The swim team had a big meet tommorow, so they were hitting the water hard. Brent was in lane 3 and He was in lane 4. Ugh. His body was right in front of me. His Old Spice Cologne was stuck in my nostrils. His face was glued to my brain. Wait! Stop it Lisel. What are you doing? Stop thinking about his body, face, and smell. Oh lord, he’s getting out of the water.
“Hey, Red Hot. I really love the low-cut blouse.” He loves my clothes? Ugh, that’s so awesome. No, wait, stop! Stop everything, stop loving him!
“I really don’t care!” I was stern, why? I love him. No, no, I hate him! “Shouldn’t you be swimming?”
“I’m done. I’ve practiced the stroke I’m doing tommorrow and coach said I could sit out. Ya, I’m that good. Well, if you think about it, I’m good at a lot of things. Such as kissing.” Did he just wink at me.
“Ya, right, why don’t you show me.” Oh. My. God. Did I just say that? Oh god. You hate this guy, Lisel, remember!
“Okay” and with that, he planted one on me.