Page 4 of Colossal
And beautiful.
“Should you be talking to me like that? Don’t you have a girlfriend?”
He makes a production out of turning and looking behind himself, as if someone might be standing there. There’s nothing but a wall. “Huh?Me?”
“No girlfriend, then?” I ask, sounding wistfully hopeful.
Why is he just staring at me like I have two heads?
“Uh…no. No girlfriend.”
I try to contain my smile, but it’s like someone has pulled my ripcord, my grin blasting open like a parachute. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he says slowly, still eyeing me. “Listen, do you like hockey?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen a game.”
His throat works with a big swallow and he wipes his palms on the thighs of his jeans. Is he nervous about something? “Do you want to come to my game tonight? Our game, I mean. Not just my game. There’s like a whole team. They would be laughing their asses off at me right now.”
“You want me to come to your game?”
“Very much. Yes.”
I sit there in a glowing bubbling for a few seconds, absorbing the fact that I’ve just been asked somewhere for the first time by a boy. Not really a boy, though, right? Much closer to a man. A man who thinks I’m beautiful and funny. My fantasy man come to life. But that bubble bursts quickly, because there is no way in heck I can say yes. “I wish I could, but…” I erase a word of my notes, just for something to do with my hands. “My father and stepmother are really strict. Hence, the homeschooling since my mother died. I’m shocked they’ve allowed me to attend a public school, even for five months.”
He processes that. “Are you eighteen?”
“Yes.”
“And they won’t let you out for a hockey game?”
I laugh to myself, even though my throat is pinched. “I doubt it.”
“You wouldn’t be alone, if that’s what worries them. I’ll be there.”
The rate of my heartbeat doubles. “Won’t you be playing?”
“I can do both. Guard the goal.” He glances briefly at my breasts, his gaze growing heavier as it lifts to my mouth and stays there. “Guard the girl.”
I squeeze my thighs together to fight off a sudden…pulse.
Where did that come from?
“All right, folks,” interrupts Ms. Geary, walking down the aisle and passing out what looks like a worksheet. “Complete this chapter review with your seat mate. It’s due at the end of class, so you better get moving.”
Ms. Geary slides the paper in front of me, and I smile my thanks, turning as much as possible to face Eric. His big body blocks me from scooting the worksheet into a place where we can both see it, though. In the end, there’s no other solution but to stand up and lean into him with my left elbow propped on the table, pencil in my right hand. My tummy is resting on the top of his left thigh, so securely that I can feel his muscles flex sharply when we make contact.
Everything inside of me comes to life.
My pulse accelerates, my skin prickling with static. My knees rub together without an official command from my brain, my bottom titling up, as if to tempt Eric. Something I have no experience with whatsoever. My body seems simply to take the lead.
In physics class.
Knock it off or you’re going to prove your stepmother right. That public school—heck, the world in general are giant dens of corruption.“Okay,” I murmur, trying not to notice the way Eric slowly turns his head, his attention drifting down my back to where my butt is perked up for his attention. There’s no one behind me or I couldn’t stand like this, thanks to my choice to wear a skirt today. But Eric shudders against me, as if he’s imagining the part of me that’s facing the wall. As if he’s imagining my tight, sparkly little panties that I wore to schooltoday in an act of secret rebellion. “The first question is about friction. And force.”
“Of course it is,” he says, sounding extra gruff.
“Define normal force. What is its relationship to friction?”
