Chapter 8: "He's tabasco sauce hot!"

                                    

                                          
Chapter 8: "He's tabasco sauce hot!"
                          
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Why do I have to be a teenage girl? Why do I have to have hormones?
                          
"Oh my god!" Gwen grabs my arm. "He's shirtless and wet."
                          
Everyone is staring at Drake. He's wearing his football pants and no shirt, and he's sweating, so he dumps his bottle of water on himself and shakes his head.
                          
"Hey Parker!" a guy on the bench shouts. "You going to the party tonight? There's supposed to be a lot of sexy chicks there!"
                          
"No way man, I've got plans."
                          
"With who?"
                          
"Well she doesn't know it yet, but I've got plans with Ali." He explains. The game is over and we're not allowed off the football field for fifteen minutes because the bell is going ring.
                          
I'm staring at him, my jaw slack.
                          
Gwen and Mel are snickering.
                          
"I thought he wasn't hot."
                          
"I lied!" I blurt. "He's tabasco sauce hot!" I'm talking very loudly, and Drake looks at me with a giant smirk on his face. Mel and Gwen burst out laughing.
                          
"Excuse me." he says to the guy he walk talking to.
                          
And he walks over to the bleachers fence and puts both of his arms on the top of them. All of the girls are flipping out. "Hey cupcake, come here, will you?"
                          
Mel has to shove me to get me to stand up, wiping her tears of laughter.
                          
I go and stand in front of him, squatting down so our faces are level.
                          
"I'm tabasco sauce hot?" he smirks when my cheeks heat up. "Why can't we hang out tonight?"
                          
"Because my parents are out of town."
                          
"Which means you're on little sister duty." He sighs. "Will you be very pissed off if I attend a party tonight?"
                          
"I don't care."
                          
"No girls." He says. "I swear."
                          
"Okay." I whisper.
                          
"Well since I'm done with the game, you need to come down here."
                          
I stand up, and he climbs the fence and, taking me by complete surprise hooks his arm around my ass, and pulls. I gasp when I go falling forward, and he puts me down with ease in front of him.
                          
"Am I distracting you?"
                          
He's sweating still, and Trace hands him a water bottle and he takes a sip, and dumps the whole thing on his head.
                          
My jaw drops.
                          
He laughs, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.
                          
He's so damn sexy.
                          
"My lips don't taste like hot sauce." He says.
                          
"Uh...okay." I mumble. He laughs again and steps closer to me.
                          
"Do you want to check and make sure I'm telling the truth?"
                          
"Uh...I believe you."
                          
He smiles. "Okay then."
                          
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"Can I just say that I'm dating Trace, Drake is basically yours and Matt is falling all over you, and all three of our guys are at a wicked party and were stuck watching Netflix?" Mel grumbles.
                          
"I can't leave Haley." It's eight at night.
                          
As I say that, Haley walks in. "Can I sleep over at Emma's?"