The Making of Matt by Nicola Haken

watching porn, gay or otherwise, probably wasn’t the best experiment. It was already one of my favorite pastimes after all. The second my dick spotted that open laptop it knew what was expected of it and performed accordingly. I had to consider the idea that I really was attracted to him.
    To Alex.
    To a fucking guy .
    Maybe I needed something completely new to me, something I could concentrate on without being distracted by my own penis. That’s when I remembered Elle telling me about the kind of books she liked to read. It was the usual romance shit chicks like to read, only with two guys. It stuck in my mind because I remember thinking how weird it was that women got off on reading about gay men playing hide the corndog.
    After spending some time with my new best friend, Google, I discovered there were a shit load of different apps and devices you could use to read books. Yet again, I needed some help. I’d never seen Sawyer read anything longer than a text message in all the years I’d known him, and Jake struck me as the type to only read leather-bound hardbacks about ancient history or some other boring and serious crap. Mason was a reader, but he’d tell Ryder who in return would ask too many questions. So, scrolling through the contacts in my cell as I contemplated, my finger eventually landed on Elle.
     
    Me: Hey fuck bunny. How do I get books on my cell or my iPad?
    Elle: What kind of books? X
    Me: Books I can read, dumbfuck
     
    A pang of sadness twitched inside my heart as I hit send. My mom would’ve swatted me across the back of the head for calling a girl a dumbfuck. My insults weren’t tailored to suit individual requirements, however. I didn’t sugarcoat them for women or old people. If you’re being a cunt flap, I feel it’s my duty to society to call you out on it. Unless you’re six years old, in which case I might exchange cunt flap for moron.
    Sorry, Mom.
     
    Elle: I have a Kindle. Search Kindle on your app store. You’ll need an amazon account. X
    Me: Great. Thanks.
    Elle: I think you’ll like it. They have a huge selection of children’s titles on there ;-) x
    Me: Screw you. Maybe I want to read something classic and intellectual. Like Charles Dickenson.
    Elle: Dickens?
     
    Fuck. Surely I deserved some credit for even knowing who the guy was. Kind of. I was only two letters out.
     
    Me: Damn autocorrect
    Elle: Sure! How r u? x
     
    I’d discovered since my mom died that a simple ‘How are you?’ was actually code for ‘How are you coping?’
     
    Me: 6’2. Brunette. Ripped. Gigantic cock. Admit it, you’re touching yourself right now.
    Elle: Totally. I’m rubbing my arse. I have a pain in it that just won’t quit.
    Me: If u need any help with that, u know where I am
    Elle: Babe, I wouldn’t let u if I had both my arms amputated and u were the last person on earth. Gotta go. C u opening night. Love ya! X
     
    Ugh. I huffed as I tucked my cell into my pocket. I huffed a lot lately. The grand re-opening of Kaleidoscope was approaching and its manager hadn’t bothered to show up once.
    Fuck you, Alex Clark.
    Grabbing my iPad from the coffee table in the living room, I took it outside and sat at the pool-bar under the shade of the canopy. I rarely bought stuff online, always got other people to do it for me, so of course I’d forgotten my Amazon password. I reset it, then downloaded the app I needed.
    It took me a while, and a couple more texts to Elle, to figure out I couldn’t buy books directly from the app, and then once I was eventually faced with the search bar on the website, I realized I didn’t actually know what I was looking for. That was something I didn’t want to share with Elle, so I took a chance and typed ‘gay’ into the Kindle section of the online store.
    Fuck me sideways. There were hundreds, possibly even thousands, of books. My finger tapped away like a machine gun, clicking the ‘buy’ button one after the other for about three pages. Through the