Nothing Wrong With Being a Tomboy

Chapter 24: Fraidy-cat's Nods

He skidded across the shining basketball court and twirled around, dodging an angry Celtic warrior. Then, gracefully, he ran closer to its target, bouncing the ball with disciplined force. Smoothly and gloriously, he grasped the ball tighter and rose it up above his head to shoot it. And as I expected, the ball spiraled in the air all the way to its aim, until it rotated around the red ring, slowly yet victoriously dwindling inside.

“Pay!” I shouted practically on Tony’s ear as I jumped on top of the couch; just as me, the overexcited crowd cheered as Tony irritably hit the coffee table.

“Dang it!” he sighed.

“I told you Derrick Rose is the new Jordan,” I smugly stated as I held my palm out for him. “Now pay.”

“No way! That’s some stupid wannabe who would get injured if he keeps jumping around like a monkey,” he barked back, fishing out of his back pockets what was mine. “Here, twenty.”

I seized the bill and grinned at him. “Annyeong-haseyo!” said a squeaking voice. “Did I say it right, Nat?”

“Very good,” responded Skittles, as we heard some batter, “Now stir it good, Olivia.”

Tony and I snapped our sight to the kitchen, behind our couch, and smiled at each other when we saw them cooking some desserts. “She sure is a keeper, huh?” I whispered at him when I practically saw a drool on the corner of his smiling mouth.

Tony lagged to meet my studying eyes. He just nodded, sighing contented. “Oh, yes.”

Jealous, I sat back straight and started to devour the hot dogs set before us, as the game started. After some minutes, Tony joined me back and sat in his previous position. Though I was assessing the game and prognosticating what team will win, my ate up mind forced me to swallow those hot dogs, not caring if I was hungry or not. Hunger was my excuse, but I was actually swallowing thoughts of last night.

With every hot dog, came a thought of lust, kisses, tongues and I had to push those hot dogs—I mean, thoughts—away. Somehow.

“The hell, Riley? Poor Andrew, man, if you swallowed him like that,” Tony mused loudly while he shook his head.

Widening my eyes, as the scene was processed inside my brain; I spat my mouthful of wienerwurst outside. Soggy chunks were stuck at the screen, hiding the competing players as the chunks slithered down leisurely. “Tony what the heck?!”

Tony wrinkled his nose at the disgusting screen, then, he shot me a glance and shrugged. “What? Don’t lie to me, Riley, you’ve lived with him.”

“So? I haven’t even—,” I was going to say kiss, but that would be a total lie. And to be honest, we were getting at it last night. So…

Tony raised an eyebrow as a smirk skimmed across his lips. “Really now?”

“Shut up! You haven’t even got to second base with Skittles!”

“Of course, we have!” he shouted almost trying to believe it. Subsequently, he glanced back at an oblivious Skittles and then back at me, “Okay, we’re waiting for the right time.”

“You?” I gasped in disbelieve, “Tony Piazza is waiting for the right moment to make out with his woman?”

“Shut up!” he bellowed angrily as he tied my cranium with a headlock. “You’re such a chicken—whose mouth is so loose that it slips everything!”

Laughing out loud, I broke loose and grinned at him, “Tones, that doesn’t even make sense.”

“Yes, it does,” he argued, “It does when the man you love is so crazy about you he even wore a chicken costume to see you.”