it's a study of the Kama Sutra. No, too nerdy for my taste. If the rest of the classes are like today's, I'm going to end up with a headache. I've already studied enough for engineering.

"Active listening in private." I snort, definitely not that one.

I see Jake give his name to an attractive redhead, at whom he smiles with excessive confidence, and I glance out of the corner of my eye at the club's item. "Adult Toys." Eeeeeeeh, okay. Well, to each his own. And I won't deny that the uniform the volunteer is wearing is quite suggestive. The black leather matches the red in her hair beautifully, how could I imagine...

Almost everyone seems to be there; those who've already decided go out into the gardens, but there are plenty of undecided people like me. I easily find Vera; she's the only one wearing a white coat, and I stop to admire her while she decides, a little fairy in a white nightgown, pure, shining on her own.

She's surrounded by her companions, who now that I look closely are as diverse as our own group, though much more attractive. She stops at the table with the sign that says, "Beyond Erotic Massages." I see her hesitate, and even as she moves on to the next table, she glances back.

"What are you going to do, Paul?" Jake asks me, saying goodbye to the sadomasochist.

I shrug in response, without taking my eyes off Vera. Moved by an impulse I don't recognize, I abandon my companion and approach her. She's holding a brochure: Polyamory and Open Relationships.

"Interested?" I ask.

She bounces and drops the paper as if it's on fire.

"What? No!" she answers quickly. Maybe too quickly.

"Uh, that's okay too." You know, change the chip, deprogram ourselves… I want to be funny and punch myself in the face at the same time.

"I'm telling you no," she repeats, gathering the sides of her pajamas with both hands.

"I didn't mean anything, I just…"

We both look at each other uncomfortably. I guess it wasn't such a good idea to talk to her right now. For God's sake, since she's only wearing a nightgown, I'd be aggressive too.

"What are you doing, lovebirds? Something interesting?" Silvia appears from behind, hugging Vera. She points to the table next to us with the "Estudio safos" sign. "I just found my thing. What do you have here?"

Vera blushes, and she looks adorable with that skin tone. But seeing as she doesn't want me to see the pamphlet she just dropped, I grab a random one and show it to entertain this nosy lesbian. Anyway, at this point, I don't care about anything and I just want Vera to keep looking at me.

"I'll do this."

They both stare at me with their mouths open, and now I really notice the pamphlet in my hand. Fuck. "Unleash your erotic animal." I blush immediately.

"Okay, write your name here," says the girl at the counter, handing me a portfolio with a poorly designed Excel spreadsheet with only five names on it. I stare at her, terrified; she has little kitten ears sticking out of her wheat-colored hair. And she has a TAIL.

"And I thought this was a bore," Silvia cackles, walking away, leaving Vera and me alone, like a couple of Tomatoes in the sun. And the lady at the counter, of course, we can't forget her, who's anxiously waiting for me to return the pen, her tail wagging from side to side.

"You don't have to do that..." Vera whispers to me. I think she's noticed my ploy to appear chivalrous.

I swallow. Come on, I can play with this. I act a little tough and write my name decisively.

"It's okay. Time to try new things. Why don't you join that other club?" I suggest casually. "I think you give amazing massages."

Aaaaa. Why the hell don't I just shut up? We both remember the time she massaged my feet, and we avoid each other's eyes in bewilderment.

"Uh, yeah, I think I'll do it," she says, finally smiling, as she goes back and signs up for the club that really interested her. She looks so happy while she's doing it that I almost forget what kind of shitty club I'm even signed up for.

"Vera, you have to see this!" Annia's voice says from the doorway, interrupting whatever's going on between the two of us. And I can't wish her any harm, because the poor thing already had to put up with Zacarías today.

"See you later?" she asks, flustered, looking down at me with her huge eyes. I have an overwhelming urge to put my hand on her head.

Instead, I nod and wave goodbye like an idiot.

"Even though she has a baby face, she's got killer front ends," says a guy who just appeared next to me.

I glance at him and roll my eyes. In another life, I should have been Hitler's father at least. Karma has it in for me. Because here's Don Monstruo again, the two-meter tall blond who made Vera cum with his fingers.