I look at the water, then back at Audrey. This girl is naked. This girl just asked me to get naked. This is literally my wildest dream. OK, maybe not my wildest dream. My wildest dream would be a tossup between the Becky Spade whack-off nightmare and the one where I'm making out with Jabba the Hutt and I'm wearing the gold bikini. But this is my dream-dream, the one I have when I'm awake. This is everything I've ever wanted since puberty. I've been thinking about this moment ever since I met Audrey.

But for some reason, I blurt out, "Hella burr."

"Huh?"

I toss my head toward the water and once again say, "Hella burr."

"As in cold?" Audrey asks.

"Yeah, that water looks pretty cold."

Audrey looks puzzled for a moment. For one thing, my comment is weird. But then again, sometimes I make weird comments when I'm nervous. She knows this about me. But what's really puzzling about my comment is that the water probably isn't all that cold, considering the fact that it's hot outside. Hot enough to go swimming. Then a knowing look crosses Audrey's face. 

"Is this a shrinkage thing?" Audrey asks.

"Huh?"

"Peter, I just spent the last ten minutes telling you about peens, and how they really don't matter. I mean, they matter. Obviously. But how peens are, you know, not as big of deal as boys think. And now you're worried about shrinkage?"

"Shrinkage?"

"You know. Cold water, and how it makes peens shrink."

But it's not shrinkage that I'm worried about. It's the fact that if I take off my pants, Audrey will see that I lied to her. She'll see that I have a baby carrot instead of a cucumber.

"Size doesn't matter, Peter."

Audrey steps around the car. She's naked. Really naked. One arm covers her boobs. And her other hand covers her pubic area. I drink in her naked body, and as I do, I feel an electric current buzzing around every inch of my skin. I feel dizzy, and I'm pretty sure I stopped breathing a couple of minutes ago.

Suddenly, Audrey closes the distance between us. She kisses me on the lips, and I kiss her back. A warm sensation smothers me from head to toe. Then I feel a piercing shock, like an alarm. I feel her hands around my waist.

"Let me help you get those pants off," she says.

I feel Audrey unbuttoning my jeans. Quickly, my pants are down around my ankles. My underwear is the only thing that stands between Audrey and the truth about my peen. I can feel her fingers inside my elastic waistband. Then all of a sudden, I feel something else.

It's my hand.

I grab Audrey's hand and push her away from my peen.

I step back.

Audrey looks surprised for a moment. Then she says, "I showed you mine, now you show me yours."

But I can't move.

I'm frozen.

And the longer I stand there, the more awkward it gets. Because Audrey is naked. She's naked for me. She's waiting for me. And all I can do is stand there with a three-inch bulging lie in my underwear. But then and a question pops into my head.

"Am I the eleventh peen?" I ask.

For a moment, Audrey doesn't respond. Then she nods.

"It's called Free The Peen. I named the project for you, Peter."

And that's when I know that Audrey knows the truth about my peen. She must know. She saw it on the internet like everyone else. But for some reason, fear I guess, I can't think of how to tell her the truth. I can't even show her the truth. All I want is to drop my pants and to dive into the water with Audrey. But I can't.

"Peter, are you all right?" she asks. "You're shaking."

Audrey moves closer to me. She wraps her arms around me, and I can feel her nakedness against my skin. She is warm, but I feel so cold.

"It's OK to be nervous," she says.

Then she kisses me. And the moment Audrey's lips touch mine, I feel an electric current shoot straight down my spine. It's a jolt, a powerful surge that rockets through my body. And for some reason, even though the girl of my dreams is standing right there in front of me, a scorching image of Martha Washington flashes in front of my eyes. 

Damn if Martha wasn't a fox.

With a shudder, I feel an eruption. It's a hot stream of lava. It's three days of desire and pent up sexual frustration streaming out of me. It's Martha Washington's boobs. It's Jabba the Hutt in a leather vest. It's my silver-haired math teacher, Mrs. Jacobs. It's the hairnets the cafeteria food servers wear. It's every glimpse of cleavage, every stolen glance at a cute girl's butt, every pair of ruby lips I've ever fantasized about kissing. It's all pooling inside my underwear.  

And all of a sudden, I feel embarrassed. I fantasized about this moment a million times, but never once did I consider that it would end like this. Even my worst fears ended with Audrey laughing at me, or walking away from me when she saw the truth about my peen. But I never considered the possibility that just seeing her naked, kissing her, would cause me to cream my underwear. 

But that's what happened. And if I could dig a hole right now, I'd crawl inside and disappear forever. Because what kind of a short-dick boy creams his pants at the sight of a pretty girl? 

This guy.

