Mixed Signals

Chapter 3: So He's That Kind Of Boy

I rolled down the windows to my Mustang, and blasted some music. It felt so nice outside- the perfect Florida spring weather. I glanced out the window, to check the skies. They were clear cerulean blue. Great. There goes my chance of bad weather for swim to be cancelled. Don't get me wrong, I love swim. But it was more of a love/hate relationship, where I often complained more than I praised it. In 15 short minutes, I was coasting into the parking lot complex, searching for the mystery boy when it occurred to me that I had no idea what he looked like.

How the hell am I supposed to find someone Iv'e never met? I drive in front of the building, hoping to see some boy waiting. I rapidly scanned the front of the building for a boy, when I first caught sight of him.

A tall boy slouched on the wall, texting on his phone. He heard my tires screech and looked up. When he looked up, I swear I couldn't breathe.

He stared at me. I stared right back. He had gorgeous green-blue eyes that stood out above everything else. I could stare at him for a hundred years and never get tired of those eyes, I thought. He had sharp features and a beautiful jaw, and his long, messy hair was a darker brown and looked flawless without him trying. He was wearing a tank, and he definitely ad some jaw dropping muscles.

"Um, can we stop with the staring and get on with this whole stupid welcome thing?" His voice was deep and masculine, and made me want to hear anything he had to say with that voice of his. Shit! I noticed how I was gawking at him, about to drool, and quickly regained composure over myself. Damn hormones. He looked at me uncomfortably, and shoved his phone in his shorts. "Um, yeah, sorry..." I squeaked. I took a deep breath before saying, "Hi, I'm Ashlyn, and i'm in the senior group of swimming. I'm supposed to show you around, right?" I asked. He nods, and rakes a hand though his hair, raising his arm so I can see his bicep. Hot damn. I cleared my throat nervously. "Okay, just give me a minute so I can park". He shrugs, and I back up into the parking lot. I quickly park and grab my swim bag out of my car when coach comes out of the complex.

"Hello Ashlyn!" Coach Jen calls from the building. She's right next to Chris, waving to me. She must have seen Chris outside and come to tell me exactly how this welcome thing was supposed to go. I smile, and wave back. Coach Jen had been my coach for as long as I had been in Florida, since the age of 9. She was one of my favorite coaches, and she always had the best attitude about everything. She was short, with brown hair and muscular body. I shouldered my bag and was about to shut the trunk when she yelled, "Don't worry Ashlyn, you won't be needing that today!" Confused, I reluctantly slung it back in the trunk and shut it, and locked the car before jogging to Chris and Coach Jen. "What do you mean I won't need it?" I asked. My swim bag was essential to the sport, because it held my swim suit, cap, goggles, towel, extra change of clothes, equipment, and an overwhelming amount of sunscreen and hair ties.

Coach Jen chuckled and explained, "Today, you will be showing Chris around the complex. You won't have time to train with us. Just bring him to our weight room, dryland area, and everywhere else. Sorry about you having to miss training, but we rarely get new members, and...." She shrugs, trailing off.

"It's no problem, coach. It'll be fine." I smile, and she pats my shoulder. "Well, I'll be off then. I have to go coach." Turning to Chris, she says, "It was good meeting you, Chris. You will most defiantly prove to be valuable on the team! Go Turtles!" She laughs, and strolls away, leaving me standing awkwardly with Chris outside.

I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. "Well, what do you want to see first?" I asked, pulling my long sleeves over my wrists. He glances over at my hands, but not before I cover them. He shrugs, and says, "I don't care."

I groan. Seriously? You can at least try to make this less awkward than it already is. "Fine. we can go to the weight room first." He seems to perk up at the word "Weight room", and I can't help but wonder why. Probably because he lifts weights. "Do you lift weights?" I ask as I push the doors open to the building. "Yeah. Before I moved here, we had this amazing weight room. I used to go every day." He shoves his hands into his pockets. I try not to stare at his face up close, now that I was next to him. We pass a couple of girls that are wearing spandex booty shorts with sports bras, and they have no shame as the stare at him up and down hungrily, and turn to each other giggling. I roll my eyes and sigh, trying to ignore them and just keep walking. With my luck, when Chris goes to school, he'll fall for a couple of thots like that. I snap back into reality when I realize Chris is no longer next to me.

Where the fuck is he?!

I turn around and about have a heart attack.

Chris has one of the thots pressed up against the wall, one hand against the wall, the other on her ass. He's furiously making out with her in a sloppy way. She has her hands under his tank, no doubt feeling his whatever-number-amazing-pack he has.

"Excuse me?! Chris!"

He breaks off from the kiss, and sheepishly looks up at me, grinning.

"Get back here now. We haven't even gotten to the weight room." I'm absolutely fuming. I try to hide it, but i'm terrible at lying. I can feel my face getting red with embarrassment and anger. The girl laughs before slipping Chris her number and strutting away.

So he's that kind of boy.

I thought he would be different.

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Hey Guys!

I included a picture of our mystery boy, Chris.

What do you think of his character?

He's kinda a douche right now to be honest....

let me know what you think!

-Gaby