The Senior Trip

Chapter 4

ASHER

She's cute. I never really noticed that before, but since we're so close, I can't help but see it. Her eyes are almost green, and the way her cheeks lift when she smiles makes it hard not to smile back. I think she's wearing some sort of lip gloss because the most amazing scent of sugar and vanilla keeps floating in my direction each time she rubs her lips together.

I fold back the page of my magazine so the quiz is showing. I didn't lie when I said I've never actually taken one of these, but I'm looking forward to it.

"OK. Question number one," I announce. "Wait, are we going to each answer it and then look to see if we are right?"

"Sure," she answers. "Just keep your hand covering the rest of the answers on the next page. No cheating."

I lift the page and cover the answers with my hand. "Done." The questions are in bold, red print. "Question one. Who fantasizes more during sex? Men or women?"

Harper bites her lip for the briefest of seconds, and I'm not going to lie, it captures my attention. I watch it spring free, and my thoughts scramble enough I have to look back at the question to remember it.

When I look back up, her brows are pulled together in deep thought. "Men, right? Don't guys love porn for that exact reason?" Oh, the innocence. I'm totally going to nail this test.

"No. We watch porn when we can't have sex with real women. When we are with real women, we watch them. No fantasizing," I tell her confidently.

"That can't be true," she says quietly as I lift the page and reveal the answer. "Damn it," she curses when I'm right.

"This might be the easiest test I've ever taken," I joke.

"Don't get too cocky yet." She rolls her eyes at me but also smiles.

"Alright. Ready for number two?" I ask, flipping the page back.

"Hit me with it," she says, her confidence restored.

"If not in the bedroom, where is the next most likely place that people will have sex?" I have to think about this for a minute. We are teens after all, and the bedroom in our parents' house is not always a possibility, so we tend to get creative.

"The kitchen?" She says it as if it's romantic somehow.

"The kitchen?" I ask with disgust. "Like with the food?" I look her in the eyes.

"Sure. Haven't you seen all those ads for couples making out on the counters? It's sweet. They will be making dinner and then the guy..."

"Have you ever had sex?" I ask rhetorically. "That's just an accident waiting to happen. And the counter..." I make a disgusted face, "you put your food on there!" I'm already shaking my head. "That better not be the answer. I'm going with car."

"Car?!" she practically screeches. "Like with the clear windows?" she lowers her voice and looks around, her cheeks turning slightly pink. "People could see you."

I chuckle. Does she not think people could see her getting it in on the kitchen counter? "It's like you aren't even a teenager," I tease. "Car. Who cares if someone saw?"

"Gross."

"But correct," I tell her as I reveal the answer. I can tell she's a little shocked, and something about her innocence or romanticism makes her seem ridiculously attractive. I tell myself to stop staring at her agape mouth and get back to the quiz.

"It's still gross," she says under her breath.

"You mean to tell me you've never had sex in a car?" I ask. I mean come on, she's been with her boyfriend for as long as I can remember. Maybe their parents are more chill than mine.

"No. I have not. And I won't ever." She's adamant. If she were mine, I'd want to make it happen so badly. It can be an excellent time to go parking somewhere and knowing it would be her first time in a car and she'd be worried about people seeing would only make it that much more fun.

"Bet," I say. She'll do it. I'll just never hear about it. "It's practically a teenage right of passage."

"It is not," she argues weakly. "Just read the next question."

I'm having fun with this. "OK, number three. What is the most popular sexual position?" I try to think of my favorites. So many to choose from.

"Missionary," she says wistfully.

I turn to her and tip my head, "Of course you would say that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asks. Angry Harper is cute too.

"You're such a romantic. Missionary so they can gaze into each other's eyes," I say in a sing-songy voice. I even bat my eyelashes.

She punches my arm. "Nothing is wrong with being romantic."

"And nothing is wrong with girl on top or from the back," I add confidently. There is no way missionary made the list.

I turn the page with all the fanfare of victory, only to find out she's right.

"Told you," she says, and for a second my brain almost pictures what that would look like with her. She's not just cute when she's gloating; she's sexy as hell. 

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