“You totally think Conner is cute, right?” Brandi asked. Right. She didn’t whisper it, even though he was only a lab table away. She was loud.
Conner chuckled. The girl in front of me turned around to wait for my answer. My cheeks were on fire with embarrassment. Them actually setting on fire would’ve been better because then I’d have a legitimate excuse to go running from the room.
“It’s okay,” the blonde in front of us said, sounding bored. “Everyone wants to do Conner.” She glanced at him. “Even some of the guys.”
I loved how this conversation was allowed to happen out loud. No educational interference. I glared toward the front, hoping for anything, even a detention, to deflect the question of whether I not I wanted to hump my neighbor.
Brandi leaned into me, twirling a long, dark curl around her finger. “He has a girlfriend, though,” she said in sad, wispy voice.
“And she’s a total bitch.”
“Yeah she is,” the blonde echoed.
I twitched my nose, less embarrassed, more disappointed. Covertly, with all the slyness of a kindergartener with a crush, I looked sideways at Conner. He was resting his face in his palm, leaning on the table and staring at me. When I met his eyes, he straightened up and grinned.
Girlfriend. So not good.