Rizz

After stepping through the gate, the hot chick guided me through a path between the dashes of natural green. This place would feel like a park, if not for the lack of other people strolling and relaxing. Oh, there were also the three triangular prisms that were jammed into the landscape. Towering at around fifteen stories, they pointed an edge at each other, creating a cohesive structure that seemed like the radioactive symbol from the satellite view.

I would know, having looked at the campus online countless times, so much so that even the names and functions of each building came easily to me. My interview would take place on the fifth floor of the Commitment Block, but the girl was leading me to the Passion Block, where the infamous sex rooms were located.

On top of the double glass door entrance, the college’s logo watched over us. It was composed of two vibrant and curved ‘x’s side by side, the tips of their strokes crossing over each other. We passed the threshold into a spacious and empty lobby. The white, smooth walls glistened under the sunlight flooding through the floor-to-ceiling windows, with three elevators standing by at the flank. The girl stopped and met my eyes; a scowl formed on her proportioned face. Professor Silva explained that women expect men to initiate, and that flipping that anticipation upside down is the first step to drive them crazy for you.

She must have been upset that I hadn’t invited her to a sex room yet. The instincts within me silently screamed alternative explanations, but I wouldn’t let my body sabotage me with lies. Because naturally, the truth spoken by a professor took precedence over what my dull unconscious mind would suggest I do.

So I forced myself to not flirt with arguably the prettiest girl I had seen in a while. To take things further, I crossed my arms and purposefully let my gaze drift to the mural sitting at the end of the area, one that depicted a couple dancing in outfits of medieval nobles. The stalemate continued, as neither of us wanted to concede superiority to the other. That was until she took a step toward the elevator.

I mimicked her with a stride forward, determined to keep myself within her range of sight. If she couldn’t see me, how could she tell me that she wanted to take my virginity? Great as this sensual fantasy was, she wouldn’t actually say that to me, since she couldn’t have known that I was a virgin. She would only beg to hook up with me.

Instead of pressing the elevator button, she turned to me with a clenched fist and a foot stomp. Looks like someone is unhappy for not getting laid. She closed the distance between us, and part of me wondered if she was going to kiss me. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“My interview is in two hours,” I replied. “I have time to kill.” It’s not like I’m boarding a plane.

Contrary to the joy that I had expected, she sighed and frowned, showing what a great actress she was. I had never realized that playing hard to get could reach this level. She switched away from the elevator and instead set off to the door that led to the staircase while waving for me to follow.

We climbed the stairs to the first landing and settled near the wall. She inched towards me. The space between us shrank until her chest almost bumped into my blazer. I had been on the internet long enough to know where this was going.

“May I?” She asked, while her hand reached toward my lower body.

“If you insist. I guess you could. It’s not like I care or anything.” I followed Professor Silva’s advice and spoke with as much aloofness as I could muster, even pursing my lips to stop myself from grinning, but that just made me sound like a tsundere. It was too late to correct it, so I had to commit to this.

She touched the side of my thigh. The gentle caress nearly caused me to flinch, but I saved my image by whistling as calmly as I could. Still, despite my efforts to act nonchalantly, my lower body had already reacted to her assertive move.

“You are wearing this for the interview?” Her fingers traced the line of fasteners along the length of my pants, where the side seam would usually be. Gosh, this girl was hopeless, still disguising her horniness with a strange question.

“I can take them off.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You think that going to an interview in your underpants is better?”

“Not the interview. I’m saying that you can take it off if you want to. I don’t care.”

The girl stared at me for a good ten seconds. I might have been mistaken, but there was a flicker in her jade eyes that seemed to communicate disgust. “Why are you wearing tearaway pants to the interview?”

“Because it’s an interview for a sex school?”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” The girl stepped away from me and started pacing around, clutching her head as if she had been dealing with an idiot. Emphasis on the ‘as if’.

“Did you not hear me say the word ‘sex’? I’m preparing for that.”

“Oh? And do you fly a plane if you interview for pilot school?” Her attitude was getting on my nerves. Did she know that she didn’t have to play hard-to-get anymore? This should have been the part where we do the deed, and the thought of it happening aroused my frustration rather than the thing that I wanted to get aroused. Thanks, now I can’t even get turned on by the dirty thoughts.

Fueled by my impatience, I rebelled against everything Professor Silva stood for. By that, I meant I took a deep breath and asked, “Don’t you find me hot?”

She halted her pensive wandering and sized me up from head to toe. “You are hot.”

I couldn’t hide my triumphant smile. After all of this charade, she was nevertheless forced to admit that she found me attractive. However, before I could nudge the conversation to the topic of hooking up, she continued speaking. “But, you have zero rizz. You know what rizz means… right? Sure you do. Anyway, why were you following me? I already opened the gate for you and didn’t express any willingness to have any more interactions. The worst part is you did it all silently. Why didn’t you say a word? Make small talk. Deploy a cringe opening. Ask me about the campus or the interview. I don’t care. Just don’t be a creepy stalker.”

“But I can’t be creepy. I’m handsome.”

A long, exasperated sigh bellowed from the girl. Without another word, she turned to jog down the steps and kicked the exit door open, leaving me alone, with the set of walls seemingly converging on me and with my virginity intact.

Moments later, my mind finally processed what had happened. “Hey! I won’t chase after you! I won’t.” My voice should reach her ears, since she should be hiding just outside the door.

Nothing.

I waited. And waited. Until it was almost time for the interview. Instead of going straight out the door, I climbed the stairs and took the long way around to get to the interview room, determined not to give her the misconception that I folded to her games.

Yep. She must still be standing by the door, expecting me to appear. I quieted down the other murmurs within me, the ones that spoke of other allegedly ‘more sensible’ possibilities.