Freaks of Nature

9. The freaks are coming.

You know what awkward moment is? When you are dragged by someone so early in the morning in a room full of topless men you still feel like dreaming and you don't know what to do because it's so unexpected that it overwhelms you. There's six pack, eight pack, infinite pack and whatever pack is there. Holy shit. Everywhere I look, I see ABS. The Adored Beauty Spot. The holy temple that makes some girls drools.

You see, I thought college is all about going to class, acing your exams, making friends, and getting that diploma. Basically, they're on the mandatory list. No one told me abs sightseeing is mandatory. This is something I've never expected in my life. Ever. My eyes almost fall out of its sockets when I enter the gym. I don't know which is overwhelming, a shameless banana bird or a place full of men with the freaking abs. I think I'd rather not see the former and we'll see about the latter. It's not that I have a phobia or something with them, but mostly you could only see them on TV or magazines, so seeing them live with your own wide eyes? Totally explosive.

Kisses dragged me from my house all the way here. I mean not literally, but she didn't say where we are going and she could have warned me or something. Maybe a little red flag with abs in bold letters will do. She just said I'm going to love it. She meant to say she loves being surrounded by these impossibly mountainous stomachs.

I say a lot of the word abs isn't it? Because the point of my nonsense rant here is, I see a lot of abs!

"Kisses?" I call her as we make our way to the bleachers.

"Yeah?" She asks not looking at me. There are some guys waving and calling her. She must know a lot of them because she's waving back.

"Why are we here?" I ask still getting my eyes used to the view.

She shrugs. "Dean is here."

Hearing his name makes the butterflies in my stomach crazy because of last night but I control myself. "So?"

"We're going to watch. Don't worry, the abs don't bite," she says patting my knee when we sit on the bleachers.

I have the sudden urge to push her to the water. The pool must be deeper than the Marianas Trench. The abs doesn't bother me, at all. They don't. It's just overwhelming. I only knew about them on the catalog of Abercrombie & Fitch and I didn't know they really exist. Those guys looking like they won The Olympics just waving at you with their dazzling smiles and flaunting their bodies like trophies. Those guys looking like lifeguards that girls want to drown their selves on the Pacific Ocean and pretend they're dying so life guard goes to the rescue then bam, mouth to mouth contact and the chance of some abs grabbing moment. It's quite the picture, isn't it? I wonder if these guys have a competition on who has the most Guinness Book of World Records-worthy abs. Huh that's... kind of ridiculous.

I'm just making myself awkward. There's nothing wrong with this scenario. This is pretty normal when you're a swimmer who swims a lot (duh). But Kisses? SHE'S HOLDING A FREAKING BAG OF POPCORN.

"Seriously Kisses?" I give her an unbelieving look.

"What? I'm hungry," she says innocently then pops one into her mouth.

Oh my God, I can't believe her.

I shake my head and when I look ahead, my eyes locked on someone. I wish I also have a bag of popcorn on my hand. Jesus, did I just say that in my head?

Dean emerges from where must be the locker room and I think my jaw just dropped, like dropped one thousand feet below the earth. He's only wearing a swimming trunk and holy moly sweet popcorn, he's clearly not lacking in the stomach department and I don't know why my gaze is glued to his body and that I should only look up at his face. He's so--