Freaks Like Us

Chapter 11

"You know, I think I'm going to ask Mom to start locking the door when we leave. We don't want any crazy neighbors to get in." He chuckles and shrugs out of his jacket.

My back hovers over the machine, and I hope he won't immediately go to it. My fingers are slipping over buttons, but I'm afraid I'll accidentally hit PLAY instead, so I don't push anything. "Um, I came through the window."

He shakes his head, letting his hair wave away from his eyes. He's laughing as he peeks outside. "Did you lose your pants?"

Gah! How could I forget I'm only in a sweatshirt and underwear? I want to act cool, like it's totally on purpose. I mean, I do that all the time! I prance around in much less, but I find myself grabbing his blanket and awkwardly wrapping it around me.

"Sorry," I mumble. "I forgot to put them on." Could things get any worse?

He pulls out a pair of jeans and tosses them at me, his face tomato red. "Well, wear these till you remember yours."

My jittery hands do not help as I pull up his pants, which are too big. I suck a breath through my teeth as the material scrapes against that darn sliver.

"Did you hurt yourself?" His amusement wipes from his voice, replaced with that worried look I still don't know why he gives me.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"You sure?"

"Just a splinter."

He gulps and for the first time I see his eyes flicker to my legs and stay there.

"You should really get it out before it gets infected." His voice and hands shake, and his face flushes so dark, steam would come off him if I poured water over his head.

Maybe my thighs aren't as thunderous as I thought. I smile, and let the jeans fall to the ground, stepping out of them gently while keeping my eyes locked on him.

"Will you help me?" My heart crashes around my chest. I've done the whole sexy, flirty thing millions of times, but I never meant it. I'm not using Sonic for anything. I just want him to find Freak Amy sexy. To totally treat me like I'm his own Princess Elise.

He closes his eyes and turns his back on me. I'm ready for a rejection, for him to tell me to go home, but instead he grabs a pair of tweezers from his desk and motions for me to sit on the bed.

He sits next to me, his eyes desperately trying not to look at my bare skin, but I know he has to. He knows he has to, but he's fighting it.

I should help him out, even though he's being so cute, and I like seeing him get all nervous because of me. The sliver is jammed into my inner thigh, high enough you can see my cute boy short underwear—good thing I didn't go with the thong today—but low enough he won't have to touch my crotch. I pull up the oversized sweatshirt so it reveals more of my attire, but I stick my leg out in such an unsexy way I'm sure he'll be able to control his shaking hands.

He laughs as I almost kick him in the face, and he moves to the floor, crouching so he can get a better look at the nasty thing.

"Ouch. I wouldn't call this much of a splinter. More of a twig."

I punch him in the shoulder. "Well, maybe you should consider sanding down your ledge."

"I didn't realize my neighbor would leap into my room in her underwear."

"Ha ha."

The cold tip of the tweezers hits my burning leg, and I cringe.

"Does it hurt?"