To all the f*ckboys who didn’t love me

 

It’s happened to the best of us. You walk into a class and make eye contact with someone with whom you’ve had a lot of body contact. That’s right – the [redacted] frat bro who you hooked up with is in your class.

Usually, the awkwardness is saved for syllabus week, but not for V. It happened to me. Last week. Four weeks into the semester.

God, what have I done to deserve this? (I know the answer is that I am a whore and curse a lot and am kind of rude to people but I’ll still play dumb.)

The frat bro f**kboy walked into class, sat next two seats away from me and grinned with a smile that said, “I have physically and emotionally been inside of you.”

Full disclosure: We only hooked up twice, but there was cuddling after. That’s where he got me because I’m thirsty…but for affection.

But then he dropped off the face of the earth, ignoring my Tinder messages and seductive Snapchats until that moment in room 110 of the Whitten Learning Center.

It was like the human version of the smirk emoji was sitting three feet away from me, staring into my soul.

It sounds great in theory but was actually super awkward. What do you say to someone who stopped talking to you after what was some of the most passable sex of your life? (Hey, it was still a lot better than what my ex put out.)

I was ready to go full Meredith Grey and break out the “pick me, choose me, love me” monologue in the middle of that lecture hall. Or, I could have told him off because he was kind of a terrible person to me.

Luckily, I didn’t have to say anything. Moments after class ended, he snapped me a picture of himself and his gorgeous arms that said, “Yo are you in my class?”

No sh*t, Sherlock. I know you sat next to me and checked me out. Even though I know most of your brain cells have been killed by a potent blend of Natty Light and Juul smoke, there is no possible way you are dumb enough to not have seen me.

I took a page out of his playbook and didn’t respond directly. I feel odd using the term playbook though because I know he has never opened a book in his life. Instead, I’ll respond here:

If you need the notes from the month of class you didn’t show up to – good luck, find someone else. But I’m here if you need help studying… uh…my anatomy.

Do you want to study V’s anatomy? Have I given you enough hints about my identity that you want to reveal me? Are you lonely and just want to talk? Email dearv@themiamihurricane.com.