You call that a kiss?"
"Yep."
Okay, so I'm in shock the girl put my hand on her creamy cheek. Damn, you'd think I on drugs by the way my body reacted.
She had me totally under her spell a minute ago. Then the pretty witch turned my game around so she was the one with the upper hand. She surprised me, that's for sure. I laugh, deliberately calling attention to us because I know it's exactly what she doesn't want.
"Shh," Brittany says, hitting me on the shoulder to shut me up. When I laugh louder, she whacks my arm with the heavy chem book.
My bad arm.
I wince. "Ow!" The cut on my biceps feels like a million little bees are stinging it. She bites her Bobbi Brown Sandwash Petal'd frosted bottom lip, which in my opinion looks fine on her. Though I wouldn't mind seeing her in the Pink Blossom color, too.
"Did I hurt you?" she asks.
"Yes," I say through gritted teeth as I concentrate on her lip gloss instead of the pain.
"Good."
I lift my sleeve to examine my wound, which now {thanks to my chem partner} has blood trickling from one of the staples the doc at the free clinic put in it after the fight at the park with the Satin Hoods. Brittany's got a pretty good whack for someone who probably weighs a buck ten soaking wet.
She sucks in her breath and scoots away. "Oh my God! I didn't mean to hurt you, Alex. Really, I didn't. When you threatened to show me the scar, you lifted your left sleeve."
"I wasn't really gonna show you," I say. "I was fuckin' with you. It's okay," I tell her. Geez, you'd think the girl never saw red blood before. Then again, her blood probably runs blue.
"No, it's not okay," she insists while shaking her head. "Your stitches are bleeding."
"They're staples," I correct her, trying to lighten the mood. The girl is even whiter than she usually is. And she's breathing heavy, almost panting. If she passes out, I swear I'm losing the bet with Lucky. If she can't handle a little streak of my blood, how's she gonna handle having sex with me? Unless we're not naked, so she doesn't have to see my various scars. Or if it's dark, then she can pretend I'm someone white and rich. Fuck that, I want the lights on…I want to feel all of her against me and want her to know it's me she's with and not some other "Alex, are you okay?" Brittany asks, looking totally concerned.
Should I tell her I was spacing out while thinking about us having sex?
"Yep."
Okay, so I'm in shock the girl put my hand on her creamy cheek. Damn, you'd think I on drugs by the way my body reacted.
She had me totally under her spell a minute ago. Then the pretty witch turned my game around so she was the one with the upper hand. She surprised me, that's for sure. I laugh, deliberately calling attention to us because I know it's exactly what she doesn't want.
"Shh," Brittany says, hitting me on the shoulder to shut me up. When I laugh louder, she whacks my arm with the heavy chem book.
My bad arm.
I wince. "Ow!" The cut on my biceps feels like a million little bees are stinging it. She bites her Bobbi Brown Sandwash Petal'd frosted bottom lip, which in my opinion looks fine on her. Though I wouldn't mind seeing her in the Pink Blossom color, too.
"Did I hurt you?" she asks.
"Yes," I say through gritted teeth as I concentrate on her lip gloss instead of the pain.
"Good."
I lift my sleeve to examine my wound, which now {thanks to my chem partner} has blood trickling from one of the staples the doc at the free clinic put in it after the fight at the park with the Satin Hoods. Brittany's got a pretty good whack for someone who probably weighs a buck ten soaking wet.
She sucks in her breath and scoots away. "Oh my God! I didn't mean to hurt you, Alex. Really, I didn't. When you threatened to show me the scar, you lifted your left sleeve."
"I wasn't really gonna show you," I say. "I was fuckin' with you. It's okay," I tell her. Geez, you'd think the girl never saw red blood before. Then again, her blood probably runs blue.
"No, it's not okay," she insists while shaking her head. "Your stitches are bleeding."
"They're staples," I correct her, trying to lighten the mood. The girl is even whiter than she usually is. And she's breathing heavy, almost panting. If she passes out, I swear I'm losing the bet with Lucky. If she can't handle a little streak of my blood, how's she gonna handle having sex with me? Unless we're not naked, so she doesn't have to see my various scars. Or if it's dark, then she can pretend I'm someone white and rich. Fuck that, I want the lights on…I want to feel all of her against me and want her to know it's me she's with and not some other "Alex, are you okay?" Brittany asks, looking totally concerned.
Should I tell her I was spacing out while thinking about us having sex?
( Simone Elkeles )
[ Perfect Chemistry ]
www.QuoteSweet.com