12. Like a Virgin

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                                      There’s a Jock in My Bed!

                                             Chapter 12: Like a Virgin

                       Song of the Chapter: Like a Virgin by Madonna (1984)

“He’s a pest.”

“Yeah but he’s a good rapper.”

Snorting I adjust the singular earphone in my ear. “He’s alright.”

I hear as Alex snorts and he shifts upwards, making the top of our heads touch as we lie together in the grass at the park. He holds up his cream colored iPod to the sun, displaying a picture of the rapper in question. “This song is good, you have to admit.” I shrug. I have to admit it, it was good.

“Lil Wayne is just not the greatest; he’s not the SpongeBob to my Squarepants.” That snort makes its way into the air again.

“Maybe we should make it our song.” He says and sings “How to Love…” I raise my arm and smack in the face.

“Ow! That hurt. Jerk.”

I chuckle lightly and fold my arms over my chest, keeping my eyes to the sky. “Well, that’s for being stupid. If we’re going to have a song, it’s going to be sweet. Like a song from the 80s or 90s when music was great.”

He groans and face palms himself. “Great, you’re one of those people who think music sucks nowadays. Fine then, what do you have in mind?”

I remain quiet for a while. What song would be great? Hmmm. Maybe a Celine or a Mariah…

I sigh and he laughs. “What’s so funny?” I spit bitterly.

“You can’t think of any.”

“Well, you’re just as useless.”

“Maybe we can decide at the Night of Your Life drive-in.”

I sit up, letting the earphone fall out of my ear. “At the what?” he mimics my position and takes out the earplug.

“It’s an annual even where we take our significant others to this cliff not far out of town and we just…talk and stuff.”

Was it this the eighties?

I raise a curios eyebrow. At the final word of his sentence. “And Stuff?” I question. The boy only chuckles and rubs the back of his head nervously.

“Yeah, it’s where I lost my virginity so it’s a special place for me.  Well I have to get going, it’s almost four.” He stands up and offers me a hand. “Need a ride?”

I shake my head and look at my watch. “No, I’m going to chill here for a while.” He smiles and kisses me on a cheek. It’s like a silent goodbye when he does it and I can only sigh contently as I watch him walk away. He has this kind of swagger when he walks, almost like a bopping motion like he’s some sort of thug. I feel as I smile creeps on my face. Just thinking of him makes me feel warm inside.

I move over to the bench and sit down, watching the birds fly past.

“So.”

I jump nearly six feet off of the park bench when the voice sounds. “What the hell!” I screech peering at the culprit. “Mrs. Crawford?”

“No the Pope.” She mocks, placing her newspaper in her lap.

My breath is slowly coming back to its normal pace but I’m still breathing hard, just staring her. “What are you doing here?”

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