Suddenly, I see myself as a meme. A fail meme. I am in my underwear. I have a tiny three-inch bulge. Then the meme's next frame is a beautiful girl. And then it's back to the image of me. The puny bulge is gone, and all that remains is a wet spot. This is the endless loop of failure that runs through my head. This is all I'll ever be. 

Little Peter.

Little Peter, the poster boy for failure.

Little Peter forever.

Hashtag PLP.

Hashtag FML.

"Come on," Audrey says.

Her words are like a kind breeze that blows the fail meme loop out of my mind. She takes my hand and starts walking toward the water.

"It's normal," she says. "Now, let's get you cleaned up."

At the water line, Audrey kisses me on the lips. Then she leads me into the water. First our knees, then our hips, then our chests disappear into the dark blue water. In time, we are just two floating heads, bobbing in the water, stealing kisses.

For a while, neither one of us speaks. But eventually Audrey's hand finds mine.

"I saw the stuff on the internet about you," she says. 

"So you know the truth?" I ask.

"The truth?"

"That I don't have a big penis," I say.

Audrey shakes her head.

"That's not what I'd call the truth," she says. "What I was trying to tell you is that I named the project Free The Peen to free you from that awful meme. I mean, in a general sense, it's about freeing men from the narrow constraints of the patriarchy. But really, it was about freeing one special guy from the patriarchy."

"You did this all for me?"

"No," Audrey says. "My art is for me. But I was thinking of you. I was thinking that if I could show you and the rest of the school that dicks are just dicks, that they're not the mysterious end-all-be-all of man's worth that you'd see that size doesn't really matter."

"I'm not sure anyone saw it that way," I say. "A lot of people actually became more obsessed with dicks. Elroy has this whole theory about how high school is like The Hunger Games. And how we're all responsible for this awful system, but that we should judge ourselves based on how we respond to the system, even though most of us just go along without questioning how awful and cruel it is. Actually, it's Elroy's sister, Judy, who came up with the theory. And I might be getting it wrong, because it's been a while since I saw The Hunger Games. But the point is, I think, there are no good guys, and there are no bad guys. There's just this arena where we destroy each other because that's what humans have always done, and it's what humans will always do. Actually, now that I think about it. That's pretty bleak. But then again, so is high school."

Audrey thinks about what I've said, and I can see that she's turning something over in her head.

"Real talk" she says. "I never saw The Hunger Games. But I'll grant you that high school is a bleak, cruel place."

Then Audrey moves closer to me.

"Do you remember the ending to Breathless?" she asks.

"Sure," I say. "He said you make him want to puke. What's that mean, 'puke'?"

Audrey smiles.

"You really do remember it."

"Remember it, yes. Understand it? I'm still working on that."

Audrey wraps her arms around me, then her legs. I'm treading water, and she's coiled around.

"You're saying it's open to interpretation," I say. "Like all art, the meaning depends on the audience."

Audrey kisses me, and I know that I am right. Which is to say that I'm free to see her project however I like. I am the eleventh peen, but whether that's a good thing or a bad thing, depends entirely on me. 

And so I decide to tell Audrey everything. How my worst fears drove me to the brink. How I chased Elroy's snake oil. How I almost cut my dick off with a contraption that ought to be illegal. How I stuffed my pants with a cucumber because I thought she was a size queen.

It feels good to tell Audrey the truth. It's a relief, frankly. Audrey is a good listener. A kind listener. And when there is nothing but truth between us, Audrey takes me by the hand and leads me out of the water. 

"It'll be dark soon," Audrey says.

But for the moment, the fiery orange sun still hangs in the sky, pushing back against the darkness. Here, in the glowing twilight, I want Audrey to see me. So, I take one step back from Audrey. I hook my fingers into my elastic waistband. And I drop my underwear.

My eyes find Audrey's. I can see that she's looking at me, but I don't feel exposed. 

I feel good. 

I feel free. 

I feel excited.

"There we go," Audrey says.

Then she steps toward me, and takes my erection in her hand.

"You really thought this was all I cared about?" Audrey asks.

"I didn't know why you liked me," I say.

"Do you know now?" she asks.

I think for a second. Then I say, "Because I make you laugh."

"That's what I told you right from the start, Peter."

I kiss Audrey, and she kisses me back. My arms wrap around her waist. Her hand strokes my erection. She runs her other hand through my hair, fingers catching on the wet curls. 

Then Audrey pulls her lips away from mine, just an inch.

"You know," she says. "There's more to sex than dick."

Gently, Audrey guides my head down. 

Down past her neck...

Down past her boobs...

Down past her navel...

Down below her waist...

Then between her legs, into her sex...

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