into her ear, brushing it with his lips.
Although such things had been placed far, far from her mind since—well, since her period began, Chloe felt the desire she had felt with Xavier rise up through her again. She turned her head so they were cheek to cheek, her lips against his jaw.
“We should go somewhere,” he whispered, kissing the tops of her cheeks over and over again.
“Janitor’s closet,” Chloe breathed, pointing.
They both broke for it. Unlike on TV, this one was filled with actual janitorial stuff—mops and buckets and bottles of cleanser—and there was no real room to stand. They looked at it, then at each other.
Chloe giggled. Unlike the time with Xavier, this was playful and fun. Alyec threw himself against the back of the closet so he would bear the brunt of their weight and pulled her in after him as she closed the door.
Everything was very close and warm. She could smell all the disparate aspects of Alyec: his cologne, the fabric softener on his clothes, his toothpaste, the shampoo or gel in his hair, his skin and his breath.
Also Lysol and Mr. Clean, but she tried not to think about that.
He put his hands around her face and kissed her full on the lips, the way she had been aching for Brian to do the other night. He didn’t stop, not even to breathe, feeling every comer and surface of her mouth with his own.
The way a girl should be kissed, was Chloe’s last coherent thought.
When they stumbled out into the bright light of the hallway later, it was, fortunately, still empty. Alyec had to clap his hand over her mouth once or twice when they were in the closet because she was giggling and making him giggle, too. But no one had come by. She pulled and adjusted her shirt.
“You are one sexy girl, Chloe King,” Alyec said, kissing her one last time on the cheek. “That was powerful stuff in there.”
She felt pretty sexy. But …
“Well, and now you can tell all your friends that. How you finally cornered Chloe King and you had the time of your life.” She smiled weakly.
Alyec frowned. “Do you really think I’m like that? Chloe, I was serious about Keira. She means nothing to me. And I’m not a complete dick.”
Chloe nodded. She hoped, of course. In nice-guy competitions Brian had him definitely beat. She reshouldered her bag and then realized Alyec was empty-handed.
“Where’s your flute?” she asked.
They looked back into the closet and saw the black case sticking out of a bucket.
Getting out of gym was easy—as soon as she and Alyec parted, she ran for the nurse’s office and made a big deal about how she was bleeding and this was her first period ever and she was cramping and had spent the whole time in the bathroom. The nurse was brusquely sympathetic and promised to speak to Mr. Parmalee before it was officially filed as a cut. She also recommended that Chloe get her gyn exam ASAP. Chloe agreed and left, limping a little as if she was still in pain.
She had texted Amy earlier about meeting for lunch—in the corner of the cafeteria near the pay phones. It wasn’t a desirable area, but at least they would be left alone. She planned on showing her the note. Maybe even telling her the truth about … Well, about what? Running really fast? Kissing Alyec in the closet? Whatever. Anyway, Amy loved mysteries—she had gone through a whole Harriet the Spy/Nancy Drew /Agatha Christie stage that had lasted a lot longer than those of most little boys and girls who were interested in being detectives. Even if she had no idea what to make of the note, at least it would be entertaining. After all, maybe the note wasn’t even meant for her. Maybe it was a mistake.
Chloe looked up and around the cafeteria, then at her watch. They only had twenty minutes for lunch today, and five of them were already gone. Amy hadn’t texted her back, but that didn’t mean anything. One of them always said “meet me here” and the other one just showed up. It had always been like that.
Although such things had been placed far, far from her mind since—well, since her period began, Chloe felt the desire she had felt with Xavier rise up through her again. She turned her head so they were cheek to cheek, her lips against his jaw.
“We should go somewhere,” he whispered, kissing the tops of her cheeks over and over again.
“Janitor’s closet,” Chloe breathed, pointing.
They both broke for it. Unlike on TV, this one was filled with actual janitorial stuff—mops and buckets and bottles of cleanser—and there was no real room to stand. They looked at it, then at each other.
Chloe giggled. Unlike the time with Xavier, this was playful and fun. Alyec threw himself against the back of the closet so he would bear the brunt of their weight and pulled her in after him as she closed the door.
Everything was very close and warm. She could smell all the disparate aspects of Alyec: his cologne, the fabric softener on his clothes, his toothpaste, the shampoo or gel in his hair, his skin and his breath.
Also Lysol and Mr. Clean, but she tried not to think about that.
He put his hands around her face and kissed her full on the lips, the way she had been aching for Brian to do the other night. He didn’t stop, not even to breathe, feeling every comer and surface of her mouth with his own.
The way a girl should be kissed, was Chloe’s last coherent thought.
When they stumbled out into the bright light of the hallway later, it was, fortunately, still empty. Alyec had to clap his hand over her mouth once or twice when they were in the closet because she was giggling and making him giggle, too. But no one had come by. She pulled and adjusted her shirt.
“You are one sexy girl, Chloe King,” Alyec said, kissing her one last time on the cheek. “That was powerful stuff in there.”
She felt pretty sexy. But …
“Well, and now you can tell all your friends that. How you finally cornered Chloe King and you had the time of your life.” She smiled weakly.
Alyec frowned. “Do you really think I’m like that? Chloe, I was serious about Keira. She means nothing to me. And I’m not a complete dick.”
Chloe nodded. She hoped, of course. In nice-guy competitions Brian had him definitely beat. She reshouldered her bag and then realized Alyec was empty-handed.
“Where’s your flute?” she asked.
They looked back into the closet and saw the black case sticking out of a bucket.
Getting out of gym was easy—as soon as she and Alyec parted, she ran for the nurse’s office and made a big deal about how she was bleeding and this was her first period ever and she was cramping and had spent the whole time in the bathroom. The nurse was brusquely sympathetic and promised to speak to Mr. Parmalee before it was officially filed as a cut. She also recommended that Chloe get her gyn exam ASAP. Chloe agreed and left, limping a little as if she was still in pain.
She had texted Amy earlier about meeting for lunch—in the corner of the cafeteria near the pay phones. It wasn’t a desirable area, but at least they would be left alone. She planned on showing her the note. Maybe even telling her the truth about … Well, about what? Running really fast? Kissing Alyec in the closet? Whatever. Anyway, Amy loved mysteries—she had gone through a whole Harriet the Spy/Nancy Drew /Agatha Christie stage that had lasted a lot longer than those of most little boys and girls who were interested in being detectives. Even if she had no idea what to make of the note, at least it would be entertaining. After all, maybe the note wasn’t even meant for her. Maybe it was a mistake.
Chloe looked up and around the cafeteria, then at her watch. They only had twenty minutes for lunch today, and five of them were already gone. Amy hadn’t texted her back, but that didn’t mean anything. One of them always said “meet me here” and the other one just showed up. It had always been like that.
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