Title: Locker Room Girl
Word Count: 5,671
Summary: Indulging in sexual fantasies and practically having an orgasm in
your open-plan office is an unwise thing to do. I'm not proud to
say that this has been an almost daily happening for the last
five weeks, all because of a girl at my gym who I haven't even spoken to.
I'm Bella Swan, and I think I'm in love.
"Hey, Bella! Hellooo… Earth to Bella… anybody in there? I asked you a question. Would you mind answering it sometime this century?"
I'm in the middle of an incredibly sexy daydream featuring the extremely hot girl at the gym, when Angela's voice behind my back harshly jerks me back to reality. My head is full of images of bronze velvety skin, black shoulder length hair, and dark almond-shaped eyes. In my mind I was just about to lick the erect nipple on that soft, full breast, and I realize I've been sitting by my desk at the office, staring into space with my mouth agape, my hands tightly clenched and pressed between my legs. I try to get rid of the aching throb in my crotch by pressing hard against my pubic bone, shifting my thighs uncomfortably and grinding against my seat. The only result I get from that is the frustration of almost, but not entirely, having an orgasm, and one very embarrassing and completely involuntary moan. Nice, but not exactly what I was aiming for.
Please tell me I didn't do that again…
My mind desperately tries to come up with an answer to the question I didn't hear in my heated daze. The only thing that pops into my head is total fail.
"Uhm… forty-two?" I say, because forty-two is known to be the ultimate answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe and everything.
I am seriously screwed up… Did I just say that out loud? DON'T PANIC! At least I know where my towel is. And, to defend myself, I was in deep thought… Oh my god, I can't stop! Well, as long as I keep my mouth shut I guess it is… mostly harmless. Shit. Shut up, brain!
I snicker at the random Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy references that pop into my head. Angela stares at me for a second before she bursts into laughter, and I shake my head and smile at her.
Yeah, I actually am screwed up. Indulging in sexual fantasies and practically having an orgasm in your open-plan office is an unwise thing to do. I'm not proud to say that this has been an almost daily happening for the last five weeks, all because of a girl at my gym who I haven't even spoken to. I sigh and try to put on a fairly composed facial expression before I turn my office chair around to face Angela. Angela is not only my co-worker and BFF, she's also the only one of my friends that is aware of my weakness for other women. Well, besides from my former fake, and, as it happens, gay, boyfriend Edward.
Edward, the poor guy, had no other option than to turn out gay. He grew up with a mother who put him in ballet class from a very young age and then taught him how to play the piano. He also has two sisters. His gorgeous older sister, Rosalie, has a very unladylike interest in cars. His tiny younger sister, Alice, has no interests but one: fashion. Edward spent his entire childhood playing dress-up to please Alice, and it's safe to say that it wasn't men's clothing he had to put on. I think when he got older he enjoyed it more than he would admit.
Edward and I were childhood friends, and since we spent every waking hour together, everybody assumed we were a couple. We didn't exactly correct them, hence the 'fake boyfriend' tag. It was way easier in the small town of Forks to pose as straight, than to be open about our sexual dispositions.
Nowadays, Edward is gay as a handbag full of rainbows and everybody in our circle of friends and family seems to be okay with it. I haven't been quite as forthcoming about my sexual preferences, so I thoroughly admire him for his courage. He's been dating Jasper for several years now, and they are currently trying to adopt, eager to start a family of their own. I've secretly made a vow to myself, that if it doesn't work out for them, I'll volunteer to be inseminated with, preferably, Edwards little swimmers. That would probably be my only option to be a mother anyway, so I guess it's about as good as it gets.
"I see you are making a habit out of stalking me in the middle of my pre-lunch contemplation sessions." I try my hardest to sound casual and witty, and apparently I fail miserably. Angela snorts loudly at me with one eyebrow raised so high it could mate with her hairline and make tiny furry babies.
"Yeah right, is that what they call it now? 'Contemplating'?" She makes air quotes. "Seriously, Bella. I'm hungry. It's time for lunch; get a hold of yourself already! It's my turn to pick a place, and I want sushi. We need to hurry before they run out of the good stuff."
I wink and smile at her, slip my sneakers on and grab my backpack before we hit the elevators. As I stumble out on the sidewalk, a strong wind takes a hold of my long brown hair, making it dance around my face. It's incredibly annoying. I fish out an elastic band from the pocket of my jeans and collect my unruly hair in a pony-tail. I look around, and lock eyes with a woman for a few seconds before she passes me.
