Short story: An Ode to Who? - Jeffcode

#2: Perfection

Why is it that Jeff Satur seems to be following me until my doom lately??

This week has been an absolute horror. I best say goodbye to my chance of acting anytime soon as I auditioned for our college production (to which they usually invite students from our colleg's sister college) and openly failed right in front of The Jeff Satur - who, mind you, has been already been accepted into the production and basically all extra curricular music sessions in the whole school and has already records worth of acting offers - its a wonder why he had turned down the majority of them to focus of studying . Either way, I left with tears in my eyes and my heart in my ass.

A couple of days later , at my part time - which I quit as it was a summer job in which my contract ended late , plus, I never liked it - I was being scolded relentlessly by an elderly woman for dropping her egg cartons after she had handed me 90% of the shopping basket and refused to actually get a basket to put it in, And Jeff Satur was the one to step in. Like a guardian angel , he stood in front of my dumbfounded ass and calmed her down before shooing her off politely.

I thanked him 3 times actually, and all he replied with was that I should stay safe and out of trouble, that my sister wouldn't be too happy if I ended up walking home with a bright red slap bruise on my cheeks.

I giggled, a pretty ugly giggle at that, only turning my cheeks , ears and neck red, more than they were already starting to become. Yet all Jeff did was smile, tap me friendlily on the shoulder and walked out of the shop.

The final time was in fact today. During swimming in PE. This being the time at which most are half naked and feel less exposed. Well, even though a bunch of my friends have chosen the same sport for the semester I still felt pretty out of place. Especially since I needed to piss like mad but the Coach had yelled at us to leave the changing rooms the very second I put my boxers on but. I couldn't even get to the cubicle.

Swimming was tiring enough as it was but even worse when you have a gallon of piss in your bladder. Jeff , being one of the volunteer Seniors who supervise the Swim session, was the main person who noticed my immobility and discomfort in the water and so, while being scolded by the Coach for not doing the lap around the pool like everyone else, yet again, Jeff stepped in and somehow ended up getting the Coach to let me have a toilet break. It was clear the Coach wanted to scold me ,but whatever magic touch he had on people , he let it slide , something i would have never imagined of Jeff wasn't here on duty today.

It would have been a perfect scenario if Jeff could read minds ( I wouldn't put it past him). Instead I had to embarrass myself , as when he asked me to swim over to him, it took me around 3 o seconds rather than 10 to reach the end of the pool where Jeff was squattin, waiting.

He had asked me what was wrong and, with reluctance and shame, I replied that I needed to piss.

Ugh!!!

The pain of shame and embarrassment I feel is simply unquenchable. These moments won't stop replaying , genuinely making me rethink my entire existence. Especially the way he looks at me with the same or similar concerned and somewhat pitiful expression every time. I felt like a lost puppy that had pooped itself.

Though, nonetheless, he never seemed any less of the perfection that he is.

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