Transgender Erotica Freshmen Year E-Book

Riley Long

• Herausgeber: Lavionsepab
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Transgender Erotica Freshmen Year: scholarship winner finds error in his college application.

Leseprobe

Transgender Erotica Freshmen Year

Riley Long

Copyright © 2018 by Riley All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

CHAPTER 1

Congratulations, you've been- I looked up from the letter. That's all I needed to know that I had finally gotten myself out of Iowa. A few months from now I'd be leaving this joke of a community college and getting a real degree, in a real place, and moving on from corn fields and factory jobs. Being able to live in California is one thing, but studying programming there would give me such a leg up with the connections alone. With a smile on my face, I scanned the rest of the letter.-that you will feel right at home- "Blah, blah, blah," I mumbled t o myself. Turning the page over and quickly looking at another one in the acceptance packet.-and have been awarded our full-ride scholarship due to your excellent academic achievement, leadership, and community service. I reread the sentence, continuing as it went into the specifications of the scholarship, praising my varsity captain experience, and welcoming me to the Computing and Mathematical Sciences Department. I knew that I had applied for every scholarship available, but to actually receive one? I was amazed. It worked. It actually worked! The long hours in front of the computer over the past year had finally paid off. And not only that, but now I didn't have to go back to that damn corn factory this summer to scrape together tuition! With an even bigger smile, I stuffed the letters back into the envelope and ran into the house.

- - -

It had been a whirlwind of a summer. I shared the news with my parents, who were even more surprised that I was, and slowly worked through the long, boring process of scholarship paperwork, new student setup, and finally, figuring out orientation and housing. School was a week away, and I could barely concentrate. Bye, bye corn fields! I logged into my student email and started going through the various newsletters and informational mail that backlogged my inbox. About halfway down, I stopped.[UNREAD] CSTI Women's Club -- Welcome to Cali![UNREAD] Volleyball Walk-on Tryouts "The Women's Club?" I said out loud, laughing, "Yeah, thanks! Nice automated email system you got there!" Without even opening the message, I deleted it and moved on to the one below. Being the captain of my high school varsity volleyball team was partly the reason I got my scholarship, so it would be great if I was able to walk on to the team. To be honest, I hadn't even thought of being able to play at the college level. At a hair under six feet tall, I was a decent outside hitter, but I shined as a libero. It would be pretty cool to get back out on the court while in college. Maybe even play beach volleyball! It was California after all! I clicked the email. My heart dropped.Dear Sasha, As head coach of the Women's Volleyball team, it is my honor to invite you to walk-on tryouts this summer in preparation for our fall schedule. "Women's volleyball? That can't be right." Quickly reading through the rest of the message, it was apparent they had a least a general idea of my varsity experience in high school. This wasn't just any automated message; the coach, or at least his assistance, personally sent this. I immediately thought back to the Women's Club email I laughed off just a moment ago. "Fuck." I opened another tab and immediately went into the student dashboard, finding my personal information within the transcript database.Name: Milovic, SashaDate of Birth: July 23, 1998Sex: Female There it was. This had happened years ago in elementary school, and once with a substitute teacher in middle school, but now, on my official college transcript, I was listed as a girl all thanks to my damn name. It's stupid, really. Although my family was once Croatian, we had become increasingly Americanized over the hundred plus years in the United States. As an homage to our "rich heritage," my dad thought it best to name me Sasha, a common name for boys and girls in Eastern Europe. Unbeknownst to him, because why would you want to research a name you're going to give your child, Alexander and Alexandra are the real names. Sasha is the corresponding nickname, for both girls and boys alike. Unfortunately for me, my parents used this nickname as my official name. Lovely. I opened up my student email and began drafting a message to the registrar. I'm sure this happens ever now and then, I thought to myself. As I began writing, it occurred to me that this might be a bigger problem than it appeared at first glance.If my transcript says that I'm a girl, what about my scholarship? Frantically, I went back into my student dashboard. I had signed and submitted forms for financial aid, and had even been cleared for the funds to be deposited into my account, but never had there been anything on the documents other than the words "Financial Aid -- Fall." Diving deeper and deeper into the specifics of the scholarship, I found a scanned copy of my original application. It wasn't anything flashy, a few essay questions and plenty of room for hand written responses. At the bottom was a tagline I had never seen before:The Davies Advancement for Computer Science and Engineering ScholarshipHelping young women learn to love STEM I was floored. I applied to a fucking woman's only scholarship to my dream school and they accepted me. I had written so many scholarships and applied to so many grants in order to piece together potential out-of-state tuition that I guess I never checked the details. In a matter of minutes, I had gone from anxiously anticipating a volleyball tryout, to realizing that I wouldn't be going to California at all. I didn't have the money. I spent all summer hanging with friends in order to take a breather from the past year of working double shifts and finishing community college. I grabbed my cell and texted Sam, my best friend since third grade.yo, need to talk. can I meetcha at your place? I stared at my phone as I began to break down. I pictured myself back at the corn processing plant, coming home to the same house I'd lived in my whole life, stuck in the same nowhere town like everyone else who's grown up here.at sarah's, come around back, trucks out front

- - -