Jet slept over my house the night before, and apparently, so did Nico. On my porch. She said she was hungry in the middle of the night, so she wandered around town and decided to stay at my house, but she got knocked out before she could reach the front door. I hold in my breath and tell her to go in the bathroom and take a shower. She pouts and tells me showers are for noobs.

"Nico, when was the last time you had a shower?"

Nico looks up and pouts, thinking. "Um, maybe Monday. Some jerk spilled oatmeal down my shirt—"

"That was you."

"Oh, yeah." Nico grins, remembering cold grains sliding down her breasts—OMG WTF AM I THINKING?!?!

I quickly turn my head away form her and push her towards my bathroom, pointedly looking away. "Shower, shower, shower! Your last shower was six days ago!"

Nico struggles against me, trying to grab onto the walls, screaming, "Stop pushing me! I don't wanna!"

"I know you don't want to. You can beat the hell out of me, but you have to take a shower." I lift her up and gently drop her in the shower as she claws my face. I quickly pry her fingers off me and turn on the water, taking the showerhead and aiming at her hair. She lets go of me, stunned, and I take the opportunity to grab some shampoo and massage it into her head.

"Bastard! I got soap in my eye!"

I frown and put the showerhead back into the hook in the wall. "Can you take the rest of the shower by yourself?"

Nico pouts and then grins mischievously. "If I can't, will you help me?"

I burn up red, so much I can feel my shirt on fire. "I'm leaving! Take your clothes off and finish your shower. I'll give you some clothes, okay?"

I'm thinking naughty thoughts. I need to wipe them out of my mind. Old people, my mom and dad having sex, people having sex with horses, horses having sex with themselves—Okay, I'm good.

Jet emerges from my bedroom with eye-crust and bed head. "Was that your girlfriend?"

I smile weakly and nod. I go inside the room and grab a loose t-shirt from my clothes, my boxers, and basketball shorts, and go to the bathroom and quickly toss the clothes into the room before Nico can say anything.

"She's really loud. What's she doing here at, like, nine in the morning?" Jet yawns. He walks to my kitchen, watching me make breakfast.

"She slept on my porch," I say tiredly.

Jet pouts. "That's …. weird."

I shrug and search through the cabinet for my bottle of vitamins. My mom's vitamins, aspirin, Tylenol, my dad's special vitamins, and finally mine.

"What are you looking for?" Jet asks me, grabbing an egg out of my refrigerator.

"My mom bought my dad and I vitamins. I've got regular kinds and my dad has, you know, the 'special' kind." I blindly grab for the orange-colored bottles that all look the same.

"Ew. Didn't need to know that," Jet shudders, grabbing a pan out of one of the cabinets. "Can I have one?" I give him a look. "Of your vitamins," he continues, rolling his eyes.

I nod my head and grab some salt out of the cabinet and pop open the top. I hand one to Jet and eat one myself.

"I tried giving Nico vitamins because sometimes she can go days without eating, but she only wants gummy vitamins. And she eats them all the minute we buy them," I mumble out loud.

"I think she's cute," Jet grins as he flips over an egg. I whip my head over to Jet, who's grinning like an idiot. Seeing my reaction, he stutters an excuse like "I also think you're cute."

I look at him and laugh. As I grab some bacon out of the refrigerator, I hear Nico's footsteps coming from the bathroom. I also hear drops of water hit the hardwood floor. Typical. She didn't take the effort to dry herself.

Nico emerges with my baggy clothes soaked with water. Her black wet hair drips and sticks to her face. She whips her hair away but it smacks her back in the face. She groans in despair and runs a hand through her hair while stretching. My clothes stick to her body, so slickly, I can see every curve, a little bit of her tummy as my clothes ride up—

I stick my head straight back into the refrigerator and cough, "Nico, please dry yourself. There are towels in the bathroom." I hear eggs sizzling, so I look up at Jet, staring at Nico, jaw dropped. WTF. You can't look at her like that, bitch. I kick Jet's shin and he chokes on his saliva. Maybe it's the look on my face that scares Jet back into cooking mode.

