The morning light sliced through the blinds of Max’s dorm room like a cruel reminder of reality. He groaned, rolling over in his tangled sheets, the cool air kissing skin that should’ve been covered by at least a threadbare pair of boxers. No such luck. Max was as bare as the day he was born, a state that had become his bizarre, inescapable norm on this godforsaken campus. He squinted at the ceiling, already dreading the day ahead, feeling the morning breeze tickle places it had no business being.
“Another day in paradise,” he muttered, dragging himself out of bed and trudging to the mirror. His reflection stared back—lean, tousled brown hair, a jawline that could cut glass if he ever smiled, and not a stitch of clothing to call his own. He leaned closer, narrowing his hazel eyes. “Alright, Max. You’ve got this. Survive the pats, the grabs, the goddamn commentary. You’re not a zoo exhibit, even if they treat you like one.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Cursed luck doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
With a resigned huff, he grabbed his backpack—his only accessory—and headed out, the dorm hallway already buzzing with early risers. The walk to the lecture hall was a gauntlet of sidelong glances, playful jeers, and the occasional whistle. Max kept his chin up, shoulders squared, pretending he didn’t notice the way conversations hushed as he passed, only to erupt in giggles behind him. “Nice breeze today, huh, Max?” a guy called out, smirking. Max didn’t even turn, just waved a lazy hand over his shoulder. “Keep talking, buddy. It’s the only action you’re getting.”
By the time he reached the lecture hall, his nerves were frayed, but his poker face was ironclad. He’d barely stepped into the hallway when a sharp slap landed on his backside, the sting accompanied by a familiar, cocky laugh. Jace, a senior with a grin that could charm the devil, leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his varsity jacket. “Damn, Max, still serving up the campus eye candy, huh? You’re a public service at this point.”
Max rolled his eyes, rubbing the spot with an exaggerated wince. “Jace, if you think this view’s a treat, you need glasses—or a hobby that doesn’t involve my ass.” He shot a pointed look over his shoulder. “Ever heard of personal space?”
Jace barked a laugh, pushing off the wall to fall into step beside him. “Personal space? Man, you’re walking around like a billboard. Can’t blame a guy for appreciating the art.”
“Appreciate from a distance,” Max shot back, shoving open the lecture hall door. “Or I’m invoicing you for the show.”
Inside, Max slid into a seat near the back, hoping to blend into the sea of hoodies and laptops. No such luck. A sneaky hand snaked over from the row behind, giving his shoulder a playful squeeze before trailing lower. “Just checking the merchandise, Max,” Theo’s voice drawled, dripping with mischief. The guy’s dark eyes glinted with amusement as Max whipped around, glaring.
“Theo, if you can’t keep your paws to yourself, I’m gonna start charging by the touch,” Max snapped, his voice carrying just enough edge to draw chuckles from nearby students. “Or should I get you a leash?”
Theo grinned, unfazed, leaning back in his seat. “Hey, just making sure the goods are still prime. Gotta keep the campus morale up.”
“Morale’s fine without your quality control,” Max quipped, turning back around as heat crept up his neck. He could feel the stares, the whispers, but he kept his focus on the empty podium ahead. At least until the professor strode in, a wiry man with a beard like a bird’s nest, who didn’t so much as blink at Max’s state of undress. Business as usual. Except, of course, when he called out, “Max, I’m assigning you to the front row for the group project. Need you up here where I can keep an eye on the discussion.”
Max’s stomach dropped. Internally, he groaned loud enough to wake the dead, but outwardly, he just nodded, grabbing his bag and shuffling to the front. His bare feet slapped against the cold tile, each step a reminder of every eye now glued to him. He sank into the chair, trying to shrink into himself, but there was no hiding. Not like this.
Beside him, Riley—a classmate with sharp green eyes and a smirk that could stop traffic—leaned over during the project breakdown, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Gotta say, Max, you’re the hottest distraction in this class. How’s a girl supposed to focus on spreadsheets with all… this?” Her gaze flicked down, then back up, bold and unapologetic.
Max arched a brow, fighting the flush creeping up his chest. “Riley, if you spent half as much time on the project as you do on my assets, we’d be done by now.” He tapped his pen against the desk, smirking. “Eyes up here, sweetheart. Numbers don’t add themselves.”
She laughed, low and throaty, brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Oh, I’m adding plenty. Just not the kind of figures the prof’s looking for.” The snickers from their group only egged her on, but Max shook his head, pretending to scribble notes while his mind raced for a comeback.
The lecture dragged on, each minute an eternity under the weight of stares and muffled giggles. When the professor finally dismissed them, Max bolted for the door, desperate for a shred of reprieve. But a group of guys blocked the exit, their grins wide and teasing. “C’mon, Max, we need a closer look before you dip,” one of them called, arms crossed like a bouncer at a club.
Max sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, geniuses, next time I’m charging admission. Five bucks a peek, ten for commentary. Cash up front.” The group roared with laughter, parting just enough for him to push through, their hands brushing against him as he went. He didn’t flinch, didn’t falter, just kept moving.
Outside, the sun warmed his skin, a small mercy amid the chaos. But the campus grounds were no safer—students milled about, and more than a few hands grazed past as he made his way to his next class. A shoulder here, a hip there, each touch a reminder of his absurd reality. He muttered under his breath, “I need a damn force field. Or a cloaking device. Hell, I’d settle for a towel at this point.”
Max squared his shoulders, jaw tight, as he resolved to navigate this bizarre world without losing his sanity—or whatever scraps of dignity he had left. One day, one class, one snarky comeback at a time. If this campus thought it could break him, it had another thing coming.
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