“Is Garrett in there?” I bark. He looks startled to see me. “Yeah, but—” I bulldoze past him and grab the door handle. The guy protests from behind. “I don’t think you should go in th—” I burst into the locker room and— Penises! Sweet Jesus. Penises everywhere. Horror slams into me as I register what I’m seeing. Oh God. I’ve stumbled onto a penis convention. Big penises and small penises and fat penises and penis-shaped penises. It doesn’t matter which direction I move my head because everywhere I look I see penises. My mortified gasp draws the attention of every penis—er, guy, in the room.
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