Ancient History (South Rock High, #1)
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Read between September 7, 2022 - April 9, 2023
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“Did you two overlap at South Rock as students?” Aguilar asked. We overlapped a metric fuckton.
9%
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There was inherent loneliness in being gay. You had to face the world by yourself and slowly find allies.
12%
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He’d make an outstanding grandpa. He would have a brand new audience for all of his corny jokes.
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You’re not a fluke. You’re exactly who you need to be. I love watching wrestling, but I also loved listening to all the weird facts you’d spout.
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“I consider myself a hole-sexual.” I did the Mona Lisa of double takes. That was graphic, yet I supposed accurate? “Hole-sexual?” “Yeah. I’m all about the hole, dude. Doesn’t matter the gender. The hole is what matters most.”
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I’d bring handmade signs and brag to everyone in the audience that I was your boyfriend. When your team won, I’d jump up and scream FUCK YEAH.” “And then you’d get banned from attending all future quiz bowl tournaments.”
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“I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to sex,” Amos said. “For sex. Shit. Sorry.”
58%
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Less than ten minutes after Hutch told me he loved me (He LOVED me! No layover in Likeville.),
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I looked up at the window. Pure ecstasy waited for me in that window. Time to Romeo and Juliet the fuck out of this. Hutch hoisted me up, and I grabbed onto the first branch. Then the next. Then the next. His path seemed to be working. The branches were sturdy under my feet, and before I knew it, I was solidly above the ground. “Good work!” Hutch whisper-yelled up to me.
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He went to his nightstand, where he produced fresh lube and condoms. It was a Christmas miracle! He tossed the boxes my way. They were in their pretty, fresh packaging. Hello, friends. “I got these recently,” he said. “How recent?” “On my way home the night we blew each other.” “You got lube and condoms after we said we weren’t going to have sex with each other?” “What can I say? I’m an optimist.”
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He looked down at his chest, unimpressed. “I’ve let myself go. I’m not as ripped as I was in high school.” Hutch had an awfully peculiar understanding of the phrase “let myself go.” His muscular chest and arms were slightly rounder instead of cut glass, and a little layer of thickness lay over where there once were rock solid abs. I freaking loved it. He was like a weighted blanket I wanted to wrap myself in. Make no mistake, the guy was still sex on wheels.
65%
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I had sex last night. Really really good sex with Hutch. That happened. We said I love you. That also happened. I leaned against the threshold and let myself have one more dopey, wide-eyed, birds- chirping-like-I-was-a-Disney-princess smile.
67%
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He sat on my desk, which oozed cutesy sexiness. Yes, Amos was a mad scientist who was able to cross-pollinate cute and sexy into one look.
82%
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“Did they design bleachers to be as uncomfortable as possible, or is that a perk?” Everett adjusted himself with no luck. “You should’ve brought a pad,” Chase said. “I prefer tampons,” he deadpanned. “No. Seat pads.” Chase lifted his butt up and showed off the South Rock-branded seat cushion providing safe harbor for his tush.
84%
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If it makes you feel better, Laken’s going bald.” “It’s true.” Laken felt his diminishing hair. The girls at school had once gone buckwild for him because of that mane. “I’ll probably be bald in a few years.” “The good thing is that you’re already ugly, so it won’t be much of a difference.” Spiegelman broke into a laugh. Laken smacked him in the stomach.
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“We can photoshop Amos into the frame later.” I did the most doubly of double takes. “You know Photoshop?”
85%
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Do a Saturday Night Fever disco pose to go with your tux.”
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“I wish I could be there tonight and watch you dance with Amos.” “You want to watch us dance?” “Damn right. I want to see you two get the happy ending you never got in high school. I feel so grateful to have lived long enough that my gay son can go to the prom with the man he loves. There was a time when they wouldn’t allow gay men to even teach kids.” This guy. I was two seconds away from becoming a pile of tears.
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“Make it fast and furious. I want to come and be punctual.” So much for not being able to spit out a coherent thought. “One Vin Diesel, coming right up.”