I’d only been potentially attracted before, which is a much easier situation to be in. But then, just as things were escalating in just the right way, the hotometer started ringing louder than it had ever rung before.
Sometimes I wished I had a little device implanted in me that told me whether or not the men I passed every day found me attractive. That would have saved me a lot of rejection and wasted time, you know?
“Would you like to join us in a game of volleyball?” I looked up at the gangly teenagers before me. Both were tall and thin, and had kind brown eyes and shoulder-length straight brown hair. “I’m Alex and this is Greg,” one of them added, by way of introduction.
It wasn’t going to be easy. Since she was practically immobile and reliant on moving at the pace of a pack of turtles, this was going to take some serious work. Not to mention every time she made a movement in the blasted sleeping bag or tent, it made a terrible rustling sound that would wake the dead.