I don’t believe what I’m seeing.
Do you believe what I’m seeing?
I mean, I know Theo goes to the gym everyday with his mom, but this…this is umpossible. I hadn’t put two and two together when I’d seen his bodacious Asian calves earlier, hadn’t considered that someone built below the belt might also be built above as well. And now look at him, facepalming himself, standing there all unexpectedly shredded and delicious. I can only liken it to Ernie Reyes, Jr. baring rack at the end of Surf Ninjas: you suspect he’s got something going on underneath his shirt for the first three-quarters of the movie, but nothing can prepare you for when you actually see him topless. Theo’s a total Johnny! A shirtless Ned Flanders! A Son friggin’ Goten!
What the fuck kind of twisted alternate dimension have I uploaded into?
Whatever their problem was a moment ago, Summer and Lily have completely forgotten about me, and are now morphing into chibi versions of themselves. They float beside Theo, trailing bright red hearts in their cupcake-scented wakes.
“Hai, Theo!” they both coo in unison—even though they just said hello to him only moments ago.
Theo looks at me imploringly, mouths the words, “Help me.”
“Why the hell are you ripped?” I yell at him. “Jesus! You could grate cheese on those abs! In fact…” I trail off as something occurs to me. Spotting a small pile of Monterey Jack cubes beside the celery sticks, I dart over to the snack table, grab the cheese. Then, returning to Theo’s chiseled rack, I endeavor to make a point—
“Hey, stop that!” he yells, and slaps my hand away. “What’s the matter with you?” He brushes bits of Jack from his belly button.
“What’s the matter with me? What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing’s the matter with me!”
The girls continue to hover, moth-like. “Haaaiiii, Theo!”
“Oh, something’s the matter!” I exclaim. “Something’s very the matter!”
“Why are you so upset?” Theo asks.
“Look around you, junior! I’m surrounded by gorgeous jocks and jockettes, MILFs and DILFs! Everyone’s tight and pretty and handsome and smells nice and you’re supposed to be the nerd, the little geek-boy, the awkward to my flab—my chicken-wingman! Now I’m just the fat kid at a supermodel soiree!”
Theo tries to cover up nonchalantly, every bit of him flexing impressively for the awe-inspired girls, who’ve gone from two to four as gradually everyone in attendance drops what they’re doing in favor of basking in the glory of the little Adonis.
My brain can’t process this…this scene unfolding before me. It needs sugar—I need sugar. I gather my snacks from the table.
“Where are you going?” Theo asks, trying unsuccessfully to extricate himself from the gaggle of girls.
I dip my head into my armful and retrieve a madeleine with my mouth. Chewing loudly, I reply, “Sthwimming, bithes!”
I head for the pool.