Yeah, it probably is.

"Yo, Toilet Paper, I took a bath. What more do you want?" Nico snorts, walking over to the table, leaving a wet trail behind her—Stop thinking that way!

I don't look at Nico and mumble a "Whatever, fine" and grab some orange juice from the fridge. Seriously. What's wrong with me? I don't usually think this way. These past couple of days, I've been sweating from just looking at Nico. My face burns, my jaw drops, and I drift off into dreamland, tingles running throughout my body. I feel disgusting, thinking this about her. This is Nico. She might not act like Holy Mary, but I'd like to treat her that way. I should think of her as a nun, like Mother Teresa. I'll just pretend she has habit and a shield of God around her, like if I touch her in any impure way, I shrivel up like roasted anchovies.

And the second I look up, grinning like an idiot, I see Nico leaning over the table, obvious she has no bra on. W. T. F. I drop the orange juice and scramble up the stairs and into my bedroom. I crawl into bed, hide under my covers, and hope that Nico doesn't come near me.

I hear a knock on my door and someone coming in. I hold my breath and pray that it isn't Nico.

"Something wrong?"

I let go a sigh of relief. It's Jet. I peer behind him from my bed, wary of Nico following him into my room. If she comes in, I'll freak out. I might, I dunno, become crazy. I might just HUG HER TO DEATH.

I need to stop this. I need, like, my heart to stop or something. Or something to slap me outta this perverted nonsense. I am not a pervert. Good guys like me don't think of their girlfriends who they think of as Mother Teresa with a shield of God around her, in a perverted manner. I am a man of God. I should be, like, a priest. With a girlfriend, but I could keep that quiet. I need to be, like, celibate. Not like I wasn't before. Are these what bad guys think about? I've never been a bad guy. I-I don't want to.

I leap out of my bed and look grimly at Jet. "Hit me—"

"What?" Jet asks hurriedly, staring at me like I'm insane. "Are you insane?"

"Hit me, Jet. C'mon!" I yell, my voice getting louder.

"No!"

"Do it!" I grab his wrist and stuff his fingers into a fist. I pull his arm a little too hard and he topples on top of me, hand on my chest, head near my neck. My other hand is holding his hand tightly away from the other. I need him to hit me. HIT ME.

"No!" he shouts, pulling his fist back. We shift so that, now, I'm on top, and he's on the bottom. Jet's curling his hand closer the side of his head, trying to hide it behind his neck, so I'm trying to grab that hand closer to my face, which gets my face unbelievably close to his. He keeps trying to reel his head back which gets his hips off the floor. My other hand tries to steady myself on top of him.

"I swear, if you don't do it right now, I'm gonna—"

OH SNAP.

Nico peers into the bedroom, wide-eyed, staring straight at our compromising position. CRAP.

I struggle to get off Jet, but for some stupid, coincidental reason, my belt is stuck on his pants. (Dammit, I knew I shouldn't have gotten it at L-Mart!) When I try to get up, our hips just bounce right back to each other, and we groan in pain.

Nico, however, thinks we groan in, you know, pleasure. Ew.

I stutter out a response, "I-It's not what it looks like! Nico!" as Jet shouts, "This is why we shouldn't do it!"

Nico just closes the door and walks out, shouting, "Freaks!"


I find Nico at lunch the next day. She's eating a pizza with apple sauce on it and a chocolate bar on it. She's also picking her eye boogers out.

"Nico, you gotta listen—what you saw wasn't—"

As Nico looks up, she flips her hair out of her face. As damaged and greasy as it is, it shimmers and all I can see are her sparkling eyes and smooth skin and pink, pink lips—

"What is it, Toilet Paper? 'Wasn't what I thought it was'? Whatever. Don't care. Give me some new news," Nico tells me dismissively.

I drop my shoulders in discontent. I'm still feeling this way. Staring at Nico, all I wanna do is grab her a-and—Dammit, Jet, couldn't you have hit me when I asked you too? OMO! Jet! I see the guy walking with Joe by his side, and I grab his arm and pull him in.

