The Awesome Read Online Free PDF Page B

hoping he wouldn’t yell at me for touching his stuff without invitation.
    He didn’t. Instead he killed the lamp at his bedside and sat down on his mattress, smiling at me. Though his teeth glowed eerie white, it was better like this, less scary in the dark. Maybe he wouldn’t see that I was about to crap pickles all over his floor.
    “Everything’s awesomer with black light.”
    He slurred the sentence so badly I flinched. That didn’t stop me from approaching him, standing a foot and a half away from his bed. He extended a long arm to wrap his fingers around mine, pulling me between his splayed knees.
    “You’re cool, Meggie.”
    “... Maggie.”
    “S’what I said.”
    I wouldn’t argue with a drunk dude mainly because, well, he was drunk, but also because he pulled me in close. The nausea from the stairs returned tenfold. It wasn’t that he wasn’t cute, or that he smelled like he’d bathed in a vat of beer, though that wasn’t the most attractive thing in the world. It was that this thing that was happening, whatever it was, might be standard fare for him, but it was foreign to me. I had no idea what I was doing. Sure, I was good at a lot of stuff. How many girls my age could kill a dude with her bare hands in under fourteen seconds? That’s a skill, and one that’d get me places in life, but it didn’t help me here. All the combat training in the world couldn’t make being a normal teenager any easier.
    Megan Fox was full of crap.
    A hand crept around the back of my neck to pull me down. Ian’s hot breath brushed over my lips for a moment, and then I got kissed. My first kiss. I’d read horror stories about this in magazines; some guys had breath like a dragon, some guys used so much tongue it was like making out with a golden retriever. Though Ian tasted beery, he was sweet and gentle, not forceful or drooly in the slightest. In fact, there was no tongue at all at first, just this pleasant mouth massage type thing that got me pretty well acquainted with the bow in his upper lip. Eventually tongue got involved, yes, but it wasn’t a saliva fest. It was all... nice and stuff.
    I slid my hands over his shoulders and concentrated on kissing him back, letting my eyes flutter closed. I figured if he glanced up to see me staring at him like he’d grown a second head it’d be a mood killer, so I went with it. My copycat approach to making out must have done the trick—he made this weird grunty noise in the back of his throat, his fingers sliding from my neck to my back, and then to my butt. Lo and behold, I grunted back . Sad but true, pursuit of The Sex made me fall off the evolutionary train twelve stops too early.
    After a while he pulled away, swaying back and forth even though he sat. His breathing came hard, and I realized (much to my chagrin) mine did too. I’d liked it. In the vast scheme of my devirgining plan, I hadn’t counted on enjoying it. Courtship and foreplay hadn’t been considerations. It was a job, like a haunting or a boogie man eviction, and much like a haunting or a boogie man eviction, I dug the hell out of it, to the point I pulled off my shirt and threw it behind me. Screw it, this was a blast. If we stopped at the groping stage I was totally keen on going wherever the tingling took me.
    I don’t recall how I went from standing between his knees to on my back in his bed, but that’s where I landed. He kissed me again, his hands skimming from my shoulders to my bra and over my stomach. I clenched my gut muscles partially because it tickled, partially because I didn’t want him to find me all gelatinous and Stay Puft marshmallowy. He nosed at my cleavage, and then he giggled. Giggling from a 6’4” guy was bizarre, and I cracked an eye to determine what was so funny. Hopefully the sight of my partially clothed body wasn’t point-and-laugh worthy, but if it was, I’d pretend his dong was a piñata.
    “You’re all soft. It’s nice.”
    “... uhh. That’s good.