#Chapter7
He claimed that he was a picture of perfection and it was all good. A roll of the eyes had been my response. Physically, Isaac was right. He was fit as a fiddle, having been involved in a lot of school sport, and he and Blake had some religious little gym routine. It meant that he had the kind of body that I had to use a pen to draw on abs, and filters to even come close to having, but just because he looked good, didn't mean that the stuff wasn't rotting his insides.
