For some reason, we started talking about who we would like to go out with, who was really hot, and who was ugly as hell. Typical teenage jabber. Sh... had never shown any interest in me that way, and I was always too self-conscious to make a move for fear of rejection. In actuality, that summer I had started to get really horny for Beverly, but I knew I was too much of a chicken-shit to do anything about it.It was about 10 o'clock when Beverly said she needed to head inside. So I said. “I’ve got my Number Three,” she said. “But you won’t like it.” “I thought that you were the Queen of Hot,” I teased. “Do you think something’s hot that’s not?” I expected some sassy response like I wasn’t refined enough to know it was hot, but she didn’t. “Writing,” she whispered. It sounded like she was a bit ashamed, which is strange because she’s never backwards about sharing sexy thoughts with me. “What? Like Christmas Cards?” I asked, trying to lighten the nervousness I heard in her voice.. More

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