28 : taste

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28 taste

Obviously, I said yes.

And obviously, I told Ashley.

"I am a child of God, I am a child of God, I am a child of God..." she kept muttering, over and over, her fist shoved in her mouth as her teeth bit down hard on her pale knuckles. She was trying hard to keep her excited squealing to a minimum, but I knew that it was excruciating for her. "Please tell me you fucked."


"The sexual tension is killing me!" she sighed exasperatedly, throwing her head back. It hit against wall with a quiet thump. "I swear, one more sappy confession and his dick's going to explode like one of Michael's split ends."

"Rude!" the boy himself then yelled, his voice echoing throughout the hallway. He came into view moments later, mouth filled with bread and meat and something green. It didn't look as if he cared very much about what it was, and as he held the rest of the sloppy sandwich in his hand, I held back the urge to gag. "I swear you hate me."

"I don't 'hate' you," Ashley said. "Sometimes you just do things that make me consider hating you."

"But you can't hate me," Michael persisted. "We're bound for life. We all are."

"Says who?"

"Says kindergarten Michael," he told her. "The moment you peed in my watering can was the moment you signed an invisible contract to be my best friend for life."

"That's stupid."

"You're stupid."

"No, I wear wedge heels bigger than that tic-tac you call a penis." Ashley remarked. I slapped a hand over my mouth, eyes wide in shock as Michael's face mirrored my own.

"Excuse me?!" his voice went up a pitch or two.

"You're excused."

"Listen, okay, I am a good ten inches. That's not small, thank you very much."

"Actually, ten point seven." Ashton quipped out of nowhere. I had completely forgotten about the boy spread out across the couch, scrolling aimlessly through a Tumblr blog instead of studying- the one thing we were all there to do in the first place. "I checked."

"You what?"

"I checked." Ashton repeated himself plainly.

A look of horror then spread across Michael's face, his whole demeanour paling. "Dude, what the fuck?"

"Hey, listen, I got bored."

"That's not my- or my penis'- problem!"

"I had nothing else to do!"

"So-the-fuck-what? That doesn't mean I give you permission to wrap a tape measurer around my dick!" Michael shouted, using his hands to cover his crotch as if he was in genuine threat.

Ashton just rolled his eyes. "Oh, calm it. At least you're not Calum."

"I don't give a shit if I'm not mall bo- wait," Michael paused, narrowing his eyes. Ashley shot me a look.


"Am I bigger?"

"Let's not compare genital sizes." I interrupted awkwardly, a nervous laugh disguising the fact that I wanted to avoid the topic altogether.

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