Oh, she has nice eyes… Too much make-up though. So sad when they smudge them like that… The girl at the gym, she never wears make-up. She doesn't need any, she's beautiful anyway.
Angela blabbers on about friends, stupid-ass co-workers, and Ben. Of course. We couldn't go an entire day without talking about Ben, could we? I'm sure I know more about Ben and Angela's relationship than he does. I listen half-heartedly and scan the people we meet. Correction: I scan the women we meet. I couldn't care less about the men, actually. I haven't gotten properly laid since my last girlfriend, and that was well over six months ago. I think I may or may not be a little sexually frustrated. Make that a lot.
Ah, look at those beautiful breasts! I am a boob-woman, most definitely. The softness, the shape, the nipples… I love them. Don't particularly enjoy the really big ones, though. I feel like I'm at risk of drowning in them, like I can't breathe. No, I prefer the smaller ones. A handful is perfect. A nice, firm B-cup. Now, gym-girl has perfect breasts. They have the most delicious velvety bronze complexion and her nipples have a darker shade, like… like… milk chocolate or toffee. Lovely, just lovely.
I chip into Angela's monologue now and then, asking questions, making a few oh's and ah's. I've heard all of this before, so I pretty much know where she's going with it. I don't have the heart to remind her that she already told me this a few days ago. She has been so happy since she and Ben got together, and it's still kind of new to her. If I'm being honest, I kind of owe her. She's been happily listening, or at least pretending to listen, when I've been blabbering about girls for the last few years. My eyes keep wandering, noticing random things about random women.
Look at that… That outfit is kind of hot. The cargo pants and the white tank top remind me of the girl at the gym. She wore something like that last week… Oh, sushi place is here! Thank god, I'm hungry.
We order our makis, nigiris and temakis, and find our seats in a corner. Angela gets us two bowls of miso soup, and we sit quietly for a moment. She eyes me silently before she speaks.
"So… it's Thursday today, right?" Angela's got the interrogation voice going, and I know where this conversation is heading. She is fishing for information, and I'm not giving it to her right away. I love the frustrated look on her face when she's not getting the saucy stuff immediately.
"Um, 'So You Think You Can Dance' airs tonight?"
A slight twist under Angela's left eye tells me I'm on the right path.
Oh, this is going to be fun…
"And…?" Her voice has a strained ring to it.
I fiddle around with my chopsticks, taking great care in mixing wasabi and soy into a creamy sauce. I pick up a California roll and gaze at it before putting it in my mouth. Angela is tapping her fingers impatiently at the table, and I try hard not to laugh at her irritated facial expression. I look out the window and chew slowly and thoroughly before swallowing. I lick my lips and wipe them with the napkin to stall my answer a bit longer.
"And I need to buy more tea since I ran out of Earl Grey yesterday and I can't do another morning with that god-awful flowery perfume-scented shit you gave me for Christmas?"
"Well, I thank thee for that interesting information, but don't you think you can come up with something more… entertaining?" Angela is talking through her teeth with her jaws tightly clenched.
Yes. This is fun!
"Well, I do have one entertaining incident to share with you. As a matter of fact, when I went to the toilet this morning, I…"
"Oh crap. Shut the fuck up, Bella! I do not want to hear about your toilet habits! You know what I want!" She almost yells at me now. I know I won't be able to push this much further, but I still have a few more minutes to play before she goes all Angela Webber frantic on me.
I look at her with innocent and inquiring eyes.
"No, Angela. I don't. Please enlighten me."
She pushes her bowl of miso soup aside and bangs her forehead repeatedly against the table.
She moans between the dull thumps of her head against the hard wood. Sushi guy stares at her with wide eyes. She smiles angelically at him when she notices his concerned look.
"Sorry, just having a bit of a nervous breakdown over here, nothing to worry about," she tells him, trying to smooth her little tantrum over.
I snort loudly and decide to put her out of her misery. I need to talk to her about this anyway, so I better just get it over with.
"It was fun, though, wouldn't you say? You are cute when you are agitated." I smile at Angela and pat her rosy cheeks before I continue.
"It is Thursday, which means gym day."
