Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

Bat, bat, bat.
Biting my lip, I try for my most seductive girl pose.
Griffin snorts. “With what?”
“With the cross-country course,” I say as I step closer and increase
my batting speed to mach two. “You must know all the bumps
and . . .” I place my hands on my hips, tugging my T-shirt tighter
across my chest in the process. “. . . curves.”
The corner of his kiss-begging mouth lifts up in a smirk. “Why
would I want to help you?”
He talks tough, but his eyes never leave mine—like he’s really
trying to figure out why I’m asking for his help.
Time to play my blackmail card. Stepping forward, I place my hands
on his shoulder and lift up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, “Because
you don’t want me to tell Coach Lenny about the shoelaces.”
I can hear his jaw grind in frustration.
Lowering back to my heels, I add, “But if you’re all talk about
running, then I guess you can’t help me after all.”
With nerves of steel, I turn away. My heart is racing and I can’t
feel my hands or my feet. But somehow, I start walking and keep
moving forward. I take three steps before he calls out.
“Meet me at the starting line at noon on Sunday.” His voice is
cocky—without turning around I can tell he’s acting like this is
some big joke. “I’ll show you how to run the course.”
“See you there,” I say casually and then keep walking.
Stella, who has been watching the entire show, smiles and nods
at me. I guess she approves of my first effort. Hopefully, that means
I won’t have to worry about her zapping my food into something
from the low rungs of the animal kingdom anytime soon.
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