My Mess

Chapter Fourteen: I Wont Hesitate To Suck Your Shlong, Nathaniel

[A/N so many of you were so nice about my last post 🥺 So supportive and because of that you really did make my day better. I'm so blessed to have such understanding readers and I really do love all of you. Like damn I'm attached to people via internet, but I'm okay with that! Anyways. Onto Cole being dumb ❤️ ]
Chapter Fourteen: I Won't Hesitate To Suck Your Schlong, Nathaniel
Cole's POV

"So..." I trailed in the slightly awkward silence. "What's, uh, what's your favorite pickle brand?" I asked, thumping my fingers against my thigh.

He glanced at me. "What?"

I rolled my eyes. "Ya know, pickle brand? Like what brand of pickles is your favorite? I personally don't like pickles, but it's a good conversation starter."

"I don't like pickles either, and I don't think it's any better than other conversation starters."

He turned his head to turn the car and I almost forgot how annoyingly attractive this guy is.

I hate men, why do they have to look so damn fine while turning a car.

"It's better than if I just asked what your favorite color was." I pointed out, "I mean, I also could've asked how big your dick was but I'm trying to be considerate for once in my life and not make you uncomfortable."

The corner of his lips tilted into a slow smile, "Well you technically made me uncomfortable when you gave me that book."

I groaned, "I didn't know it was that book!" I said, "My friend Brian gave it to me to give to you. I'm, obviously, a child of god so I don't read things like that."

"Obviously."

"Besides it's a good read, I mean, the sex scenes were really fucking hot. But if you ignored those it's still a great read." I grumbled crossing my arms. "You just can't appreciate fine literature."

I low key felt like a toddler being all grumpy, but I mean, the book was good! It really was, it maybe wasn't the most PG-13, but ya know... it was still good. Besides, if a twelve year old manage to get their hands on the book, hide the book form their parents and friends, and read it without dying, then they deserved to read it.

"I never gave you your book for the report. Do you really just plan to fail it?" He asked, giving me a side glance and I dramatically snapped my head to look out the window.

"Well yeah, why not?"

"Your grade's gonna go down majorly." His voice was now grumbly itself, as if the fucker was mad at me for keeping my grades down.

It totally is my fault for not trying, but I don't like school, we all die anyways, why should I waste four years of my life crying over a book report? Like what's it gonna matter in the long run? We all die eventually and you don't necessarily get to die while bathing in lavender incense with bath salts and rose petals while delving into your five million dollar book.

Unless you're one of those rich people.

"So what? I'll get it back up eventually." I shrugged.

He sighed as we pulled up to the fancy Mexican restaurant. "But don't your parents care? Aren't they hounding you?"

I leant back in my seat, "My dad stopped caring the day I turned in a five page essay to my art teacher about why I refused to even think about touching clay because I didn't like the texture."