Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
I want to have sex with Boyd Gallagher.
I have no idea how to make that happen. Not really. Was I supposed to say something after that kiss? It was just a kiss. A really hot panty-wetting kiss, but still. It’s not an invitation. It doesn’t mean he wants to have sex with me. Or does it? Guys are pretty transparent, right? But Boyd isn’t my high-school boyfriend, who I knew was just waiting for me to give the okay. Boyd isn’t one of the two lanky college boys I played awkward encounter with in semi-lit dorm rooms.
Boyd is… Boyd. He all but admitted he could have brought a casual date with him to Vail, but it wasn’t worth the hassle of the woman thinking it meant something. So I don’t think Boyd is desperate to have sex with some random horny girl. He must have plenty of options. Easier options than me. Options with savvy sex skills.
Should I bring it up now? ‘Hey, Boyd, would you like to have sex with me? Perhaps after dinner?’ I tap my fingers on my thigh and realize that my leg is bouncing under the table. Calm down, Chloe. He does seem to be into teaching me though. Maybe I should tell him I need the practice? That’s not even a lie. I do need the practice. My sex skills are not savvy. I wonder if that’s a weird request? I mean, obviously it’s totally weird. But I wonder if he would mind?
“Chloe,” Boyd interrupt again. “What are you thinking about?”
“The 420,” I say without missing a beat. Apparently my lying skills are on point. “Are you positive about the 420 thing? I really think the 420 is a highway.”
“That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” he asks quietly, leaning forward a little and pinning me with his eyes.
“Yup. I’m gonna look it up. I love to look things up. Did you know that? Google is my jam.” I whip my phone out and start tapping. I think I hear Boyd grunt before he takes a sip of beer.
Chloe: Random question. Did you ever have a sex teacher?
Everly: Ohhh, like a dirty student-teacher situation?
Chloe: No, not like that.
Everly: Are you going to have sex with a teacher? I don’t know if that counts as teacher sex now that you’re no longer a student, but you should still go for it. You can always roleplay if that’s what does it for you.
Chloe: Not what I meant!!!!
Everly: No, I never fucked a teacher. Sad. I wonder if I can interest Sawyer in playing naughty schoolgirl with me?
Chloe: I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing.
Everly: …
I stare at the little dots that tell me she’s typing but then they stop. I can almost guarantee she’s shopping for a schoolgirl getup and has forgotten about me.
Chloe:: HELLO?
Everly: Sorry. Do you know how many options there are for sexy schoolgirl on the internet? Do you think I’m tall enough to pull off knee-high socks without looking stupid? My legs are not that long.
“Find anything?” Boyd asks and I almost jump in my seat.
“Um…” I stall while I abandon my text message with Everly and do a quick search on Interstate 420. “According to Wikipedia, Interstate 420 refers to two highways that were never built. In Georgia and Louisiana. So almost a highway?” I offer with a quick glance in his direction and then back at my phone as I try a new search without the word ‘interstate.’ “Yeah, it means pot all right.” I shake my head. “You are correct.”
Everly: So what did you think of Boyd?
Oh, shit.
Chloe: What are you talking about?
Everly: Boyd? Sophie’s brother? Sophie’s incredibly hot brother?
Chloe: Why are you asking?
Everly: Why am I asking? What kind of evasive question is that? Because you finally met him when Christine was born and I think you should go out with him and have his babies. That’s why I’m asking.
Chloe: Oh, right.
Everly:: Pretty sure he could teach you anything you want to know…….
Chloe: Just got a pizza delivered. Gotta go.
The waitress is coming with the pizza, so it’s not really lying. I set the phone down on the booth seat beside me as the waitress sets the pizza in the middle of the table and asks if we need anything else before leaving us alone.
“Today was fun. Thank you.”
“Fun?”
“The slide and stuff.”
“You’re welcome.” He takes another sip of his beer and watches me so I slide a slice onto my plate and start imagining what Boyd is like in bed. Normal, right? That reminds me about his penis. I need to look this up right now. I’ll feel better if I have all the variables ahead of time. Being prepared for every eventuality makes me feel better.
I take a bite of pizza and then slip my phone off the bench and do a quick search on average penis size. Which actually, as it turns out, isn’t that helpful because there’s two million search results. I need a chart. I find one and glance from it to Boyd and back again. I’m not sure what I think I’m going to determine from staring at him across the table and looking at a chart at the internet. This is so stupid. I’m stupid. It’s not like I haven’t had sex before. I’m making myself anxious over nothing, because this is what I do.