A week went by, a week where I barely saw him. During that brief time, my legend grew, my ego right along with it. The two seemed irrevocably tied together, a matching set. The press couldn’t get enough of me, made-up stories appearing everywhere. Some reported me an alien, others a rogue cop, a born-again criminal, a special agent. None hinted that I was a lowly teenager with acne and a back that would make a gorilla go mad with envy.
Then, on the seventh day, Craig texted me. That is to say, Craig sent me directions and a d**k pic. Said photo had been taken outside. I hadn’t a clue where he’d shot it. Not that I cared, really. I mean, all I saw was his gloriously beautiful wiener and a map showing me how to get to it. X, it seemed, marked the spot—or maybe make that XXX.
I took off lik