"N-Nico, look! Jet! He'll vouch for me!" I say hurriedly.

"W-what?" Jet asks, staring at me weirdly.

I cover my face with my hands and groan as I try not to peek at Nico between my fingers. It's not working. She has some pizza and apple sauce on her finger. She slips it between her lips and sucks it off—I grab onto Jet's arm quickly, like maybe he'll help me get out of her, b-but suddenly, it's alright. She's just Nico, right now.

I sigh in relief and take my hands off Jet. When I open my eyes, it's not just Nico anymore. WTF. It's Nico taking off her sweater in such a suggestive manner—OMG JET! I grab onto Jet again, and quickly, the blood rushes to the rest of my body. What's wrong with me?

I let go of Jet again, and I get horny. I grab onto Jet, and I'm normal. Horny, normal, horny, normal. Does Jet have this amazingly not-sexy pheromone that cancels out all the sexy around him? I let go of Jet, get horny for a second, until I latch onto Jet's arm.

WTF.

OMG.

Males terminate Nico's sexiness!

I need to go! I need to absorb this kind of news.

I smile and grin, arm tightly around Joe's shoulder. "C'mon, Joe, let's get class—"

"—but we haven't ate," Joe stutters as I drag him out of the cafeteria. I wave goodbye at Nico and she looks at me apathetically.


"You're going to practice, right?" Nico asks. She's stopped me in the hallway to the locker room. Yes, I could step around her, but her presence is so scary and sexy that that's not an option.

"Y-yeah," I mumble, keeping my head down.

"I'm coming with you!" Nico says, or more like shouts. It sounds more like an order or demand.

"N-no, it's alright! We're just gonna be doing starts or running around for fifteen minutes or s-stuff," goes my pathetic answer.

"Whatevs. I like to support the athleticism of 'starts' and 'running around' and 's-stuff'," she mocks. I almost crack a smile and look up, until—MY GOD, WHAT IS HER HAND DOING?

It's like a horror movie, camera focused on the long fingers gracefully intertwining with mine—No, no, no! I don't wanna die from horniness!

"Stop!" I shriek, whipping Nico's hand off of mine. It's not the most brilliant move because Nico's hand soars and whips her in the face. Gracefully, though. I give it a 10 points out of 10. Such a pretty hand hit such a sexy face—STOP!

"Ollie! What the f—" she starts until a teacher magically pops out of nowhere and scolds her with a wagging finger, "—is up with you?

I distract my eyes by watching Wagging Finger Teacher walk away and mumble out a pitiful answer like "Emy's cat died."

Nico kicks me in the stomach, "Bullshit. She said it was her dog."

As I'm doubling over in pain, I notice how close I am to her …. ah, um, bosom. It may not be very large, but it has a whole lot of power, enough power to haul me over to the other side of the hallway in search of a male. But WHY OH WHY is this hallway full of estrogen? As I claw my way through the crowd of XX's while Nico hunts me down, I finally find a male—Craig Smith.

He doesn't see me, so I just glomp him from behind. As scandalous as it sounds, it's really not. See, I aim to glomp him, but I end up glomping the floor next to him because he suddenly steps away. With Nico a mere ten steps away, I grab onto what I can, which happens to be his hairy leg and pull myself closer, as I see Nico's …. bosom closer and closer.

"Dude, what the f—" Craig starts to scream until Wagging Finger Teacher pops out of nowhere and scolds him with, what else, a wagging finger, "—are you doing? Faggot!"

Even with my masculinity severely shaking on the line, I still hold onto Craig's hairy leg. I try to get up while still touching Craig—Seriously? Are there any other guys in this hallway, except for Wagging Finger Teacher?—while trying to scamper behind Craig's body as Nico grabs at me.

"Yo!" Craig shouts as my hand accidentally grazes the part of his anatomy I really don't want to touch. Because of it, he grabs the collar of my shirt and pushes me against the locker. It's obviously not the best position to put a person you just called a 'faggot', but this is Craig Smith we're talking about. He wears Tweety Bird boxer briefs. Guffaw, guffaw.

