The Preacher's Kid: College and Beyond - 5. Classes and Friendships

I was hoping I would never have to set my alarm for 6:30 in the morning again. My first class wasn’t until 10:00, but I got an email from my faculty advisor that she wanted to meet with me before starting my classes.

Donald wasn’t too happy about it, either. I was his ride to school, and he didn’t have a class until 9:00. He was pretty chill about it once we both got some coffee in our systems. We got cleaned up, dressed, and were heading out the door by 7:30. That gave us plenty of time to fight the shit-bomb traffic.

Donald asked me if I knew what Dr. Rhodes needed to see me about. Hell if I knew anything! All I know is that she wanted to see me at 8:45 and that it was vital that I not be late. For some reason, I wasn’t too worried about it. I just figured she might want to make an adjustment or two in my first-semester schedule.

We were both enjoying the classic 80’s rock station, 99.7 The Fox. I think Donald was surprised that was one of the presets on my car radio!

“Why? What kind of music do you think I listen to in the car?”

“Hell, I dunno—showtunes and disco, I guess.”

“You fucktwat! Seriously?”

“No!” Donald was starting to laugh his ass off. “I know you don’t like disco.”

He started laughing some more and nearly did a spit-take with his coffee. “Shut the fuck up—or I’m gonna switch to the satellite Broadway Channel!”

“What the fuck? There’s such a thing?”

“You bastard!” I grinned as I used the buttons on the steering wheel to switch over to the Broadway Channel.

“Nooooooo—”

Hell yes! The XM Satellite gods were with me. The opening number of In The Heights had started just moments before, and Donald got this priceless, confused look on his face. The best part was seeing his head starting to bounce to the groove of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s catchy hip-hop score.

He was literally staring at me with his jaw hanging open when I started doing all the rap lyrics with the cast. We were pulling into campus as the song was ending. I turned the volume back down to something more manageable.

“That was a show tune?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Cuz, it was some awesome hip-hop, and the feel of the music—well, it didn’t feel like a show tune.”

“That was the opening number in the musical In The Heights—Lin-Manuel Miranda—same dude who wrote Hamilton?”

“What’s Hamilton?”

“What? What the fuck, Donald? You don’t know about Hamilton?”

“Nope. What’s it about?”

“Ummm—Alexander Hamilton—the first Secretary of the Treasury—and all the people who started the country going.”

“Sounds awesome—and the sarcasm is purely intentional.”

“Dude. On the way home—I’m gonna make you eat those words!”

I parked the car, and we headed our separate ways. It was about a 10-minute walk to the building that housed the Religious Studies faculty. I was about fifteen minutes early, so I took a seat on the bench outside her office door.

About five minutes later, Dr. Rhodes entered the hall, smiling at me as she walked up to her door. She unlocked the door and asked if I was Clayton.

“I go by my middle name, Eddie. But yes, that’s me.”

“Wonderful! Come on in, won’t you?”

Dr. Rhodes opened her desk drawer, pulled out a K-cup, inserted it into the machine on the credenza, and then opened a drawer full of files and pulled one out. She smiled, nodded to the gurgling coffee maker, and said, “Priorities, you know!”

“We will get along just fine!”

“Would you like a cup?”

“I’m fine, thanks. I had a cup this morning and another on the drive in.”

“Excellent. So—I guess you are wondering why I called you to come in early this morning?”

“I guess so—I just figured there might be a problem with the schedule I picked.”

“In a word, yes. I looked over your transcripts a few days ago and noticed the heavy load of AP classes you took during the last three years of high school. I also noticed that you rated “5” on the majority of your AP tests and had a “4” on the rest. But then, I wouldn’t expect any less from a valedictorian.”

“Thanks—I guess.”

“What perplexes me is this—did your guidance counselor explain the rewards of such high scores?”

“Not really. I just knew that it would help my GPA.”

“And I can see that they did! However, You also received college credit for Freshman English, Biology, and History—all three of which you have on your schedule this semester.”

“What? You mean I tested out of those classes? I can’t believe she didn’t tell me about this!”

“Sadly, there are some high school guidance counselors who don’t fully understand the AP Program when it comes to benefits outside the high school environment. It happens quite a bit more often than one would think.”

