Mess To Be Made

6

I opened Lindsay's car door abruptly and saw Rachel jump a little in the passenger seat from the sudden commotion.

"You're not going to believe this," I said, sliding into the backseat. I opened my mouth to speak, but was interrupted.

"Where have you been?" Rachel asked. "Lunch started twenty minutes ago."

"And why haven't you been answering your phone?" Lindsay chimed in.

"Señora Alfonso took it in second period, while I was texting you, for the whole fucking day," I explained.

"Is that why you were so moody in Anatomy this morning?" Rachel asked.

That's one reason. "Okay, rude."

"So," Lindsay cut in quickly, knowing Rachel and I would get into it if she didn't stop us now. "Care you share where you were for the past twenty minutes, Allison?"

I glared at her use of my full first name before reaching into my backpack to pull out the salad I had packed for lunch. Casually, I replied, "I was with Spencer."

Rachel immediately turned around in her seat to look at me. At least ten seconds passed with her staring me down, her eyes scanning my every feature until my upper body shrunk under her relentless inspection.

"Where did you guys do it?" she asked flatly before turning back around in her seat to stare out the windshield.

"What?" I immediately blurted, horrified at her question—but more horrified that she knew.

"You have sex hair, Allie."

My hands immediately went to my scalp, brushing my fingers frantically through the golden strands.

"Oh. My. God." Lindsay's jaw dropped as she now whipped around to witness me pulling a few knots out that I had missed earlier. "Are you serious?"

I struggled to come up with an excuse but came up short. My cheeks were red hot as I caved. "He got me hot and bothered in English, okay? I had a moment of weakness."

I wasn't lying. He really did have me itching with desire by the time the bell rang.

Despite what ended up being a very pleasurable experience, my initial reaction was less than thrilled.

I rolled my eyes at the folded piece of paper sitting in wait on my desk, glancing at Spencer next to me. He winked; a bold smile played on his lips. I reluctantly opened the paper.

Since you got your phone taken, I guess I gotta go old school. Writing you notes in class.

At the time, I hated it. I thought I hated texting. I thought I hated phone calls. But having him staring me down as I read each word, over and over while I tried to figure out how I was going to reply—yeah, that was way worse.

I grabbed my pen, uncapped it, but still couldn't figure out what to say.

After a few moments passed, Spencer sighed quietly in the back of his throat and grabbed the paper off my desk. I watched him scribble intently, before returning it to my desktop.

Stop biting your lip. You know it turns me on.

I couldn't help but smile. This I could respond to. This was my territory.

Oops...good thing there's a forty-minute break after this...

I was joking. Kind of.

He read my note and I saw him smirk. It quickly disappeared.

Will you answer my texts this time?