The Election Connection

Chapter 4

I push open the door to the locker room hallway. Trivia club has just wrapped up, and I clutch Noah's paper in my hands. I stand in the middle of the hallway, looking around. To the left, I know, are the coaches' offices and the storage room, and to the right are the locker rooms. Coach Dante is standing in the hallway, writing something on his clipboard.
"Um, excuse me?" I say to him awkwardly. "Is Noah here?"
"Our star player?" Coach Dante asks with a chuckle. "Yup, down the hall to your right. Everyone else already left, but he kept practicing. If you want to catch him, better go now. He's almost done changing."
I say thanks and walk down the hall to the right. I nervously open the door to the locker room, knocking first. Noah's sitting on the bench in gray boxer briefs, rummaging through his bag.
"Noah, you left this in science," I say, purposefully averting my eyes from his muscular body.
"Thanks, Beck," he says with a smile, taking the paper from me. "This paper's really important, and I don't know what I'd do if you hadn't found it. And about earlier-
"It's fine," I say, cutting him off.
"It's really not. You don't deserve to be called mean names just because we're running against each other for class president. I'm sorry I just sat there and let them say that."
"Thanks for apologizing," I say, a smile spreading across my face.
"No problem," he says, responding with a smile.
We stand there for a second, and my eyes start to travel down his body.
I mentally pinch myself, waking me out of this disturbing and hormonal trance.
"Well, I should get going," I say quickly, pointing to the door.
He nods goodbye, and I walk home, dazed.
~~~~
    That night, I lie in bed, my blanket protecting me from the cool spring air. I close my eyes, and Noah in his underwear fills my head. This time, I let my eyes travel down his body. His six-pack abs, the smattering of hair on his stomach, the V that moves down into his underwear... My eyes move back up to his head, gazing into those blue eyes, his hair still slightly damp from the locker room shower.
    Snap out of it! I tell myself. There are tons of other hot guys in the grade to thirst after who AREN'T your mortal enemy!
    Instead of Noah in the locker room, I picture him onstage with me in front of the grade: me as class president, him as a sore loser. I fall asleep with a smile on my face.