“Ummm—Dr. Rhodes, what do I need to do now?”

“First things first—”

She turned around in her chair and grabbed her coffee from the Keurig. She took a sip and let out an audible sigh, “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“Good?”

“My kids call this my morning medicine.”

“I get it.”

“So, here’s what we’re going to do.” She powered up her desktop computer and eventually pulled my schedule up. “The first thing to do is take you out of the three classes you don’t need. You’ve already received full credit for those classes, by the way. Now—we get to decide what you would like to take in their place.”

“And this is why I have a faculty advisor.”

She smiled and said that it might be difficult to find classes to fit in with the schedule I had chosen since so many classes were already full. She started hitting buttons and eventually smiled. “Ah! I have an opening in my 10:00 Biblical History and Philosophy class. Would that interest you?”

“Don’t you have to be at least a Sophomore to take that class?”

“Merely a suggestion—and I can put you in if you’d like.”

“I would love that! It would be like getting a head start on my major.”

“And I would love to have you join us. Now—I see you haven’t signed up for a foreign language class yet. You understand that you’ll need two years for your degree?”

“Yes. Are there any available?”

“Hmmm—let me see what’s open.” She clicked a few more buttons and studied the screen closely. “It looks like the only available classes that would fit into your 3:00 slot are Mandarin Chinese and ASL.”

“Oh! ASL sounds like something I could use when I become a pastor, doesn’t it?”

“Of course it is. I would suggest you hop in as there were only three slots open when I pulled this screen up, and now there are only two.”

“Let’s do it!”

“Excellent. Now—as your advisor, I would suggest you go with that for the first semester. You are still well over the minimum hours for full-time status. And I always advise that new students take things a little easy in their first semester to become accustomed to the routine of college studies. Trust me—it’s an entirely different world than what you are used to in high school.”

“Again, that’s why you are the advisor here.”

“Excellent! Now, I need to get to my first class. I’ll see you in an hour, Eddie! I’m looking forward to working with you over the next few years!”

“Same here, Dr. Rhodes!” We both stood and shook hands. Dr. Rhodes showed me out of her office and decided to walk over to the student union, about a ten-minute walk away.

While I was walking, I realized how grateful I was to have an advisor like Dr. Rhodes—and how incredibly pissed I was that Mrs. Phillips, my guidance counselor, was such a useless piece of crap.

MATTY

I was still glowing Monday morning when the alarm went off at 6:00. Never in my life did I imagine that 6:00 in the morning would become a normal wake-up time for me!

Parker and I decided to get up early and hit the gym in the athletic center before breakfast. I got up, brushed my teeth, and got dressed for my workout!

I went out into the main room and found Parker sitting at the breakfast bar with a granola bar and his iPad. He was still trying to tweak his schedule so he could take more classes outside the athletic program.

The athletic program basically had an entire faculty that taught all of the general studies classes to the jocks that might not do as well as the general student population. Since Parker was on a full-ride scholarship, he was automatically enrolled in several of those classes. He didn’t want to take them so he could better prepare for his Pre-Med degree. Good point.

Since I wasn’t on an athletic scholarship, I was pretty much on my own with my class schedule. Since I was planning to major in Theatre Education, I was required to take two Freshman Theatre classes and then fill the rest of my schedule with general studies work. I was happy to find out I had tested out of Freshman Math and English with my AP scores.

We were out the door and heading to the gym by 6:20. It was still dark outside—and eerily quiet. Parker broke the quiet first.

“I’m surprised you can walk this well after a night of sex and debauchery with Eddie!”

“Debauchery? You can’t say a word like that before 8:00! And just so you know—I’m kinda surprised, too. But—Eddie’s the one probably cursing me while he’s walking all over campus this morning!”

“So. Fucking. Jealous! I wish Lincoln were going to school just a couple of hours away from here. But then, it would probably hurt my game since my ass would be soooooo fucking sore after our weekends!”

“And his wouldn’t be?”

“Nope! I’m a total bottom. I don’t like to top at all. And that’s perfect since he doesn’t like to bottom.”

“Wow! I can’t even imagine. I love it all—and so does Eddie. I guess it’s great when we end up with our perfect match.”

