Masen Days Extras: Chapter 11

Chapter 11: The Day Masen and I Go Public

Excerpt . . .

This week is possibly the best week of school I’ve had since moving to Arizona. Masen and I keep our little secret by sneaking kisses between classes in empty hallways and under the bleachers. It’s all very teenage romance, and I’m loving every minute of it. Except for our moments in English.

English – while once my favorite class because Masen is in it – has now become a den of sexual thoughts, and Masen isn’t helping. Since showing me his notebook, he’s kept it an open book, so to speak. I’m able to read any poem at any time. Some are sad, some sweet, but most of all they’re sensual. He’s made it very clear that he’s not shy, in fact, he’s quite forward. I am too, so our flirting has gotten progressively more brazen, showcasing that fact that we both want one thing: each other. I don’t mind it one bit, but it’s very distracting.

He sits beside me, notebook under hand as usual, only now he keeps glancing at me with hooded eyes and a casual lick of his lips while he writes. If he keeps this up, I’ll be tempted to just throw him on our shared table and mount him – in front of everyone. I don’t care anymore who knows and who doesn’t.

I sit with my arms folded across my chest contemplating how I can get Masen to do something inappropriate in class. Of course I never would, but it’s fun to think about. And apparently I’m not the only one who thinks so . . .

Masen slides his notebook over to me, his finger pointing to a certain passage. I lean over, reading his words, “Red, ripe, waiting, my hands on her, smoothing down her shirt, finding skin, quenching my thirst.”

I pull my pencil from my hair and write a note to the side. “You’re a pervert. I like it!” I add a smiley face because I’m dumb. I slide it back over to him, and his eyes go wide. He covers his mouth with his hand, coughing to cover up a laugh.

He shakes his head and mouths, “Not that one,” then points to another note.

I scoot closer to him and lean forward to read. “Where’s my pen? Haven’t seen it for a while . . .”

I laugh through my nose and write back, “It’s in my underwear drawer.”

When I move out of the way, Masen reads it, then thumps his head down on the desk. I laugh and pat his back. Me too, buddy, me too.

Chapter Playlist . . .

Chapter Picteases . . . 

 

Masen's Notebook Entry . . .