Jamie continued to stare. “But he did snort it.” “Yeah, Jamie, he did. I wasn’t too thrilled with that, but what could I do? And besides, he’s better now for it.” Jamie thought of both the Logans he’d known. His brother’s friend who came over and ate pizza and watched movies, or his brother’s friend who got drunk on the weekends, had wild, unprotected sex and won the respect of everyone he came in contact with just because of beautiful body and handsome face. “And then Owen took some, and then Brittany. Then your brother, and then that dumbass kid sells it now! That’s classic. Just classic!” Jamie’s mouth dropped open. “Brittany?” “Yeah, Jamie! It’s strong stuff! We didn’t foresee the girls who took it becoming cheerleaders, but it worked out better than we knew it would.” Jamie sat still for a second. “Coach?” “Yeah, Jamie?” “Why didn’t my mind change like everyone else’s?” “I’ll be flat honest with you, Jamie. It’s because you didn’t whack off to yourself soon enough after you took it. I’ve talked with the principal about this. Strange but true.”

“Yeah, strange but true.” Jamie stood up, his voice thickening. “I can’t believe you did this. I think you’re full of shit. But…” He trailed off, and rubbed his arms. “Thanks for my body. I guess I like it more than the old one.” The coach smirked, and Jamie realized what he’d said. “I mean…why did I say that? That was weird…” The coach stood up, as well. “Maybe you’ve changed more than you think you have, Jamie.”

Jamie didn’t say anything. He just stared at the man he now knew as Coach Barkley, and the coach stared back. Then he slammed the door shut.

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“Hiya Casey!” Patrick greeted Casey Black with a stinging slap on the back. “How’s it goin’?” One look at Casey would tell anyone it wasn’t going too well. His face was ashen and his posture drooped. It looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. “I feel like shit, Pat. I feel like shit.” “Speaking of shit…” Patrick’s voice lowered. “…how’s that stuff I gave you?” “Good shit, man. But I don’t feel any different.” “Whacked off yet?” “Uh, no?” “Your body wants some, man. You need to give it some.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Patrick smirked and clapped his hands on Casey’s thin little shoulders. “Oh, you’ll see.”

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Logan rolled out of bed at 2 PM, his alarm blaring. “Damn it.” He was so damn hot that he’d long since stopped being modest. He’d parade around his house buck naked, obscenely showcasing his amazing body. He walked to the bathroom and shut the door, then stared at himself in the mirror. The golden skin, the thick blond hair, the muscles! Oh, his muscles were so glorious. He and Owen would just have posedowns right in their rooms. When they went to USC in the fall, they were definitely going to call a modeling agency.

He ran some gel through his hair and rubbed his dick. He hadn’t gotten any last night, but that was okay. He needed the rest anyway. He was brushing his teeth when he heard his cell ringing in the bedroom. “Aw, fuck.”

He flipped it open. “Hey, Owen.” “Logan, Jamie’s gone batshit. He says he wants to meet us Barry’s. Something about crack.” “Fuck, man. I told Mal I’d meet her at the movies at seven.” “Dude, that’s five hours away. Get your ass over there.” “Fine, fine, I’ll fucking be there.” He flipped the phone shut and pulled out an old football jersey and some shorts. He’d liked to go commando when he was younger, but now his dick was so huge he had to wear underwear so that he didn’t look like a male hooker. He grabbed a pair of boxer briefs and got dressed, then drove to Barry’s in the Porsche.

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Owen walked into Barry’s and rubbed his jaw. Aw, shit, he hadn’t shaved. It had been three days and he was starting to look a little scruffy. Good thing Brittany liked the stubble.

Some geek was behind the Deli counter, but for some reason, he looked familiar to Owen. “Can I help you?”