“Oh yeah! So what are the plans this weekend when we go to Wake Forest?”

“I’m flying Eddie in. I know it’s not that far, but when he doesn’t have to deal with driving, I’m not going to make him. I already got him a room at the same hotel as the team. His parents and Donald as well.”

“It’s so awesome that his family supports you as if you were their kid. Who’s Donald?”

“Oh—that’s a loooooooong story. But let’s go with ‘family friend’ who’s living with Eddie and keeping him from going crazy.”

“Cool. Cool. You can tell me later, dude. Let’s workout!”

And that’s exactly what we did. We went to the desk and got our workout cards. Each one of the players has a workout plan designed for them by the strength coach. An hour later, we were heading to the showers. Not long after, we made our way back to the cafeteria for a quick breakfast. By 8:30, we went our separate ways to begin our first day of classes.

I had two morning classes—Spanish and Algebra. Both of these were pretty easy for me in high school, so you can guess how surprised I was when I saw the syllabi and realized how hard I was going to be working. At the end of the Algebra class, the professor called me over and had a concerned look on her face.

“Mr. Jordan—I understand you are a member of the football team—and from what I saw over the weekend, a rather valuable part of the team. I simply want to tell you that this is not an easy class by any means. I also want to allow you to switch to one of our classes that are geared more towards the student-athlete.”

“Dr. Brannon—you apparently have not taken the time to do your research before making such stereotypical assumptions about me. That’s okay—I’ll save you the time. For example, I graduated in the top five percent of a class of nearly 1300 students. My boyfriend—also an athlete—happened to be the valedictorian of that class. Secondly, I will not be enrolling in the so-called student-athlete classes. You and I both know why those classes exist, and I refuse to be a part of that.

Yes, I came here to play football because of my love for the game and the respect I have for the coaches. I turned down the full-ride scholarship because I don’t need it—and there are many others who do. My final point is that due to your ill-conceived, stereotypical notions of a student-athlete—you have no respect for me. While that lack of respect has absolutely nothing to do with my abilities as a student, my mission—as of this moment—is to earn that respect based on my work in this class. It will have absolutely nothing to do with what I may or may not achieve on the football field. Anything else?”

I don’t think Dr. Brannon is used to having a student speak to her like that! Fuck me! I’m not used to speaking to a teacher like that! She just pressed the wrong damned button with her little comment. So I fired back—using all the big words I could think of at the top of my head!

The professor just stared at me for what felt like ten minutes. Finally, the corner of her mouth turned up with the slightest hint of a smile. “Mr. Jordan, you should know that you have just earned my respect. Your mission should now be to keep it. This could very well end up being an excellent semester—for both of us. Have a good day, sir!”

She turned around, grabbed her briefcase, and walked out the door. I might just end up liking Dr. Brannon. At least she knows she can’t fuck with me—well, not much anyway!

I had lunch in the regular cafeteria since it was between the math building and the theatre building—hell, it was on my way. It was also the last time I make that mistake. It was loud, crowded, and the food wasn't anything close to what they gave us in the athletic cafeteria. Oh well, another lesson learned today.

My 1:00 class was Acting 1. It was one of those required classes for all theatre majors. I liked the class as soon as I walked in. There were only a dozen or so chairs. I liked that the class was small. More than half the seats were already taken when I got there, so I ended up with a seat toward the back.

I got my shit settled and started to check out the rest of the class—well, as much as I could from behind. Holy fuuuuuck—Eddie? What was Eddie doing here? I mean, I knew it wasn’t Eddie, but whoever it was had the same haircut, the same shoulders, even the same blue shirt that Eddie liked wearing.

Professor Hartman walked in and welcomed everyone to the class. He went through the roll, and I discovered that the “Eddie double” was Alex Baker—and a girl! What the fuck?!? Eddie’ll die to know that he had a doppelganger—and that it was a chick!

During the class, Hartman announced that there was a departmental policy that no student was allowed to perform in a mainstage show until they were able to get control over their accents. While App State may be a school in the South, it was not acceptable for their productions to sound like it—unless they were doing a Tennessee Williams play.