"YAH! What're you doing to my boyfriend?" Nico yells. Then her foot comes from behind him and nails him right between the legs.

Craig flips out, grabbing his crotch, and doubling over, hissing, "Fuuuuuuck…." as I desperately look around as Nico's hands get closer to me, seeing if I'm harmed. It's like her chest is pulling my eyes to them. No, stop, bad thoughts! Bad Ollie!

A hand grabs at my sleeve and I'm pulled out of Nico's clutches. It's a very manly hand, and at first I think it's Craig coming to get me again, but omo, what's this? Joe? Talk about random coincidences!

"C'mon!" he yells and I follow, desperately clutching onto his hand. We must look like such a cute couple, frolicking in a frantic manner down the halls.

"OLLIE, I'M GONNA GET CHUUU!" Nico bellows from behind us. I can imagine a fire growing in the background and a wind machine blowing her hair in a devilish manner.

Joe and I frolic for about five minutes before we circle around the school and go back right where we started. Thankfully, Nico isn't there, just a group of tough basketball guys who aren't real big fans of track kids, so naturally, Joe's and my holding hands will not go well with them. We immediately drop our hands at the sight of them and rush into the locker room, ignoring their taunts.

I'm opening my locker when Joe tells me, "So you don't know why you're horny for Nico?"

I'm flabbergasted. "What?" I whisper scandalously. "How did you—?"

"Know? Well, assuming you and Nico haven't had sex yet, you're scared of your hormones because you keep looking at Nico's chest or her lips or some …. sexy part of her body. Then you started grabbing onto me and Jet, so I guessed that because you're nowhere near gay or even bisexual, testosterone cancels out your need for estrogen."

My jaw drops. "My God, it's like you're—"

"Psychic? No. Just analytical."

"Wow. Very—"

"Cool? Smart? Interesting? I wouldn't go that far," Joe laughs humbly.

"No," I say blankly, shaking my head. "Very Fiber-One cereal commercial."

Joe rolls his eyes and takes off his pants. My God, so blunt. I give him a "really?" look and he flashes me a smile, saying, "But I was right, huh? Your near boners during lunch aren't because you like hugging guys, but because you'd rather hug Nico?"

I bang my head against my locker and let out a cry of pain. I hit my head too hard. "Right. You're right. Don't talk about it. Just help me get through it or else I'll explode—" Joe snickers. "—in anger because I'm about to kill you!"

Joe runs around the locker room, pants-less, only in his boxers, as I chase him pretending to stab him. The big basketball guys—which include the dreaded Craig Smith—shout, "Faggot!" To salvage Joe's masculinity—because I'm completely fine with mine (i.e. my constant feeling up of guys)—I immediately muster up the harshest look I can and whip it at them, and they shut up, quickly diverting their eyes away from me.


The next day, I successfully avoid Nico, until I see her at lunch. Usually during lunch, she sits with us, but after two days of not taking a bath, Emy kicks her out of our table and I sit with her at an abandoned table in the corner. Yesterday, for obvious reasons, I didn't sit with her. But today, oh, today, she's sitting with my worst enemy—Charlie the Unicorn.

Just for clarification, that's not really his name. I actually don't know what the fuss is about with the name 'Charlie the Unicorn'. Jet made it up for him.

Nico is good friends with Charlie, but I hate him. He's devoted to Nico, always asking her out, even when I'm right next to her. But thankfully, Nico is clueless to his advances—

"Hey, Nico, wanna go out?"

"Sure, I could use a breath of fresh air. There's this disgusting smell around me anyway."

The only reason Charlie doesn't sit with us during lunch is because Jet, Joe, and Emy also share a raging dislike for Charlie. I don't know why they feel this way. I like to think they agree with me. Charlie's only a sophomore, so when us juniors gang up against him, he starts to get a little antsy, so that's why he doesn't sit with us.

