At First Touch by Mattie Dunman Page B

myself and the other girls who were changing. I pulled on my public exercise outfit; at home I just wore shorts and a t-shirt, but in gym I had breathable stretch-leggings and a tightly fitting long-sleeved turtleneck made from the same material. The outfit was black with royal blue accents and fit me like a glove. Ignoring the curious looks I was getting from girls attired in short-shorts and tank tops, I pulled on the thin, flexible gloves that matched my ensemble. Pulling my hair up into a tight ponytail, I was ready.
    “What is with your outfit? Are you going into outer space or something?” I heard a nasal, blistering accent inquire. I turned around resignedly and wasn’t surprised to see Chasisity and Jennifer standing with their hands on their hips, looking tragically like the mean cheerleaders from “Bring It On.”
    “Nope,” I answered as I stuffed my clothes in the locker and slammed it shut. Without acknowledging the walking cruel girl clichés trying to catch my attention, I ambled out of the locker room and headed into the gym, only to collide with Preston, who looked suspiciously as though he were waiting outside the girls’ locker room for me.
    “Hey Preston,” I said and made to move past. He gripped my upper arm and held me back. I told myself that it would be wrong to kick his ass to next week and looked at him questioningly.
    “I thought you were taking the bus this morning.” His voice was like ice and his expression stony. I really didn’t like him.
    “Oh, I’m sure she missed it because she was out looking for the ugliest gym outfit in the world. Thank God she was able to find it,” Chasisity’s strident voice interrupted as she came up beside us. I’m sure she thought she was very witty.
    “Oh, Chasisity ,” I replied, saying her name with as much contempt as I could muster, “Some of us just aren’t as comfortable with showing cellulite as you are.” 
    I can be catty when the situation calls for it.
    She snorted and sailed on past, twitching her hips like she’d been stung by a bee.
    I smirked and returned my attention to Preston, who was eyeing me hungrily. “I ended up catching a ride with Carey. He wanted to tell me about what happened at the diner yesterday.”
    Preston’s eyes darkened and he opened his mouth to say something but I held up my hand.
    “Look, I appreciate your help in mentoring me yesterday, and I really appreciate the ride home. But you don’t know me, so you don’t have any reason to question anything I do. Now, I’d appreciate it if you’d get your hand off my arm.” If he thought his voice was cold, he changed his mind after hearing mine. He dropped my arm like it was hot and narrowed his eyes.
    “Fine. I was just trying to be friendly. I’m trying to look out for you. You’re not from around here, so you wouldn’t know, but Carey’s a real bad guy. I’d just hate to see a nice girl like you get hurt.”
    I nearly choked on his patronizing tone. With extreme effort I managed to swallow the vitriol I was dying to express to the little weasel and smiled unconcernedly.
    “Thanks for the warning. I’ll keep it in mind.” I moved away before he could say anything else and headed for the cluster of students waiting on the bleachers. Carey emerged from the boys’ locker room, wearing knee length basketball shorts and a sleeveless shirt that displayed his mouth-watering muscles. He caught my eye and grinned. I tripped over to him and we found a seat on the bleachers together.
     “I like your outfit,” Carey whispered shyly.
    I smiled, and was surprised once again at how comfortable I felt with this boy I had just met. Of course, I probably knew him better than anyone thanks to my ‘talent,’ but we had definitely forged a bond over the whole Fitz thing and there was a trust flowing between us I had never experienced before. I knew for a fact that no one had ever shared so grave a secret with him, and his intrinsic sense of honor and