“Matt,” Jack said, his voice soft but firm. “I know it’s a lot, but I’m not leaving you here to get stepped on. Pick one, or I’m choosing for you. I’ve got you, okay?”
Matt nodded, his tiny hands clutching Jack’s skin for balance.
Matt’s voice trembled as he squeaked, “The… sock in the gym bag. That sounds… safest.”
Jack nodded, his expression unreadable but reassuring. “Good call. Let’s get you settled.” He stood, his massive form casting a shadow over Matt, and strode to his gym bag, a black duffel that loomed like a mountain on the bench. Unzipping it with a low rrrrrip, Jack rummaged inside, pulling out a thick, white cotton sock, freshly laundered but faintly scented with his cedarwood deodorant. He unrolled it, creating a soft, cavernous tunnel, and gently lowered Matt inside.
Matt slid into the sock’s folds, the fabric soft but slightly scratchy against his tiny skin. The cotton enveloped him, muffling the locker room’s sounds as Jack carefully rolled the sock back up, tucking Matt deep within its layers. “You good in there?” Jack’s voice rumbled, distant but clear. Matt squeaked a faint “Yeah,” though he wasn’t sure Jack heard. The sock was plunged into the gym bag, nestled among clothes and gear, and the zipper sealed Matt in darkness.
The world lurched as Jack hoisted the bag over his shoulder. Each step sent Matt swaying, the sock’s folds cushioning him but amplifying every jolt. The scent of laundry and Jack’s deodorant was comforting, a stark contrast to the locker room’s musk, but the confinement was disorienting. Matt’s heart raced, both from the thrill of being so close to Jack and the fear of being trapped in this fabric prison.
Outside, the team’s voices grew louder as they entered the locker room. Matt caught snippets through the bag’s fabric—Daniel’s playful banter, Jacob’s cruel laugh, Coach Stevens’ booming commands. Jack’s voice joined them, casual and confident, giving no hint of the tiny passenger he carried. “Yo, Daniel, you hitting the dining hall later?” Jack asked, his tone light. Matt’s stomach twisted—Jack was acting so normal, while Matt was hidden in his bag, a secret only they shared.
The bag swung as Jack moved through the locker room, presumably changing and showering. Matt waited, the darkness and swaying making time stretch endlessly. Finally, the bag was set down with a soft thud, and Matt heard Jack’s voice, closer now. “Alright, Matt, we’re at my dorm. Hang tight.” The zipper opened, and light flooded in as Jack unrolled the sock, gently tipping Matt onto his desk.
Matt blinked, disoriented, as Jack’s massive face loomed above. The dorm room was cluttered but cozy, with football posters on the walls and a faint scent of Jack’s cologne. “You okay?” Jack asked, his green eyes soft with concern. Matt nodded, still catching his breath. “Yeah… just… a lot.”
Jack sat on his bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. “We need to figure out how to fix this shrinking thing. You can’t keep sneaking around like this—it’s too dangerous.” But before he could respond, a knock at the door made them both freeze. “Yo, Jack!” Daniel’s voice called. “You in there?”
Jack’s eyes widened. “Shit,” he muttered, glancing at Matt. “I’ll handle this. Stay out of sight.” He scooped Matt up, placing him behind an empty coffee mug on the desk. As Jack opened the door, Matt huddled in the mug’s shadows, his mind racing with the possibility of a future with Jack—and the daunting challenge of reversing his shrinking mishap.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author