Jess Pov
432 Words
Gabe glances at the clock, and nonchalantly asks “Where’s Aurora?” He swivels in his chair, with a calculated air of casualness, making sure she’s not coming up behind him.
I snort and wriggle my fingers at him, “Are you that afraid that she will lock you out of her closet?” Class is about to start, and it’s not like Rorie to be late. For anything.
“It’s not funny, Jess--her clothes are amazing!”
“Well, if she locks you out, you can always borrow mine.” Gabe cringes ever so slightly. “Hey! My clothes are kick ass, thank-you-very-much!”
“Jess, uh, I love leather as much as the next person… but hun, most of your clothes are super black, slinky, and tight in all of the right places, for you. Now, now—don’t pout! She may have clothes that are more glam than you, but you are a hell of a lot more fun! She’s all work and no play. And speaking of all work, what do you suppose has happened to our little workaholic perfectionist?”
I smirk and shrug as the teacher walks in. “WOW! When did we get someone who looks like that? Tall, dark, and --oh my! Damn yummy… “ s**t, did I say that out loud?
“I know, right?” Gabe grins.
Yes, yes I did. Can a girl kick herself in the ass and remain in a seated position without making a scene?
I lean in, hoping that Gabe is the only one who can hear: “So, I’m guessing this is the reason you picked this class?”
“Hey now,” Gabe has the dignity to look defensive, “there is nothing wrong with learning while there is something nice to look at.” He tips his head and winks.
“I think you could come up with better word than ‘nice’!” s**t, at least THAT was under my breath, I think. “Hmmm, I like your logic!” is what I said out loud.
Gabe nudges me with an elbow while taking in the view, of the new teacher “Why, you are learning!” the teacher said but thats all i caught i was to busy oogling him.’
There’s a loud gasp, and I am hit with an overwhelming feeling of dread. Hit with the force of a Mac truck. I try to leave my seat, and teeter to a standing position.Gabe reaches for me, “What’s wrong?”
“Rorie?” a croak, as I stagger toward the door.
- Writer
