Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 60851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Yesterday was fun. And then before Dev could think of what to reply again, Ewan added, I meant the kissing part rather than the statistics part, in case *that* wasn’t obvious ;)
Dev laughed, happiness fizzing in his belly like sweet lemonade.
Yes, the kissing part was—he wanted to type something effusive: amazing, life-changing, multiple-orgasm-inducing, but he settled on pretty great.
The understatement of the century.
His phone remained silent after that, and although part of him was disappointed they hadn’t continued the conversation, he was still ridiculously happy for the rest of the evening.
On Wednesday, Dev was in a state of nervous anticipation that had him missing things in lectures and staring into space as the day progressed. His last class finished at two, so he went home for a late lunch before going up to his room to get changed.
It wasn’t a date, not really, but Ewan had used the word date, and they were going for generic coffee after their appointment. That certainly sounded date-like, if you left the whole STI-testing thing aside. Whatever it was, Dev wanted to make the effort to look presentable.
When he was younger, Dev had zero interest in fashion. When other boys at school cared about what brand their trainers and jeans were, Dev only minded whether they were comfortable. If it was socially acceptable, Dev would still wear pyjamas or sweatpants all day with the softest, baggiest T-shirts he could find.
When he was a little kid, that was exactly what he’d done. His mum had always cut out the scratchy labels and bought him things with elasticated waistbands. However, when puberty struck and other kids started to care what they looked like, Dev quickly realised he was going to need to fall in line unless he wanted to be teased more than he already was. At least at school there was a uniform, so he didn’t stand out. But at the weekends when he went out, he learned to wear uncomfortable jeans with time-wasting zips and buttons, and he chose trainers that looked like the ones his friends wore and T-shirts from shops that were ‘cool.’ Dev didn’t get it. Why was a T-shirt from Superdry better than an almost-identical one from Asda, just because it cost three times as much? But Dev wanted to fit in as much as he could, so he went along with it.
He kept on his usual jeans. They were his favourites, a little too baggy to be properly cool, but he had his limits. He decided to change his shirt, though. The one he’d been wearing was boring black. He liked it because it was well-washed and comfortable, but it didn’t do much for his appearance. So he took it off and pulled on a grey T-shirt instead.
Dev looked critically in the mirror. The T-shirt was a little snugger than the ones he usually wore. Naturally lean, Dev had never seen the inside of a gym. He kept fit by walking everywhere, and didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. There wasn’t a lot of muscle either, and he frowned. What was Ewan’s normal type? Maybe he preferred bigger, broader guys like himself. Ewan wasn’t bulky, but he had a much more athletic build than Dev. He looked fit and strong.
Dev sighed, self-conscious about his bony elbows and skinny arms. He went to his wardrobe and dug out a checked shirt in shades of dark blue and green. He put it on over his T-shirt and did up a few of the buttons, then rolled up the sleeves to mid-forearm. That was better. He felt safer, less on display.
The thought occurred to him that he’d be getting naked with Ewan eventually, and that was both thrilling and frightening. At least Ewan was a nice guy. Even if Dev’s skinny body didn’t push Ewan’s buttons, Dev was sure he wouldn’t be mean about it.
Dev got to Student Health ten minutes early. He booked in at reception, trying to sound completely normal and confident, as though having an STI check was something he did every day. His face burned, but he managed to say his name and the time of his appointment without sounding too strangled.
“Okay, Devrim. Take a seat in the waiting area. They’re running on time today, so you won’t have to wait long.”
Dev sat and immediately got out his phone. Thank God for smartphones. What on earth had people done in the days before they existed? All the waiting rooms he’d ever been in still had a pile of dog-eared magazines on a table somewhere, but most people ignored them.
He checked his emails and found one from his mum with a link to a cookery website.
Maybe you could try some of these recipes, the message read. You can search their database by level of difficulty and how long they take to cook. I don’t like to think of you eating processed rubbish.