Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
I know they’ll support me. But I don’t even know what I’d be asking them to support.
I wish I had someone to talk to about all this.
So I force a smile and deflect, deflect, deflect. I turn to Foster. “When do you get the game schedule? I want to try to come see you play, but it depends on my course load.”
Mom and Dad start planning out which of Foster’s games they’re going to make it to, and—big surprise—it sounds like a good ninety percent of the East Coast ones.
“I won’t get much ice time,” Foster says.
Mom tsks. “We’ll be there to support you anyway, sweetie.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I get this little buzz of excitement. No one notices as I subtly slide it out and check the display, finding a message from the ChatUp app waiting for me.
I know enough to not open it in front of my family. It’s either going to be a fun message from Richie or a gigantic veiny dick in my face. My mom does not need to bear witness to that.
I excuse myself and head down the hall to the bathroom. When I open the app, I ignore the few messages waiting for me and home in on the one I was hoping for.
It’s been a few weeks now, and I’ve chatted to a few guys who have seemed normal, and a lot who haven’t, but … Richie’s somehow different than everyone else on here. He’s not in a rush. He’s not pushy. He might make suggestive jokes, but it doesn’t feel like an actual invitation.
He is a hockey player though. And if he plays for UVM, he definitely knows who my brother is. The number of times I’ve been used to get to Foster is way too high for me not to assume he’ll be the same. There’s nothing college hockey players love more than an in with the NHL.
I need to make sure Richie is in this for me before he finds out that little detail.
My stomach flips when I see his messages. I’m eager and excited to get them, but does that equate to sexual attraction? I don’t know.
@confused96: I learned a science joke today.
@scientistguy: Let’s hear it.
@confused96: Okay, but disclaimer, I’m shit at jokes so sorry in advance if I mess it up.
@scientistguy: Well, with an endorsement like that, I’m very interested.
@confused96: Did I mention it was a lame joke?
@scientistguy: Did I mention those are my favorite kind?
Richie seems to be typing for a while, and I’m not sure why him messaging me about some stupid joke has me smiling, but I can’t wipe the expression from my face.
@confused96: Did you hear oxygen went on a date with plutonium?
@scientistguy: …?
@confused96: It went OK.
I blink. Stare at the answer for a moment, trying to figure it out. O … K? Is that meant to be from the periodic table? What the hell does plutonium have to do with it though?
Before I can reply, a stream of messages starts to pop up.
@confused96: Wait.
Shit.
POTASSIUM.
Oxygen and POTASSIUM. They dated. It went okay.
I mean OK!!!!
**Face palm** I give up. Wanna see my dick?
My laugh bursts from me, and is it kind of adorable that he fucked the whole thing up? I’m thinking yes.
@confused96: So … how am I going with those cool points?
I smile at my screen.
@scientistguy: If it helps, you genuinely made me laugh. Which means joke successful, right?
@confused96: Except I’m pretty sure people are supposed to laugh with you. Not at you.
@scientistguy: Maybe you’re taking yourself too seriously.
@confused96: Even if I wanted to, trust me when I say that’s not possible. So what are you up to tonight? I just got back to campus after visiting family in Maine.
@scientistguy: Actually, I’m currently at a family thing. I better go before they assume I’ve shit myself.
I hit Send before my brain catches up with me and stare at what is possibly the least sexy sentence to ever word. I swear my eye twitches.
Okay, Seth. Time to go die now.
@scientistguy: And now I’m an embarrassed idiot. Strike that image from your brain immediately.
@confused96: I dunno, it’s cemented right in there.
@scientistguy: Is this the part where I face palm and offer you a pic of my junk?
@confused96: I mean, if it’ll help you sleep better tonight, I’m happy to make that sacrifice.
Cheeky asshole.
@scientistguy: Bye, Richie.
@confused96: Night, man who still refuses to give me his name.
I should give him my name, but I’m cautious. Richie already knows I’m doing my master’s at UVM, and it has in his profile he’s an undergrad there too. I don’t want randos from hookup apps tracking me down.
There’s something in the notion that if I give him my name, this becomes real, and I might not be ready to deal with that.
@scientistguy: You can call me Schrödinger.
@confused96: I don’t even know how to spell that. I might have to copy and paste.