Which also means I get the opportunity to ogle the world's most beautiful woman - both in her training clothes and naked in the locker room. It is by far the best day of the week. It is also the worst, because the sexual frustration and need that stems from this event will give me tendonitis and wear the batteries in my vibrator out.
"Okay, Swan. Spill it. What is it about Thursdays? You are seriously weird on those days."
I sigh. Angela knows there is something going on every Thursday, she knows me well enough to have figured that out. I don't know if it's the "I've been up all night masturbating" look on my face every Friday, or the fact that I get more and more tense for every day during the week, culminating on Thursday. I also tend to zone out more than usual on Thursdays. Sexual fantasy zone out, that is.
"Okay. There is this girl at my gym. She is the hottest creature I've ever seen and I've been walking around constantly horny for the last five weeks. I have no idea what to do about it. So far I'm just ogling her."
A pleased look spreads across Angela's face, and she hums encouragingly. I can almost see the wheels turning inside of her head.
"So, tell me more about her. What's her name? What does she look like? Is she gay?" Angela is firing questions at me like an annoying gossip reporter.
"I don't even know her name. How lame is that? It's like I'm this teenager all of a sudden, having a crush on someone I don't even know. That's so pre-pubescent it's embarrassing."
"And you don't know if she's gay, either?"
"Angela, my gaydar sucks and you know it."
My gaydar really does suck. I'm totally incompetent at lesbian spotting. The only girls I've dated have been total butches, because they are the easiest to find and they also seem to like me. The thing is, I'm not that into butch. I'm not into lipstick lesbians either; I just want the regular, modestly girly, kind of woman.
"You are totally right. My gaydar is better than yours, and I'm straight. Okay, let's be scientific about it. What signs do you see?"
"Well… she is kind of feminine looking, not obviously butch or anything like that. And she's really pretty. She doesn't wear high heels, at least not when I see her. She wears sneakers."
"Good sign. What kind of pants?" Angela leans forward, focusing on my words.
"Uhm… jeans mostly. Not the baggy ones, though. But she had cargo pants last week."
"Right. Tight jeans, not entirely a gay thing. Cargo pants, more so." She nods, pouts and taps her lips.
"What about the top?"
"Tank top or tees with cool designs on." I smile as I remember the one she wore the first time I saw her, a grey 'The Clash' tee, obviously vintage.
"That's good. No blouses or pretty lacy stuff then?" Angela asks.
I shake my head and smile, the image of the possibly gay beauty floating my mind.
"Okay, what else… hair, long or short?"
"Not short, but not that long either. It ends somewhere between her earlobes and her shoulders. And she never wears bows or hair clips; she just tucks it behind her ears. Oh, and one more thing… her fingernails are short. That's good, right? I mean, who wants to be fingered by long nails… Ouch."
"Bella! I did not need that picture. I guess you're right though, short fingernails are better. Good job there Bella, you're learning. Any other signs? Piercings, tattoos, necklaces or key chains, anything?"
"Yeah, she does have a tattoo…" I close my eyes and conjure up the design in my mind.
"How is it placed? Is it a tramp stamp, or is it on her belly, or her arm, leg, shoulder…?"
"It's some kind of tribal tattoo - fairly large and sort of round. She has it on the upper part of the arm. She doesn't wear any jewellery. She only has a small silver axe in a leather strap around her neck. It's kind of hot, actually."
"Seriously, an axe? Is it a double-bladed axe?"
"I think so, I haven't really noticed. Why, is that a good sign?" I feel at total loss with all these possibly gay attributes that I'm supposed to be able to understand. I need to take a course or something.
"Sweetie, you are good to go. There is a really good chance she's swinging for the other team."
Angela pats my back and nods approvingly.
"Seriously, how do you know this much about lesbians? It's not fair, you don't even benefit from it." I pout.
"Well, I have a butch cousin who has taught me a thing or two. And I don't need to benefit from it, I do it all for you, honey."
We finish up our lunch and head back, stopping by the grocery store on the way. I love sushi, but it won't keep me satisfied for long. I'll be hungry like a wolf later, and that's not a good thing when you are going to the gym. I need a real meal to keep me going through the work-out.
The entire afternoon is dragging. I'm watching the clock almost constantly, and I swear it is going backwards when I look away. I want to go to the gym; I need to see the gym-girl again. The zoning out issue is worse than usual, and today it is mixed with a weird fear that she won't be there. When work is over I holler good bye to Angela and run out.
