My life was, is and will probably always be painfully average. I am the glistening standard of what it means to be normal. My grades, my looks, my jobs, my partners, everything, dead-center in the median of ordinary. Most of us are like that, at least that’s what Alex says.
Oh, Alex? He’s my best friend.
He’s attractive and cool and mysterious and says things that I’ve thought better than I could ever say them. See, I’ve always known my mediocrity and was trying to be ok with it. But Alex, he seems to think I’m capable of more. He’s my best friend and he’s anything but average. He’s also kind of a dick.