This class was made up of the fourteen students who make up ASU Theatre Department's Freshman class. For the last part of the class, he went through each student, giving us a brief biography and letting them say something about themselves.

Alex was from Winston-Salem, performed in all the theatre she could do in middle and high school, and was planning to focus on performance. She planned to move to New York once she graduated and take her shot at a Broadway career.

I was one of the last people Hartman got to. “Matthew Jordan. What do you prefer? Matt? Matthew?”

“I’ve been called Matty pretty much my whole life—if that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay—Matty. Yes, that works just fine. Now—some of you may recognize Mr. Jordan for a couple of reasons. He’s quite well-known for a YouTube video published a couple of years ago that got him—and his boyfriend—an interview on Good Morning America. Now, if any of you were at the football game on Saturday—right. I didn’t think any of you would have been there. However, may I suggest you begin attending some of the home games? You see, Matty Jordan is the backup quarterback for the Mountaineers. And if he continues to play with the confidence and finesse he showed Saturday afternoon, he will be a starter in a matter of weeks. I think it would be wonderful to show our support for one of our own.”

There was a general buzz around the room. It was Alex who raised her hand. “How can a football player and a theatre major exist in the same body? That’s just not right!”

The class laughed, and Hartman looked over to me. “Mr. Jordan, would you care to answer Miss Baker?”

I smiled and stood. “I know, I know—I’m a freak of nature. I honestly hadn’t even considered playing college ball. It was on that GMA thing when I found out that App State was even interested. I had planned on being a theatre major and teach high school drama. Well, that’s still my plan. It just may take a little longer with this football thing. I sincerely do love the game and am grateful I still get to play it. But theatre is, and always has been, my first love.”

“Well, next weekend’s game is in my hometown. I guess I’ll be going to the game now. If anyone wants to join me, we can do the slumber-party-in-the-basement thing and go support our football boy!”

Hartman then announced that he would give us a quick tour of the theatre and the facilities. We got our shit together, and he took us into the theatre. He showed us the backstage areas, the shop, the dressing rooms, the lighting booth, and then back downstairs to the costume shop.

The professor told us that the ASU theatre program's advantage of only having three full-time professors was that it is up to the students to work in all production areas on the school's shows. He then took us back to the stage, where we met Dr. Johnson. He was the school's tech director and would be teaching our next class—Stagecraft.

We had ten minutes before the next class would start. Alex grabbed the seat next to me, and I had to tell her! “When I saw you after I sat down, I kinda freaked. You look just like my boyfriend from behind. It kinda freaked my shit out—especially when I found out you were a girl. I mean—there’s nothing feminine about him—and now that I’m talking to you, there’s nothing at all masculine about you! I’m Matty, by the way.”

“Yeah. I totally know who you are! I follow you on the social media shit. You see, when that YouTube thing happened, everyone was telling me how much I looked like your boyfriend. It pissed me off at first, but the more I got to know about you guys, the more I liked it. I can’t believe you’re in this department! We will be besties—I promise you that.”

“That would be cool! And you’re really going to be at the game this weekend?”

“Hell yeah, now that my new bestie is gonna be playing!”

“Well, I’m just the backup. Wake Forest is a Power Five school. Chances are I’m not gonna see much playing time.”

“Do you want to play?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then make it happen. Play your ass off in practice and show the coaches they have to put you in the game. My philosophy in life is if you want something, you have to go after it. That’s how I roll—and it’s worked for me so far.”

“Well, fuck me—you even say the same kind of shit he says—just a little more directly!”

Alex and I talked until class started. We then got a tour of the scene shop and were told that we would do a lot of the grunt work for the first year. He laughed when a couple of people groaned and then added, “Don’t worry, next year’s freshmen will get to do the grunt work for you guys.”

Once class ended, we discovered we were both finished for the afternoon. Well—I had a team meeting before dinner. We were going to watch some video from the game and learn the gameplan for our next one. We decided to get a coffee at the Student Union and get to know each other a little bit better.

So—you know how when you click with another person, and you find yourself talking and laughing for what seems to be fifteen minutes? Only it’s 90 minutes? Alex was right. We were going to be besties. She was totally excited to learn that she would probably be meeting Eddie and the rest of the family on Saturday.