After a sturdy meal consisting of meat, vegetables and beans, I'm ready to pack my gym bag and go. I search the entire apartment for a clean tee and my training shorts, only to discover that my beloved but annoying cat has been sleeping on them all day. My black training shorts are now my furry red training shorts.
Fuck. I will not have a furry ass when I go training. I need to get rid of this freaking hair.
Shit. What if she's allergic? Damned you, stupid, ugly son of a… she-cat.
Oh. That does not sound nearly as good as "son of a bitch."
I try furiously to get the hair off, and when it's finally time to leave I'm so wound up I could probably snap at nothing. It's not until I enter the gym that I start to feel comfortable. I'm still nervous, but I'm not ready to burst anymore. My training session usually starts a little earlier than hers, and most of the times I'm done warming up on the treadmill when she arrives. Today is no exception.
As I step off the machine and wipe my forehead, she comes out from the locker room. I take a long drink of water before I walk to the leg-curl.
Don't look at her yet. Don't look at her yet. Don't look at her yet. Now you can look at her. Aaahhh she's beautiful…
I have created a special training programme, designed to enable me to look at her without getting caught. The room is full of mirrors, and if I use the machines wisely I can watch her in those mirrors almost the entire session. At one time during training we use equipment facing each other. I take great care in not looking at her those times. At least I try.
Since she arrived later than me, I'm the first to get back into the locker room. I sit down on a bench close to the showers, so that she'll have to walk past me. My leg is bouncing nervously, and my heart is beating fast. I have butterflies in my belly, and I know from experience that they won't calm down until I get home. No other girl has ever made me react this way. Not even my first girlfriend, and that was a huge deal to me.
My heart nearly stops when I hear the sound I've been waiting for. The girl I've been making furtive glances at for the last five training sessions pushes the locker room door open with a swooshing sound. She rummages in her bag for a bottle of water, and I secretly watch her bobbing throat as she gulps some of it down. She is breathing heavily from the workout as she slides out of her damp training clothes.
I swallow hard as I watch her gently curved back. The cool air in the locker room covers her exposed skin with goose bumps, and I long to touch her, to warm her skin with my body. Her skin is glistening with moist, coated with small delicate beads of sweat, reminding me of tiny diamonds. I gaze at her perfectly rounded ass, my eyes lingering at the small dimples below her lower back. I want to taste the salty drops pooling there, dip my tongue in it and slowly lick along her spine. I want to feel her silky skin against my bare breasts, and caress her with my small, delicate hands. I want to feel her nipples tighten as I cover them with my lips and take them into my warm mouth.
I scrub my hands over my face and sigh. I've been fantasizing about this girl for what seems like an eternity. She's been haunting my dreams and making me wake up soaking wet with orgasms ricocheting through my body. She's been messing with my head at the office, forcing me to jill off in the ladies room to be able to get through the day. I clench my legs together, trying to smother the want that is settling in my belly and making my pussy throb.
She takes her bottles of shampoo and body wash, throws a towel over her shoulder, and walks past me to the showers. I follow her every step - my eyes are locked to her swaying hips and slender thighs. She pauses, and I slowly lift my eyes. She's watching me with a raised eyebrow, and a smile is playing her lips. I stop breathing as she tilts her head to the side, and motions to the shower.
"Aren't you going to shower, too?" Her voice is soft and playful, and my heart leaps at the sound of it. I cannot believe this is actually happening.
Yeah, I'm going to shower when I'm done shamelessly ogling you. Then I'm going to imagine your hands on my body as I wash myself, and… Wait. She's talking to me? She's talking to me! For real! Shit.
"Yeah. I'm just… taking a rest. You know, after the work out." I curse inwardly for the incredibly lame answer I just produced. The sexiest girl I've ever seen is asking me to accompany her to the shower, and I can't do better than that? I'm seriously the worlds worst lesbian. I'm never going to score again if I keep this nonsense up.
"Okay, well, I'll be in here." She trails her small fingers slowly along the tiles and holds my gaze until she slips around the corner into the showers. I'm left alone, speechless, with my mouth wide open. I shake my head and jump off the bench. My heart pounds rapidly as I gather my bottles and my towel and follow her. This is my fantasy coming true.
