Breakfast With Zoe and Samara Shrunken First Semester chapter 5 by maximally

Samara smiled. "Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to grab breakfast."

 

"Oh!" Feeling her stomach rumbling, Zoe was torn. She didn't like the idea of leaving her shrunken classmate trapped in the back of her underwear any longer than necessary—but if she turned down Samara's offer, she knew her roommate would start to suspect that something was up. Ordinarily, she was always the last one to miss a meal, and no one knew that better than Sam. It really didn't help that she was, in fact, quite hungry.

 

"I... y-yeah, alright," said the blue-haired freshman, prompting a flurry of struggles from the three-inch tall young man between her cheeks. "Let's do it."

 

*

 

Twenty minutes later, the two curvy young nerds were settled at a corner table in the dining hall, their trays piled high with cheesy eggs, beans, and breakfast burritos. As usual, the seating section of the dining hall was a teeming sea of jocks, nerds, goths, e-girls, and gooners. In the middle, a few tables of unaffiliated students seemed blissfully ignorant of all the drama unfolding around them.

 

"Fuckin' unaffiliateds," scoffed Samara, eyeing a short-haired blonde stoner tearing into a stack of burritos a few tables away. "Like, why even go to Ventus if you're not gonna join a house?"

 

"I dunno," said Zoe, shrugging. "I guess some people just aren't into it."

 

"I guess so." Samara shrugged, turning her attention back to her food. "Is it just me, or did they skimp on the cheese in the eggs today?"

 

Not much of Zoe's conversation made it down to the third member of the table. Max was still buried under a mountain of ass, forced to breathe nothing but hot, swampy air and the occasional fart. This was hell, plain and simple. As far as he could tell, Zoe had totally forgotten about him—and judging by the ominous gurgles coming from above, all those breakfast burritos were about to make his life a whole lot worse.

 

"So..." Zoe wiggled her eyebrows. "You still seeing that girl from Juno? What was her name again? Olivia?"

 

"You mean Ophelia?" Samara made a face. "I wouldn't say I'm 'seeing' her. We've only hooked up, like, five times."

 

"Oh." Zoe rolled her eyes. "Well, that's basically nothing."

 

"Hey," said Sam, more amused than defensive. "Just because you're a prude doesn't mean the rest of us have to be."

 

Zoe scowled. "I am not a prude! Take that back!"

 

"Alright, alright," Samara smirked. "You're not a prude. Just a massive virgin."

 

Zoe gasped. "Sam!"

 

"What?" Again, the pierced math major shrugged. "Am I wrong?"

 

"No," sighed her roommate, "you're not wrong... I'm just not in any rush."

 

 

Beneath the giant Brazilian nerd, a tiny, silent gust of gas squeaked out into Max's face.

 

"Clearly," said Sam, not noticing her roommate's latest fart in a room packed with similarly big, gassy young women. "We've been here a month, and you haven't brought a single person back to our room!"

 

Remembering the tiny man still trapped in her ass, Zoe resisted the urge to clarify that this was no longer true—then realized it had been almost half an hour since she'd let Max out for air. A cold wave of panic hit her. How could she have been so inconsiderate? How had she managed to tune out his struggles? And, most pressingly, was he even still alive back there, or had she just accidentally butt-murdered her favorite lab partner?

 

"Y-yeah, I guess that's true," she said, standing up from the table. "Hang on, be right back."

 

Before Sam ask where she was going, Zoe hurried out of the dining hall to the nearest bathroom. After making sure the coast was clear, she ducked into the nearest empty stall, closed the door and dropped her pants. Then, hands trembling, she started to feel around for Max. If her worst fears were confirmed, she'd never forgive herself. "Oh no, no, no..."

 

When her fingers made contact with the three-inch-tall shrunken man, she breathed a shaky sigh of relief. Taking great care not to strain his tiny form, she delicately pulled him out of her crack and held him up to her face. His entire body was coated in a thin film of buttsweat and a telltale funk that made her wince when she smelled it—but she could still see his tiny chest rising and falling.

 

"Oh thank god," she whispered, blinking back tears. "I'm so sorry, Max!"

 

"Z-Zoe?" Still somewhat disoriented, the tiny freshman looked up at his giant classmate and smiled. "H-hey. Y-you took me out..."

 

"I am so sorry, I totally lost track of time. I..." She sighed. "That will never happen again."

 

"It's okay." Max blushed. "I mean, t-thanks."

 

Hearing this, the bespectacled nerd couldn't help blushing even brighter. With almost no experience talking to boys, Zoe had very little clue how to say what she wanted to say right now—but after the mother of all close calls, that wasn't going to stop her from trying. "Listen, Max, ever since I met you, I..."

 

"Zo? You good, dude?"

 

Recognizing Samara's voice, Zoe froze. "Oh, crap..."

 

"Hello-o?" Taking another step into the bathroom, the black-clad math major started scanning the stalls for signs of her roommate. "You ran off so fast; I wasn't sure if you were about to be sick or something."

 

Of course, it didn't take long for her to recognize Zoe's blue Converse under the leftmost stall in the bathroom. When she noticed that her roommate had failed to latch her door, she smiled. By now, Sam was well aware that Zoe was very easily startled—and this seemed like a picture-perfect opportunity to try and surprise her.

 

Already chuckling to herself, the piercing-faced nerd stepped toward the stall and pushed the door open—only to find her blue-haired roommate pants-down, holding the smallest white guy she'd ever seen.

 

"What the... fuck?"

 

"Sam! Hey!" Blushing profusely, Zoe forced a smile. "I... I can explain."