Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t give her cancer.”
I hand over the baggie of cookies I brought for him. “Here. I made way too many.”
Four dozen, to be exact.
I don’t know what my problem is.
Felix takes out one of the cookies and inhales it. Two bites and it’s gone.
“Aw,” he says, mouth full and crumbs on his lips. “You did such a good job, Jake.”
“Right? Didn’t have any problems or anything.”
Wow. I am such a liar.
“Did you like baking?”
“Yeah, I really did. It’s kind of weird though.”
“Why?”
“I just didn’t expect to be that into it.”
“Mm. These are good.” He takes out another and devours it. “Like, really good.”
I blink, and that one disappears too. “You eat like you haven’t had food in days.”
“More like thirty minutes. I just had three hot dogs and a twenty-piece nugget meal.”
“Where the hell does it all go?”
“Mostly to my dick.”
I stare at him. Did he just say…
“What?” I ask.
He cracks up. “I don’t know. I guess I have a fast metabolism.”
“Did you just say the food goes to your dick?”
“Yeah. Wouldn’t that be crazy? If you could also gain weight in your dick? Like instead of your stomach, your dick gets bigger? And then you have to work it out somehow? But like, not by fucking. That wouldn’t work. You’d really need to isolate that muscle.”
No words. I have no words right now.
“You’re imagining it, aren’t you?” he asks.
My head jerks back. “I am not imagining your dick.”
“Not my dick. Just some anonymous dick gaining weight.”
“No,” I say firmly, because no.
How fucking strange.
“It’s hard not to picture it. I mean, now that’s all I’m thinking about… for real, my dick would be so big.”
“Jesus. This is fucked up.”
“It’s funny. I don’t think it’s fucked up.”
“You need to stop talking about large dicks.”
“Because you’re imagining it…”
“Yes,” I nearly shout. “Fine, okay? How can I not? You won’t shut up about it! And now I have this image in my head of some dude working out his dick with dumbbells—Sorry, ma’am. I mean, Sister. Right. Yeah, I probably shouldn’t talk like that in front of a church. Or ever. You’re right—Shit. That was so fucking awkward. Oh, you’re such an asshole. I hate you.”
Felix is nearly buckled in half, holding on to his stomach as his laughter bellows out around us.
When he tilts his head back to look at me, I see tears in his eyes.
I start laughing then too. I can’t help it.
I shove him toward the doorway, and we stumble forward together.
“Asshole,” I whisper.
“She’s probably praying for you right now.”
“Probably.”
“Holy fuck, that was funny.”
We enter the room, and Felix tells me to grab two seats before he heads toward the snack table, and that keeps the laughter quaking inside my chest.
Because dick curls using a dumbbell. A dick getting into shape.
I can’t stop thinking about it now.
I’m still amused even after I’m sitting down. I can’t remember the last time I laughed this much.
“Here.” He hands me a cupcake after taking the seat beside me. “Are you still thinking about it?”
“Shut up,” I growl, teeth clenched. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
His shoulder shakes against mine.
We’re sitting close. These chairs are too fucking narrow, I guess. Everything is lined up.
Arms, hips, thighs.
The weight of him is constant.
And when I shift over the slightest amount, he shifts over with me. Whatever space I just created is eliminated.
“What?” he asks when I glance over at him.
His brown eyes blink and then blink again. There’s blue frosting on his lip. And I swear to God, he looks worried that I’ll call him out, like what are you doing or why do you keep staying so close to me. Maybe he’s nervous I’ll point out that he did the same thing yesterday on the sidewalk when I tried to give him some space, and I want to. I want to know why he keeps doing it. I want him to know it doesn’t really bother me, I’m just curious about his reason.
I want to tell him it hasn’t always been exclusively girls for me.
But Felix looks worried, and I don’t know if I should say any of that, so I don’t say anything.
“Jake.” His tongue chases after the frosting, and I swallow so fucking loud. I swear that nun probably hears it.
“Mm?”
“You okay?”
I don’t get to answer that question because someone taps the mic, and the meeting gets started. We both look ahead and eat our cupcakes. I’m saved from having to respond, and I think I’m grateful, even though I’m sure I would’ve been fine.
It’s just really hot in here all of a sudden.
Later that night, I’m in my room Googling shit about addiction.
12 Steps For Your Recovery and 14 Reasons Being Sober Makes Your Life Better.
I read through different guides to sobriety, tips and tricks, and stupid fucking motivational quotes that really aren’t stupid at all.