Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 84289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“So you’re going to make people think we’re casually becoming friends, then gradually start to post more coupley pictures?”
“That’s right.”
I watch him caption the photo with one fire emoji then send it off without a thought.
A fizz of nervous excitement hits my veins.
Something is finally happening.
It’s like I’ve been waiting and waiting for what feels like a lifetime for anything to happen in my life.
It’s always been too… predictable.
I was fundamentally alone throughout all of elementary, middle, and high school. At home, I was the oldest of three siblings, and my sister and brother were too young to be relatable. At school, I was so quiet that I was ignored.
I finally started looking better in the last year or two, but I’d thought that my first semester at college would be an explosion of action, where people would throw themselves at me during parties and I’d be drowning in sex.
But it’s happening to everyone else.
People tell me I’m hot. They say I could get anyone I wanted. But everyone’s always hooking up with someone else, or they’re in a relationship already.
I’ve ended up in bed alone every night.
Still.
Fucking.
Alone.
It’s halfway through fall semester by now, and I’ve failed to get any action at all.
Doing this with Niko is all fake, yes.
But it’s something.
A break from the daily monotony of my life.
“So,” Niko says from across the table, finishing a sip of his cherry soda. “When’s the last time you jerked off?”
I lift an eyebrow.
Break from monotony, unhinged model edition.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a natural at small talk?”
He hums. “I’m an expert at it. Maybe it’s how I should make small talk in the line at the grocery store, too.”
I take a bite of my sandwich and then chug some water, leaning back in the booth seat.
“Why do you care when I last came?”
“Because I want to go back to your room after this and make you strip, have you put your cock in your fist, and get off for me while I film you.”
He sips his cherry soda, looking at me calmly.
I hate that I’ve always been quick to blush.
I can feel the heat creeping up to my cheeks now, and I know he’s going to be able to see it.
“Damn. Take a guy to lunch first, won’t you?”
He just shrugs. “Could do it tomorrow, if you’re busy. I don’t really care.”
I shift on the leather booth seat. “Can’t you ever act normal?”
“Fuck no. Normal is boring. What do you even mean?”
“Like… maybe asking me what my favorite TV show is, instead of grilling me about when I last came?”
He puts his hand on mine on top of the table, squeezing the back of my hand.
“Sure, blushy. Tell me what TV show you ignore in the background when you’re really watching my videos.”
“You're obsessed with yourself, Berlant.”
He slides his hand away from mine but holds my gaze. “Fine. What's your favorite show?”
“Wheel of Fortune.”
Niko snorts.
“What? What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. I just didn’t expect you to say that. Thought you’d give me some fake tough-guy answer and name a crime drama, or something.”
“You put on a tough guy act, not me.”
“You think it’s an act?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Name a guy you dislike in this dining hall and I'll go knock him out for you.”
“Quit it.”
“I would.”
“Because you crave violence.”
“I’m allowed to have a little fun,” he says. “You know, if anyone puts a hand on you, I will have to hurt them. If I’m pretending to be your boyfriend, I'm not going to hold back.”
“Trust me, no one’s going to touch me.”
“Oliver, all the women and half the men in this room probably want to touch you, students and staff included. I want to bend you over this table and take you with everyone watching. Stretch open that tight hole and get you used to me.”
I shove a forkful of mandarin orange slices in my mouth so I don’t have to come up with words to say right now.
I keep my eyes down on the worn tabletop because I'll blush again if I'm looking at his eyes, and I know that’s what he wants.
“Yo,” a voice comes from behind me.
Noah appears at the side of the table, carrying a tray of food.
“Hey, Noah,” I tell him.
He plops down on the seat next to me and drops his tray on the table, not bothering to ask about joining us.
Noah’s probably the least shy person I’ve ever met, and I admire him for it even if I can’t imagine being as carefree as him.
“Sup, Niko?” Noah asks, reaching over to give Niko a fist bump. “How are you settling in?”
“My boxes arrived this morning,” Niko explains. “Moved the rest of my shit in. Guess I’m a real Onyx Society member.”
“Sorry they stuffed you in the room with Roman and Daniel. We managed to find a third bed, and their room is the biggest.”