But today, I'm a little more than ticked when I see Nico and Charlie sitting together, because instead of her regular pair of ten-times-worn-until-I-wash-them-myself-for-her jeans and her regular smiley-face t-shirt that usually has unknown stains on it, she's wearing a short-short mini-skirt, a tight low v-neck, and high heels that could probably reach my brain if she hit me with them.

Oh, hey, and I think she actually washed her hair.

She looks so beautiful right now, and I'm not even thinking it in a horny way. She's so beautiful. But her face, I can tell she doesn't like this. The way she tries take off her heels and warm up her cold legs and cover up her chest.

I grab Jet's hand—who now knows the situation—and drag him over to Nico and Charlie.

"What's going on here?" I demand. I shouldn't demand. It just gets Nico angry.

"What's going on over there?" Charlie asks, peering at Jet and my held hands.

I ignore him and ask Nico again what's going on. She doesn't look at me. She eats her fries so blasé I can almost taste it. Charlie rolls his eyes and tells me to look at my hand. I'm pretty stupid, so I ask Charlie what the heck he's talking about. Charlie looks over to Nico, and they share the stupid bond thing they have where they can just look each other in the eye and know what the other's talking about. Charlie looks at Nico, eyebrows raised, eyes tired. Nico drops her shoulders and sighs, rolling her eyes and looking away.

Charlie turns back to me, clearly annoyed. He stares at Jet and my held hands. "You're gay."

Most guys would yank their hands away from each other and freak out. I, however, clench onto Jet's hand, even as he's trying to get off of me.

"I. Am. Not. Gay!" Jet huffs out, kicking me in the leg. "Let go of me!"

I yank Jet's arm closer and stare him in the eye, muttering to him, "You know what will happen if I do."

Jet looks at me wildly and then his face turns sinister like some, some evil Joker! He grins and licks his lips. "Then I'll just tell."

My face drops, as do my hands from Jet's. But it's too late because Jet's mouth is opening and starting to form the word 'horny'. No! No, no, no, no! I'll be the laughing-stock—not just because I'm a horny loser, but because they'll think I'm some freak that doesn't get some. Which I am, but it's a secret!

So Jet gets out the first two letters—"Ho—"—before my fist collides with his face.


"Rub an egg on it," Joe tells Jet.

"Where'd you learn that? An anime? Friggin' otaku." Julian doesn't like anime. He thinks it demeans Asians because he thinks that's all people think we're good for.

Thankfully, no one at lunch saw what I did. Or maybe they did saw what happened, but everyone's too afraid of me to say anything. After I punched Jet, I picked him right up and threw him over my shoulder. (I seriously do not know where this strength comes from. Honest to God, the only sport I do is track, and if you saw our team, none have the strength to lift someone up with such ease. Maybe I'm God. Or maybe it's Maybelline.) Because I was holding Jet, who was passed out, I was able to look at Nico relatively easy.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I thought she might've been talking about Jet, but no, that's not like her. Instead, Nico stood up, grabbed her can of soda and threw it at my face before starting to walk away. I stumbled a bit, almost dropping Jet. I shook the soda out of my eye and stare at Charlie, helplessly. I was almost to the point of just collapsing from exhaustion. Charlie just looked at me amused walked away, following Nico.

I rushed Jet back to my lunch table, plopped him onto one of the hard tables while Emy and Joe started freaking out on me. WTF. My fist slipped. So what? We woke Jet up by hitting him again, and he made it through the rest of the day with the excuse that he fell down the stairs. No one questioned him.

So now here we are—Joe, Jet, Julian, and me, Ollie. I break alliterations, like I break your face.

Jet moans with pain. He's been fake-crying for ten minutes. I grab an egg out of my refrigerator, even though I know it's a bunch of bullcrap about making it feel better. I tell him, "Here. I'm still really sorry," and I give him the egg. I've been too upset today to even make excuses. I didn't even take my vitamins today. I'm such a mess.

