I'm with Stupid by Geoff Herbach Read Free Book Online Page A

wanted to punch my face.
    Several people, including the cute tour guide (who showed up wearing these big, plastic smart-girl glasses) and Sean McDermott and the head coach, were there when the driver picked me up for the airport. They all shook hands with me.
    Sean said, “Total pleasure to meet you, man.” I believed him.
    â€œYeah. Awesome to meet you. Awesome. Thank you,” I said.
    Leaving campus in the cab, I felt so light and excellent and I could breathe and there was no tweak in my stomach. Oh balls. Yes. I could picture my future away from high school for the first time.
    No Aleah thoughts. No basement bed. Beautiful Frisbees. Blue skies and mountains.
    Off we rolled. The buildings at Stanford are this white brick and they have these Spanish red roofs that I really like (mostly from seeing them on COPS ). And I thought about that Frisbee and smart people and green, green lawns, and you know what? The beer was pretty tasty if you like goat pee that makes you relax—because holy balls, the only way I can usually relax is to run my ass off for like an hour straight.
    I called Gus from the airport.
    â€œGood times?” he asked.
    â€œShit, man,” I said. “Thanks for the help.”
    â€œI’m your top advisor. Remember that when you get your NFL contract. I want a full-length leather coat to wear in your entourage.”
    â€œMaybe some big gold chains?”
    â€œYes,” Gus said. “Old school bling please. A bejeweled grill.”
    â€œOkay,” I said. I meant it. I would get him those things if I ever could. And I would make him wear them.
    ***
    But I couldn’t tell anyone (other than Gus, of course). I had to wait until February 1, even though I made my decision that day in November.
    Why wait?
    This had seemed like sort of a cool deal early in the fall, when everything was easy and sweet and I imagined Aleah there smiling behind me. A producer from ESPN asked me to make my college announcement live on National Signing Day. Part of the deal was that I had to keep it secret. “You can tell no one. Do you understand?” the producer said. “We’ll break the news.”
    â€œAwesome,” I said.
    Awesome? Really? Not for a dumbass like me.
    Back home, I texted Aleah: I won’t even tell you I’m going to Stanford.
    She didn’t text back.

Chapter 12
    Justify Your Decision
    Stanford.
    The secret lodged itself in my chest like a fat chicken.
    The following week was short due to Thanksgiving. Instead of going to school, I got the flu (might have been psychosomatic—caused by the fat chicken).
    Colleges called me. My Facebook and Twitter bubbled with recruitment. I watched TV and thought about Frisbees and mountains. I am in love with California!
    ***
    For Thanksgiving, Jerri and I ate grilled cheese sandwiches (burnt). Then she studied and I watched football on TV alone. Green Bay Packers.
    The fat chicken pecked my lungs all Sunday. Want to celebrate good things! Why can’t I just celebrate this?
    ***
    I couldn’t stay home the next week.
    â€œYou like California, man?” Cody asked by my locker Monday morning.
    The fat chicken choked, scratched. I blinked at him.
    â€œPretty cool?” he asked.
    I pressed my forehead against the cold metal. “Yeah…yeah, it was pretty okay,” I said. My face got hot.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” he asked. “Did it go bad?”
    â€œNot great,” I said.
    â€œScrew Stanford, man. We want you in the Midwest.”
    â€œThanks,” I said. Here’s what I wanted to say: Stanford is the most beautiful place in the world because there are bridges that disappear into the sky and old houses that look like they’re made out of freaking candy, and did you know there are foggy mountains out there in the world, not just on TV, and little dudes in dresses who smile and say, “You’re welcome,” when you order iced tea?
    In Current Events class,