STRAY KIDS.

XL. COOCH TALK

( STRAY KIDS! )
CHAPTER FORTY.
❝ cooch talk ❞

      
    IT'S ALMOST 4 AM and they're still talking. they've exhausted current events, graphic novels and the number of times mrs. doober in biology scratched her bum last period.

       "she's a serial scratcher."

"it's because she wears thongs," eli explains with a yawn.

"wow, not something i needed to know?"

"haven't you noticed she wears those super tight skirts but you can't see any underwear lining?"

"uh, maybe she goes commando."

"like, no underwear? jeez, parker, save some of this material for your spank bank."

"can we forget i said that? like, erase it from human existence?"

"no, no. mrs. doober's cooch deserves some fresh air."

"ugh, i'm gonna throw up."

"vaginas make you throw up?"

"no, just mrs. doober's."

"serves you right for keeping me up until dawn."

   he earnestly wants to say sorry, i guess we should go to bed now, but no one thinks straight at 4 am. no one has the presence of mind. he might be sleep–addled and a couple of other things. so instead,

"what are you wearing?"

eli snorts loudly, ". . . seriously?"

" . .yeah."

"just, like, a shirt and shorts."

"shorts?"

"yes. . . shorts. black shorts."

"how short?" he slips his arm under his head. he's definitely not thinking straight.

"uh. . . halfway to my knees." her voice is less confident now.

"that's a good length," he says stupidly. "you have nice legs."

"you haven't actually seen them."

"i can picture them," he murmurs sleepily.

"ookay, spider–creep."

"hey, it's spider–biden to you."

   she laughs, despite herself. "i'm hammered. we should get some rest."

"flash doesn't know your shorts," he murmurs as an afterthought. he falls asleep with her voice in his ear.

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