I hesitate as I enter the showers, suddenly insecure. What if I misunderstood, if I didn't read the signals correctly? She is in the corner waiting for the water to warm up, one hand inside the stream, the other resting on the wall. Her body is still glistening with sweat, and I walk up behind her, not sure what to do.
"I've noticed you." Her voice is low, and she's still standing with her back to me. The water in the shower is getting hot now, the steam is pouring out, enveloping us in a foggy mist.
"You have?" I whisper, closing my eyes. This is the moment. I'll soon know if she has noticed me in the same way I've noticed her.
"You want me," she states. I have no choice but to answer truthfully.
"Yes, I do. I'm sorry…" My voice cracks from the tension and I swallow audibly. I realize my apology must sound odd, but the fact is that I've been humping her in my mind for quite a while and I feel ashamed for it now. Apparently my ogling has been less than subtle, since she has noticed it.
"You can have me, you know," she replies softly, and all my coherent thoughts go down the drain with the water. I open my eyes and look at her. She's still standing with her back to me, her hands at chest level, holding onto the walls of the shower cubicle. I step closer, gently touching her curved waist. She pushes her behind against me, touching my soft pubic hair with her ass cheeks. My knees nearly buckle. I steady myself holding on to her slender hips, and pull her to me.
Yes. This is it. Oh god, I'm going to die a hundred little deaths tonight. I've barely touched her, and yet it has given me fantasy material for a lifetime. Her skin, her scent, her damp hair… I never want this to end.
I feel the soft, moist skin of her back against my breasts. The sensation in my nipples sends electricity down my body and makes my inner walls clench with need. I breathe into her ear and whisper:
"You have no idea how beautiful I think you are."
Her head falls to the side as I take her earlobe in my mouth. I suck gently on the soft flesh before I trail light kisses down her neck. She clenches her fists against the shower walls, and I slide my hands between her shoulder blades. A soft murmuring escapes her lips as I fall to my knees and run my hands down her long legs. I'm worshipping her beautiful curves, and caressing her soft behind, gently rubbing the dimples above her round cheeks. I run my nose up along the backside of her leg, and she parts them as I get closer to the apex of her thighs. She turns around and yanks me to my feet, crashing her mouth into mine. I moan as our bodies melt into each other, and I feel her hands roaming my back, cupping my ass and squeezing it gently. I kiss her fervently and press my pussy against hers, relishing the heat I can feel emanating from her.
She slides her hands to my waist and runs them lightly along my ribcage. The splashing sound of water cascading from the showerhead drowns the noise of my swallowing as she strokes my breasts. The slow movement lights my skin on fire and makes my body tremble with anticipation. My breath hitches when she lowers her hand and slides her fingers between my wet folds, slowly massaging my clit with her thumb and dipping the tip of her index finger inside of me. She gently bites my lower lip, making my legs quiver.
This is too hot, too much, too fast. I need to slow myself down. I don't want it to end.
Fantasy and reality fuse together, and I am amazed that this perfect woman is still here. I tear myself from her and lower my eyes to her beautiful breasts. I stare at them in awe of the smooth bronze skin, the perfect soft fullness, and the pert nipples. A low "wow" is escaping my lips, before she silences them by guiding my mouth to her breasts. I part my lips and dart my tongue out, tasting her puckered flesh in one soft stroke. It tastes exquisite, skin and salt and honey at the same time.
I don't even care if I never get to touch a woman again for the rest of my life. Reliving this in my mind will be better than any other girl in reality.
She moans quietly as I pull her nipple into my mouth, sucking lightly. I graze it with my teeth and bite down gently, and she throws her head back. Her hips are bucking, desperately seeking some friction. I press my leg between her thighs and she grinds herself against it. Her wet pussy is pressed against my bare thigh, and it is such a high to feel her warmth to my skin.
Her hands grab my head and push me down urgently. Her fingers are tangled in my hair, and I can feel her tug at it desperately.
"Please… taste me… I need to… your tongue... feel it…" Her whispers are incoherent and greedy and it is all I need. I fall to my knees in front of her, silently relishing the look of the velvety skin, her soft small triangle of black pubic hair, and her smooth clean shaven wet folds. Even down here she is beautiful. Her pussy reminds me of soft caramel candy and the urge to lick it is impossible to resist.
"Taste me." Two words. Two simple words. My brain shuts down, and all I know is instinct.
