Welp. It's official.
The entire hockey team knows I'm a virgin.
And who do I have to thank for telling them about my v-card?
Theodore Taylor, aka my brother's best friend and the pain in my butt since third grade.
Then again, I'm kind of sick of this thing.
My virgin status, that is.
It's probably time I get rid of it.
Which would be a heck of a lot easier if Theo hadn't made it his mission to be my own personal chastity belt for the foreseeable future.
Which leaves me screwed.
In every way except the literal sense.