Shut Up And Kiss Me (gxg)

5. Hot F*cking Thing

      SKYLAR SQUEALED.

      "She did that in front of the whole school," I said in disbelief. "She just . . ."

     "Came out to every single student and teacher all at once?" Skylar was practically bouncing, hyper. "Genius."

      The school speakers cut off, and we were left in silence. The girls in our gym class were still a little wide-eyed.

       Our teacher, a balding man in a neon-orange tracksuit, barked, "What are you waiting for? Five laps! Get going!"

       He seemed a little flustered.

       Skylar dragged me through the open door of the gymnasium, onto the field. The other girls were already speeding up into a jog, giggling. Figures. The boys' gym class was on the opposite end of the field, and they were peeling off their shirts.

      The sky was bright, the kind of silky blue that promised the end of summer.

       "Catch a look at that,"  Skylar whispered. "I didn't know Aaron was ripped."

       I hadn't been paying attention to the boys across the field, but―

       She was right. Aaron lifted the hem of his shirt, revealing carved ab muscles. It was probably from the football.

       I shrugged. "He's athletic."

       Monroe's clear, confident voice was still ringing in my ears. I like girls. Get over it. 

       Who had the fucking guts to announce that over the school announcements?

       And her piercing green eyes . . . this morning, the way she had slung one long, lean leg over the side of her motorcycle. The way she had shaken her black hair out of the helmet . . . 

       There was something hypnotic about that memory. Something attractive.

       Attractive?

       What?

      "But―" Skylar stopped jogging and grabbed my shoulders. "Hello? Earth to Talia? Don't you see that? Come on. I thought half-naked boys were your type. You certainly sing about them."

       "I don't sing about them," I said immediately. "I'm the drummer."

      "Same difference."

      "Tara is the singer, not me. And Hannah is the one who comes up with the lyrics."

      "Okay, whatever. Your band is boy-crazy either way. Unless . . ."

      "Why are you trailing off suggestively like that?"

      "Unless . . . you're not straight. Something you want to tell me? Because this morning, I swear to God you were staring at Monroe Kingston's ass."

       "Staring at Monroe's ass!" Shit. My face was turning red. "Are you―I wasn't―you―I―"

       "Ladies! You're far behind the other girls! Catch up!" 

       When I looked behind us, Coach Roberts was wheezing. His neon orange tracksuit reminded me of those traffic cones.

       Skylar was still staring me down, so I started running.

       "Come on! No time to talk!"

       I had gone two more laps when Skylar finally caught up to me, breathless, and said something that made me stop in my tracks.