Page 27 of Serenade Me

“Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m excited. I got my first ever strike!”

“Okay. Just checking.” He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with my answer.

“Well, thanks for checking, big bro. You can go back to your losing team now.” I give a wave of my hand, trying to shoo him off. I grab a hotdog, something with which to busy myself while I try to avoid his stare.

“Um, we’re beating you by like 5 gazillion points.”

“Well, then you don’t want to be here while I have a bottle of ketchup in my hand, do you?” I point it at him threateningly.

He gets up, but not before giving me one last pointed look.

But I can’t worry about him.

I’m too busy being worried about why my cheeks are flushed and my heart is racing and there’s a dampness at the nape of my neck and a warmth between my legs.

No, there’s nothing to worry about, it’s just the excitement, I tell myself again.

It’s not what I think it is.

About who I think it’s about.