Joe rolls his eyes and tells me, "You know, I'm a little tired of being used. So I told Nico. She understands—"

"OH NO, YOU DIDN'T!"

I didn't scream that. Jet did. I don't know why.

Joe looks at Jet incredulously. "You like being used?"

"It's not so much being used, but being loved," Jet snickers, rubbing the egg on his wound. Julian rolls his eyes in the background.

I cover my face with my hands and lean against the wall. "Why did you do that? Now she thinks I'm some horny freak!"

"So?" Joe rebuts. WTF is wrong wit chu, fool?!

I groan in frustration and cover my face in my hands. "You may not think Emy knowing you wanna screw her is bad, but I do! Nico is different from Emy! Emy is like … normal!"

Joe rubs his chin and holds his mug of coffee—I didn't make him any coffee, so WTF?—condescendingly and asks, "What is … normal?"

Jet laughs and Julian shakes his head, mumbling, "Shut up. Seriously. Do you even hear yourself?"

Joe ignores Julian—don't we all?—and rummages through my cabinets, telling me, "When I told Nico, she had this murderous glint in her eyes. I think it's either you or the guy who stole her pudding. I dunno."

The doorbell rings, and immediately, everyone's eyes shoot onto me. It has to be Nico. She must be freakin' pissed if she's ringing the doorbell. Most of the time, she'd break into my room, which is upstairs and we have no trees on our lawn, so it's a miraculous feat my parents always commend her on.

I slowly open the door a crack. She's still in her I'm-gonna-dress-hot-so-you-know-I'm-angry-at-you outfit. She slides her hand through the crack and slams it open. Dammit, she's still angry.

But still freakin' hot.

I start to scream Joe's name before I realize that he's a traitor, so I immediately call Jet's name, but then I remember that he's injured and by the time he gets to the door, I'll have already—okay, let's not think about that. Then I call Julian's name, but he just calls back, "No."

"Toilet Paper, you fucking dirtbag!" and Nico's arms grab at me, but I quickly step back, stumbling onto the ground. I frantically wave my arms and legs around, trying to block her hands, while still maintaining my idiotic good looks. "Stop moving!" but I still do. I finally grab onto a chair and stupidly, accidentally almost whack it into her face, but she quickly dodges it and keeps going at me. "Go ahead, hit me! See what happens!"

"Don't touch me!" I shriek, trying to inch away.

But she touches me. She grabs my shoulders and pulls me, hugging me, as I flail in her embrace. I start to cry, telling her to let go of me, but she does nothing but squeeze me tighter. I'm sobbing right now, mucus running down my face, and my face is buried in her chest. She runs her fingers through my hair and rubs my back as I whisper, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Ollie, your vitamins suck. They taste like shit," is Julian's voice, coming from the kitchen.

I quickly wipe away my tears to keep my manliness still in check and pry my arms away from Nico, clearing my throat and blinking rapidly. "What're you talking about?" I say, straightening myself out and avoiding everyone's eyes.

"Very manly, I see," Joe concurs, following Julian from the kitchen. He eyes my crappy-but-usually-very-good-looking face. STFU.

"Your vitamins taste like shit," Julian enunciates. I thank him for completely ignoring my very vulnerable state.

Nico grabs the vitamin jar from Julian's hands and downs a handful dry. She must like them because they're gummy bears. Thank God they're not lethal—

YO, WTF?!?!

"I haven't been taking these vitamins!" I shriek, grabbing the jar out of Nico's hands. The color drains out of my face. "I've been taking the wrong vitamins!"

Jet emerges from the kitchen, still rubbing the egg on his face, laughing, "You've been taking your dad's erection pills?!" Nico gasps, choking and spitting the gummy bears onto my white shirt. "Wait, WTF? I took the pills too!"

I run to the bathroom and throw up.


A/N: Found this chapter too! I don't know if I'll be able to write another chapter. I can't seem to remember how I wrote Nico. She is a very specific kind of character for me. I remember trying to write the next chapter, but it was such a blurry idea that was even too much CRACK for me. This chapter, right here, is the extent of my crack.