Practice—well, the meeting—went way better than I ever thought it would! I was expecting the coaches to show videos of Devon leading the offense and giving me pointers on things I needed to improve my game. Nope! Not what happened at all!

After showing a few plays from the first half of the game, Coach Clark went right to the second half and showed a ton of plays, with me leading the offense. Holy Shit! Coach was giving Devon pointers on things he wanted to see next weekend.

After the game review, Devon, Johnny, and I were taken to a conference room to meet with the quarterbacks coach. Fucker didn’t beat around the bush, either. “Brown! You’re listed as the starter for the Wake Forest game. Now—and this is direct from Coach Clark—you will take the pointers given to you in the meeting and make some improvements in your game. As far as I’m concerned, they need to be some significant improvements.

“Yes—you did what was expected. You got us out to a decent lead. But here’s the thing. You lack passion, son. You execute the plays exactly as you do in practice. But—and listen very closely to what I’m telling you—as of right now, the boys look to Jordan as their leader. That doesn’t bode well for you, Mr. Brown. If you don’t find that passion, Jordan will officially become their leader.

“Jordan—you and Brown will be splitting time with the first team this week. You caught Coach Clark’s eye Saturday afternoon. He wants you even more prepared Saturday. Wilson—you’ll be leading the second team when Brown or Jordan isn’t there. Work your ass off, kid. You might just lose that red shirt before the end of the season.”

After our meeting, I pulled Devon off to the side to talk with a little privacy. “Dude, I’m sorry about that. They shouldn’t have come down on you like that. You’re awesome.”

“Look, it’s alright. I’m not surprised. Clark likes you—Hell, even loves you. He’s the one who went to Charlotte and scouted you. He feels like you’re his find. And let’s be honest, you come with more than a little notoriety—and Clark thinks that’s good for the school. We’re a small Division I school. Any press we get helps the school in the polls. Besides, you want it more than I do.”

“No. That can’t be true.”

“It is—my heart’s just not into the game so much now that we lost Drinkwitz. I was his guy. He recruited me. I’m here for the scholarship. It’s the only way I can get a degree, and out of the shithole place I grew up in.”

“You can’t give up, man! The team needs you. You’re a fucking awesome quarterback. You earned the starting spot on your own.”

“I don’t know—”

“Dude, how did it feel when you played in high school?”

“It was awesome. It was the only time I felt completely alive. It was fun.”

“And last year?”

“I wanted nothing more than to make Drinkwitz proud that he recruited me. I did everything I could to make a good impression on him.”

“And you tried so hard to impress the coach you forgot that football is fucking fun. You stopped having fun, and you stopped feeling completely alive?”

“And you’re gonna stand there and tell me you had fun Saturday afternoon?”

“Not at first. I was nervous as shit. I’ve never played ball in front of more than a couple thousand people. That stadium was packed—and loud as fuck. But—once I settled into the whole thing, I had the time of my life. I’ve never in my life had so much fun playing football. Coach called it passion. Honestly? I just had a fucking blast.”

“And you’re telling me that you aren’t trying to impress the coaches—or the press—or the fans?”

“You know something? Before he died, my Dad used to tell me that people’s true opinions of you can’t surpass the opinions you have of yourself. No one will ever see you any more passionate about life than you allow yourself to be. No one will ever see you more talented than you truly believe you are. So—what he was really saying was stop trying to make people think a certain way about you. Instead, do whatever you can to make yourself the person you want to be. Others will be right there for your ride.”

“So you’re sayin’ I just need to start having fun, and everything will be alright? That’s crazy. You’re crazy.”

“Dude, I’m just telling you how I approach the game and practice. I’m not telling you to do anything, but hey—if you try to have at least some of the fun you used to have, could it hurt?”

Devon’s phone buzzed, and he looked at the text. “Sorry, Jordan. My girlfriend is waiting for me to meet up with her. I gotta run. Thanks for the pep talk. We’ll see, okay?”

“Cool.”

I went on to the cafeteria and met up with Parker and a couple of the other freshmen on the team. It was kinda weird—the way everyone was congratulating me on the coaches’ comments from the meeting. I have to admit it was pretty cool hearing all that shit.