I touch her lightly with my lips and close my eyes. The sight of her, her moans, the taste, her scent, and the sensation of her against my mouth is too much at the same time, I have to take away one of my senses to not be overwhelmed. I part my lips and slide my tongue through her. Her skin is silky and smooth, and the scent is intoxicating. I lean my forehead against her pubic bone and inhale deeply, drowning in her fragrance. It is sweet, slightly musky and just… feminine. Smelling her is like smelling heaven.
She tilts my head up, and I look into her dark sultry eyes. I am kneeling before her, like a servant before her goddess, and I know that in this moment I am willing to do whatever she wants me to. I have no limits, no boundaries left. I am all hers.
I grab her ass and lower my eyes to the caramel folds in front of me. Her clit is like a swollen nub, erect and full of blood - a pearl of pure candy. I press my tongue against it and swirl around, marvelling at the feeling of the soft skin around it. I suck and lap at her, nibbling gently before working my way down. The insides of her slick folds are smooth, and I dip the tip of my tongue in her. She tastes extraordinary. It is tangy, citrusy and sweet at the same time, and it makes my tongue tingle with sensation. My heart is pounding and I feel the contractions in my pussy matching the strokes of my tongue against hers. I will not need more than a light touch to fall apart in ecstasy.
I hear her moans growing louder, more urgent as she writhes with pleasure. She arches forward and lifts her leg, hitching it over my shoulder. I feel the moisture seeping out of me and I instinctively move my hips back and forth, searching for something – anything – to touch me and satisfy the throbbing need. I increase the pressure of my tongue. As I push two fingers inside of her body, she takes a firm hold of my head and presses me against her, rubbing her clit against my face. I suck it in and massage it roughly with my tongue as I curl my fingers inside of her, hitting that sweet spot that can make a woman ecstatic if touched the right way. She hisses and then contracts tightly around my fingers, her body shaking frantically as she rides out the orgasm.
I breathe deeply and feel my chest swell with pride. She came to me and I made her feel this. My hands are shaking and my heart is fluttering. I am beyond words when she pulls me up for a deep kiss. Her soft lips caress me, and her tongue is gently swirling around mine. My mind is reeling when I realize that I'm here, now, with this beautiful girl, and that she is allowing me, me, to touch her like this.
"Thank you…" I whisper. She touches my breasts with her soft hands, and suddenly drags me under the showerhead. The hot water is streaming down my body and I let it soak my hair, turning my face upwards. My heart is racing and my head is still spinning from the intense experience. She squirts some soap out and starts to gently wash my body. I hold my breath and still myself, oddly afraid that if I move she'll disappear. She massages my hips and thighs before moving her hands up to my waist, and gently stroking my stomach. She dips a finger in my belly button, hitting a spot that sends electric currents right down between my legs, and I gasp loudly.
She continues with a sweet smile, softly cleaning my entire body, but leaving my breasts and centre untouched. The tension in my body is almost unbearable. I desperately want her to touch me there, but I don't have the courage to ask for it. I let her take the lead and just enjoy what I get. When she finally gives my breasts a gentle caress with her soapy hands, I think I'm about to burst with need. I pant as I feel her massaging hands, and when she rolls my nipples between her thumb and index finger, tweaking and pinching them, I am so close to coming I black out for a moment. She slides one hand between my legs and it doesn't take more than a few light strokes before I fall over the edge in the most intense orgasm I've ever had.
I close my eyes and lean against the hard tiles, feeling the hot water rinse the suds of soap off my body. Our heavy breaths mix with one another, and I just know I have the silliest smile on my face. I kind of hope she has too, but I don't dare open my eyes to check. I just stand there, quiet, smiling, and content. I feel her lean into me, and her lips press a gentle kiss at my smiling mouth. I hear a giggle, and then she is gone. I open my eyes slowly, only to find myself alone in the shower. I hear her dress in the locker room, and the swooshing sound of the door as she exits. I would have felt sad that she left if I wasn't so blissed out.
She is amazing… Whoa… wait a minute… I just had sex in a locker room. In a locker room. Thank god we are the only females in this joint Thursday nights…
I take my towel and scamper out of the shower on shaky legs. A note is attached to my backpack with a paper clip. I take it up slowly and read. A wide grin spreads across my face as I make an internal fist pump.
See you next week? Leah xxx