CHAPTER THREE
After the incident at the bar, Tom and I didn’t have any more physical contact for almost a year. We were finally rooming together, and now we were dating. I started dating any girl who could tolerate me for more than a few dates, and Tom met Richard from the GSA.
“He’s nice,” I said when Tom asked what I thought of his new boyfriend.
Richard was probably one of the nicest people I knew. While taking fifteen hours each semester, he still found time to help at a homeless shelter and a suicide prevention center. He spent his summers volunteering with a group that built homes for people in third-world countries.
“Do you think he’s okay looking?” Tom asked.
Tom was cutting his toenails on his bed in the dorm room we now shared. I hesitated before answering.
Richard was hot,
