Okay, you gotta be nice to him, " I say, coaxing the white fur-ball into my hands. "I will," Nate says, and I smile over my shoulder. "I was actually talking to Mr. Pippi. He's a bit of a butthole.
I knew it!" Cards fly everywhere, as if he had them hidden in his gym shorts.
So I'm not sure if its because we're in the honeymoon stage still or if I actually maybe sorta could be falling falling falling down down down in super amazing, all-out love with him. That's totally bonkers!
I've been checking you out since we were freshmen." " ?" "Do you even have to ask?" I laugh as a string of colorful handkerchiefs falls into my hand when I pull it from his pocket.
It's better than I imagined--and I imagined it a lot. Tucked away in a corner at school. On the track during gym class. In his car. On the street by my house. In a fancy restaurant. During dance class. In the cafeteria. Everywhere, really. But not a ...