About five minutes after I got back to my room, my phone buzzed with a Facetime from Eddie. Yes! I opened the call, and there was my boy—totally naked and hard as a rock.

He was talking kinda weird but said, “I sent you a present today. It should be there Wednesday. But when you get it, you have to open it when no one else is around.”

“Dude! What did you send me?”

“You wanna see, baby?”

“Fuck, yes!”

I’ll be damned if Eddie Hamilton didn’t roll back and expose his ass—with a dildo all the way in! “It’s almost identical to yours, babe. I sent you one almost identical to mine.”

“Fuck! That’s hot as fuck, Eddie! Do it! Fuck yourself with it!”

Eddie started moving the fake dick in and out of his ass—moaning and groaning like he does when I’m inside him. I started stroking my dripping cock, using my precum as lube.

Eddie was totally getting into this! “Fuck me, Matty! I love feeling you destroy my ass!”

He was pounding his ass with the dildo like I do when I long-dick him. He had one hand on the dildo while the other hand was stroking. I knew he was getting close when he started thrashing on our bed. Fuck, this was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen! I wasn’t far behind Eddie.

“I’m gonna nut real soon, Eddie! So. Fucking. Close!”

“Nut inside me, Matty! Do it! Now!”

Bam! We both nutted onto our faces, necks, and chest. That was amazing! I couldn’t wait for Wednesday to get here!

After we cleaned ourselves up, we slipped under the blankets and talked about our first day of college. I was totally proud of my boy passing out of so many classes. It sounds like his faculty advisor completely has his back. Then he asked me about my first day.

I told him about my chat with my algebra professor and how I made sure she knew I was here for the education and football. He was even more excited when I told him about the team meeting and compliments from the coaches. Then I got to the part I was excited to share with him.

“So I got to my acting class and looked up. I swear to God, I freaked out. Right in front of me was—you! I couldn’t believe it! It was your hair, your haircut, your build—blew my mind.”

“No way!”

“Yes way! Eddie Hamilton—you have a doppelganger!”

“A what? What the fuck is a doppelganger?”

“It’s like your double.”

“Whoah! That is freaky—what’s his name?”

“Alex—only he’s a she.”

“What the fuck? I look like a chick?”

I explained how all of her friends thought she looked like him when they saw the YouTube video. I told him how we connected and that she was from Winston-Salem and would be at the game Saturday. She was totally psyched to meet him.

“Yeah. Sounds like fun, I guess.”

“What? Eddie? What’s going on?”

“Oh—nothing, really. It’s just weird knowing that I have this doppelganger thing out there in the world, and you’ve met—her. Are you saying I’m what—girlie?”

“No! God, no! It’s just when I saw her, it made me think about you even more than usual—which is pretty much all the time. Eddie? Are you jealous?”

“No! I know you love me. I know I love you. You just had a much better first day in college than I did—that’s all.”

“Babe—you don’t have a thing to worry about. Alex is a girl. I’m totally not interested in anything other than friendship. Hell—I hope you know that even if she were a dude, you’d have nothing to worry about. I love you, Eddie Hamilton. Only you. For-fucking-ever, babe. Everything good that comes in my life is because I have you in my heart. You’re my rock. I love you!”

“I know, babe. I’m sorry—I’m just being silly. I can’t wait to meet her on Saturday. But I hope she knows she doesn’t get to hang out with us after the game!”

“I’m sure she has that part figured out—and I promise to tell her next time I see her.”

“I know, Matty. I’m sorry I acted weird there. God! I wish we were holding each other right now. Saturday night was so amazing—it just made me miss you even more last night—and all day today.”

“I hear that! Man, do I hear that! So, what do you have going tomorrow?”

“Classes until three. How about you?”

“Practice at 7:30 a.m., then classes and weight training in the afternoon. Dinner and more practice after that. I’ll call you when I get back to the dorm, k?”

“Call? Or Facetime?”

“Fucking Facetime! It helps to see you every night—even if it’s digital.”

We ended the call, and I stayed in bed. What the fuck was going on with Eddie? He acted like he was jealous of Alex. Well, that’s just crazy. Totally crazy!