Tim knew how important it was to be serious because of his very important last name. He made sure to keep good grades, and tutored a lot to help others keep theirs up as well. He volunteered at many school functions, and even did work for organizations outside of school. Everything he did reflected on his family, a fact his father wouldn’t let him forget. But he was also exceptionally good looking, so people were predisposed to like him anyway.
Tim was in the locker room after gym. When he rounded a corner and saw his friend combing his damp hair in that small, magnetized mirror of his, Tim reached to his own waist, hooked his thumbs inside his track pants and underwear, then spun around, dropping them to his knees, and shouted, “Hey, Gary, look at my butthole!”