the bonus book | ✓

in Oliver's room

Gwen

"It's an important question," I ask breathlessly. "Do you have any?"

Oliver looks at me. He looks drunk. "I think I do."

"If not, you'll have to go to Owen. He and Jason will never let you hear the end of it," I say as I hold his shoulder for support.

"I am a hopeful person, although I may not look like one," Oliver replies. He is breathing hard.

"So?" I ask.

"Back when we were taking guitar lessons; I was taking guitar lessons," Oliver replies, "I bought a few."

"Oh," I say.

"Yeah," Oliver says.

A moment later I have another question, "But that was quite long ago, don't they expire?" I ask, confused. I have no idea what I'm talking about.

"Um," Oliver says. "I don't know. Do they?"

I realize he is just as inexperienced as I am.

"I thought you'd have some idea," I say, looking at him. "I mean, you had a really beautiful girlfriend, so..."

"What made you think I would-" Oliver shakes his head. "You also had a boyfriend."

"Eh." I make a face.

"So..." I clear my throat and look up at him as he hovers over me.

"So..." he replies.

"Maybe we should look at the packaging?" I suggest.

Oliver shakes. He laughs, burying his head in my shoulder.

"Maybe we should," he says, trying to stop laughing. I smack his shoulder. He reaches for his bedside drawers to get it.

I have a feeling it's gonna be a long night.

*****

Oliver pauses. I look up at him hovering over me. He looks confused.

"Any problem?" I ask him.

"It gives 99 percent safety," Oliver comments, "That's not reassuring."

"Oh, come on!" I say. Oliver sits up.

"Alright, let's get you undressed because you have to put on something else," I say, pulling down his clothes.

"Why does it come in different flavors?" Oliver asks, making a face.

I look at him, "Ever googled?"

Oliver looks at me, "I don't google this stuff."

"Or you can just ask Jason," I shrug.

"Never," Oliver says and pauses. So do I.

"Wow, will you look at that?" I nod, "Little Oliver is not so little and he is saluting me."

Oliver decides not to say anything.

"Alright," I take the package from his hand, tear it and bring out the thing we need, "Let's get you wrapped up, buddy."

"Are you really talking to my-?" Oliver doesn't finish his sentence.

"Well somebody has to. I bet he has been so lonely all this time," I say as I try to figure out how I actually put that on him.

Oliver stays silent. I am here trying to figure out which part is inside and which will go outside. I once saw a girl making a water balloon with it in a vine. That's all experience I have with it.

"I think it goes this way," I say, "Doesn't it?"

Oliver looks down and contemplates, "Probably..."

I turn it over, "Or-"