Owen hesitated for a second and furrowed his symmetrical brows. “Do I know you?” The kid pointed to his nametag. “I’m Casey. You and I go to school together. You probably know my sister, Whitney.” “Oh, yeah, Whitney. She’s fuckin’ tight.” Casey managed a half-smile. “What can I get you?” Owen looked around and saw neither Logan or Jamie there yet, so he ordered just for himself. “You on the football team?” Casey didn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” he lied. Owen flashed his million-dollar smile. Even Casey, who considered himself very heterosexual, was amazed at how much sex appeal was packed into Owen. “’kay then. I’ll see you on Monday, I guess?” “Yeah, man. And here’s your sandwich.”

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Jamie walked in and saw Owen and Logan sitting in the corner, eating. Sons of bitches, eating without him, he thought. He admired them both, Logan looking fantastic even with a baggy football jersey and the tired, straight-outta-bed look. And Owen, with his tan skin and rippling muscles pushing through his plain white tee.

Logan waved him over, so Jamie took a seat. “Hey.” Owen managed a “hey” in mid-bite, and Logan sipped his beer. “It’s been a weird fuckin’ week for me, guys.” Jamie sprinkled a few profanities in his speech, just so. “I was just wondering…are you guys happy?” “That’s a weird fuckin’ question, dude.” Logan took another swig of beer. “Whaddya mean, ‘are we happy?’” “I guess…I dunno. With your life. You don’t remember your old one, do you?” Wow, that was a dumbass thing to say, Jamie thought. And sure enough, both Logan and Owen stared at him like he was crazy. “Our old life?” Owen asked. “What the fuck are you talking about?” “Never mind. Just, are you happy with your girlfriends, with football? Or do you wish for more?” “I’m fuckin’ happy, man!” Logan spoke, and Owen nodded along. “My girlfriend is a fucking model. I have a football scholarship to USC, I’m rich as hell…yeah, I don’t think life could be any better.” “I agree.” Owen took another bite of sandwich. Jamie sat there, looking deflated. “Maybe Coach was right,” he muttered. “You look bad, dude. Hey, Casey!” Logan hollered at the kid behind the counter. “Get Jamie a beer!” Casey brought out another beer and Jamie took a sip. Logan looked genuinely concerned. “Feel better?” “Not really.” “You need a good lay, man. You need a good fuck tonight!" Jamie smiled. “Thanks, Logan. Nice to know you have my back.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “No prob, dude. That’s what friends are for.”

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Casey walked into the employee bathroom, whipping off his apron on the way. His Barry’s Deli polo was so nerdy, tucked into his black jeans. He was so embarrassed that all the hot jocks had seen him like this.

He walked up to the urinal and unzipped his fly, reaching in to whip out his little, stubby dick. He took a leak and thought of Owen out there, his buff body straining to get out of his clothes. His hands rubbed his shaft slightly, and they felt soft to the touch. It was the first time he’d felt genuinely good since he’d taken that stuff.

He had long since finished peeing, but his shaft had gotten harder and longer than it had been before he started. He rubbed his palm against it, his head rolled back, and he moaned.

“Oh, you’ll see…” Patrick’s words floated through his head. Moreover, Patrick’s face floated through his head, that gorgeous face. They were all gorgeous. Owen, Logan, Patrick, Jamie, Scott…

He wanted to see.

Casey’s hands were gripping his cock now, and he stumbled backward, his back slamming into the dingy wall. “UUUUNNNGGGHHH…fuck, yeah…” They pumped and pulled, harder, faster. He dropped to his knees and ground his pelvis into the floor, squealing. He shut his eyes and gritted his teeth, roaring with deep, crazed laughter, as the sound of button bouncing across the floor reached his ears. Then, he heard fabric tearing, along with his own profanity-laden speech, punctuated with orgasmic moans. His legs kicked furiously, like a swimmer in a race, and chills ran up and down his spine.

He released too early, it had always been a problem of his. He lay on the floor, panting, not unlike Jamie had done in the school bathroom days earlier. The bathroom floor felt very comfortable, especially after his intense workout, and Casey drifted off to sleep right there. •