“... I was wearing my comfiest pair of schlumping shorts. They were a slightly faded blue, with tiny hedgehogs picked out on them in white. Oliver‘s T-shirt, which smelled of fabric softener and virtue, was long enough that it mostly covered the design, but it was a good thing I definitely didn‘t want to get it on with him because Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle—the hedgehog design, that‘s not what I call my penis—would have nuked my chances.”