Boycotting Blue

12/Blue

Blue

 

 

“Literally, they’re nothin’ but heuvos on your chest,” I argued, hands on the steering wheel as I glanced at Dylan. He was riding shotgun, ad Lou was in the backseat, quiet, as she studied for some test tomorrow.

   “No. If they were just balls on your chest, they couldn’t be so nice to touch.”

   Lou snorted. “Hey, for some people, that gets’em goin’.”

   Dylan paled. “That’s disgusting. I’d much rather be faced with the dilemma of  touching some nice, supple double D’s.”

   She wrinkled her nose. “Nah.”

    I arched an eyebrow. “How do you not like chichis? I’d play with them all day if I had a pair.”

   Dylan turned to face her, but still spoke to me. “If you say that boobs are nothing but huevos on your chest, then that means you play with your huevos because you said you’d play with your boobs.”

   “Touché,” Lou agreed.

    I grinned. “Dylan, unlike you, I have other people to play with them.”

    Dylan shot me a look. “Ignoring that. But, really, Lou, you don’t like boobs?”

    “I like my boobs. But, honestly, I’m not a fan of other people’s.” She closed her binder and placed it back in her backpack. “Can’t study at all with you two in here.”

    “It’s because I’m devilishly handsome,” Dylan remarked, turning around.

     I rolled my eyes. “You got the ‘devil’ part right anyway.”

    Again, he ignored me. Our friendship was like that. We were still amigos, but a different kind. I didn’t have guy friends before, so it was a weird adjustment. I had my hermanos, my gang brothers anyway, but they were a different kind of amigo. To have un amigo that actually wasn’t causing trouble with me or around me was nice. Even if Dylan did flirt with Lou.

   “So, Lou, how far have you gone with a guy?”

    “I haven’t,” she said easily. “Well, once I held hands and walked to school with one, so, about a mile. Maybe a bit more.”

    She hadn’t? “You’ve kissed one before, right?” I questioned.

    I saw the movement of her head shaking from left to right out the corner of my eyes. And it surprised me utterly, as I pulled up to a red light. How had she not been kissed? Lou was beautiful, and, even on her worse day, she was just slightly bonita. Chicos should’ve been lining up at her door.

   But then I thought about Lou herself. She was protective. And I realized it was probably her doing. She didn’t want it to go further.

   Well, just like the massage, I could get her to kiss me.

   I hid the smile off of my face and let Dylan do all the talking. “So, you’re still a virgin, too?”

    I had kind of figured that one already. She walked, talked, and acted like a virgin. It was the way she blushed when I used the English word for any genitalia. It was cute, though.

   She nodded. “No, Dylan, I just skipped the kiss and went straight for the sex,” she responded sarcastically. Her arms had crossed, a sure sign she was getting defensive.