Status Quo by Redhead16 MLM (book club suggestions TXT) 📖

Wolfe said. "Priscilla McQueen." Priscilla said. "All right. Good to meet you, Priscilla." Wolfe said. He turned around, showing an awesome behind and fresh back muscles. Maybe Health wasn't so bad at all. Maybe he would start talking about sex...which he did. "Okay, now sex doesn't necessarily mean love, which you all should know. But love does make it better." And his eyes settled on...Priscilla. She felt her breath stop. "I'll be honest with you. I didn't know what I was doing the first time. I was also fourteen years old, which is way too young. When my sister had her baby, she was fifteen years old, which is still too young. But that's just my belief, if it goes against your religion or anything, I mean no offense. If there's one thing I've learned with all the women I've slept with, it's that there's no turning back once you do it, and it's hard to deny having slept with someone, when you know in your heart it happened." Priscilla felt a little jealous when he mentioned women. The idea of him having affairs with other women made her extremely jealous, which surprised her.

He was supposed to be nothing more than eye-candy, or a flirtatious toy once in a while. Beneath his glasses and perfect lips, there was his chest. Muscled, gorgeous, ripped chest. She could tell that he was ripped because his shirt was incredibly tight. She realized that Austin was looking at her. He was red and looked really jealous. Priscilla realized that, one, she didn't think of Austin as her boyfriend anymore, two, this man in front of her felt like the real boyfriend, and three, she was in love.

Okay, so she knew flirting with teachers was technically illegal, but still. She took a piece of paper out and pretended to write what he was writing but she secretly made up a flirting plan. Yes. Every popular girl who wasn't a total kiss-ass to guys or who wasn't too shy to talk to them had a flirting plan and awesome lines and gestures and moves. Priscilla's closest guy friend, Mark, who was homosexual by the way, was the only guy who knew all her plans. Mark was also sitting beside her. He raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. Priscilla turned the corner of her paper up, which meant she'd tell him later. He turned back to his student teacher.

Zeke liked sweat. He absorbed it. He lived for it. He did a perfect mile run, which made half the girls a little jealous of him. 
 

He didn't care. He enjoyed the endorphins running through his veins. It was an incredible feeling. He wished he had less energy.

It was over soon. He used a towel to wipe his sweat off. He spotted some girls talking about him. They were pointing at him and laughing. He ignored them, doing his best to keep his middle finger at his side. He headed toward the locker room, preparing for a shower. He studied the almost empty locker room. One guy was getting out of the shower. He pulled his clothes out of his gym bag and went into a private room and closed the curtain.

Zeke put his own black clothes back on and his jewelry back on. Music pierced the air, 'We Are Prostitutes', obviously from the girls locker room. Who knew what they were doing in there? Probably dancing, he'd ask Emma, a girl who wasn't too close to but she could be a Trenchie Queen if she really wanted to. Plus she was pretty, a mix between Jessica Rabbit and Holli Would, but her hair was dyed black. She was really perfect. And Smart with a capital Intelligent. She could crack a code and memorize a complicated phrase better than anyone else in the school. She'd been offered a spot on the Academic Club, but she turned it down, explaining that she didn't join any clubs except for French Club and Writer's Club.

That was fine with Zeke, he didn't join any clubs either. And he didn't care about his future. He really didn't. He walked out of the boys' locker room and caught up with Emma.

"What the hell happened?" he asked.

"Some girls started dancing, twerking and booty popping to 'We Are Prostitutes'. So much perfume and hairspray got sprayed that some of us left early. It was the populars, of course. The slutty ones." she continued. Somehow, Zeke wanted her to stop talking.

 

Plans

Zeke let her talk a little more before he saw Sasha, coming from the library with an encyclopedia and a book in her arms. He felt his stomach leap, finding her even more attractive than usual. How could he get closer to her? She practically ignored him, and he was obsessed with her. He searched his own  brain for a way. She looked at him, smiled, and brushed by him. His heart stopped beating for ten seconds.

Imprint

Text: You may use quotes and sentences.
Publication Date: 11-27-2011

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To anyone who thinks they need to be in one specific clique. Trenchie : a creepy or suspicious man. (Dictionary definition)