Chapter 14

Thinking about Andrew and Corbin all sealed together on top of one another by my stuff made the task at hand a bit slower than it should have been.

“Cal. Come here,” I called when finally done, hoping he hadn’t been keeping time.

“Took you long enough.”

Damn my digital bedroom clock.

“Playing with yourself?”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish.”

I somewhat did, but I kept that to myself. I had gotten my dad’s barber shears from under the cupboard after hollering out, and was holding them in my hand by the time he entered. Dad used to give me haircuts in the summer, almost down to the scalp. Throughout the school year we had it done by a pro, but come June—buzzzzz—Dad took matters into his own hands.

“What are those for?” Cal asked.

“The good of the team.” I plugged them in and handed them over. “Take it off.”

“You want me to shave myself bald?”

“No. I want you to shave me.” I pulled my jacket and the heather-gray T-shirt beneath it up over my head without unzipping. “Everywhere.”