Free Ethereal by Addison Moore Page A

She’s getting busy with monkey boy. ~S
    A fair amount of the movie goes by before my cell spins from the vibration over on the coffee table.
    Work. Want to come? I can use the help. Must be a great day to bowl. What is B doing with a monkey?
    I hear the distinct knock of a headboard whack against the wall a few times then nothing. I’m afraid to move, or breathe, and I want noting more than to run home in the pouring rain and pull the covers up over my head. I’m not sure that I’m fit to live in a world where monkey boy gets action with a beautiful girl like Bree, especially not if said action is taking place right above my head. It feels like an unholy violation listening to it in real time.
    I would love to come. I’d much rather help u. It is the perfect day for bowling. And to answer your question, rutting. ~S
    It takes less than a minute for him to respond.
    Rutting?! You have a way with words. You should write poetry.
    I laugh at the thought. If I wrote poetry it wouldn’t be about my rodent-like stepbrother and newfound best friend. I would pen rivers of sappy words, all strung together in an effort to capture the intensity of the feelings I have for Logan. I might just do that anyway.
    I’ll save my poems for you. I promise they will not include the word rutting. Ever. ~S
    I try and formulate a poem for him in my mind, but each time the word love pops up uninvited. Is this what it feels like to be in love? What I feel for Logan?
    He buzzes right back.
    Rutting is my new favorite word. BTW, Gage wants me to give you a message. He very much looks forward to rutting with you.
    Ha. Ha.
    Tell Gage anytime. I’m waiting, and coincidentally very lonely at this very moment. ~S
    Less than ten seconds.
    Never mind. I suddenly have a great disdain for the word rutting. You must never rut with Gage. Promise me this.
    My heart warms at his sudden burst of jealousy.
    Will you rut with others? Turnabout is fair play. ~S
    No.
    Promise. ~S
    I place down the phone and settle in to watch the rest of the movie. It was a strange yet comforting conversation with Logan. I think I’m one inch away from being his girlfriend. I wonder how it gets to be official. Write on your Facebook wall? Change your profile to read in a relationship ? Or maybe it just becomes so painfully obvious that after a while everybody and their mother, knows. I’ve never had a boyfriend before, but I’d sure love to know the answer to these questions.

Chapter Eighteen
     
    Take down
     
    It’s not fifteen minutes into cheer practice that I manage to tweak my ankle entirely on my own. I’d love to blame just about anybody for today’s literal misstep, but the bulk of the blame is on me. OK, all of it.
    “How’d you do this?” Logan’s football coach hovers over me. He presses his forefinger down over the growing bulge until I squeal in pain.
    “Nice method of evaluation.” I slap his hand away. “If this were the middle-ages.”
    His eyes bug out with surprise. I don’t really care what he thinks, I’m not one of his jocks who needs to take whatever he dishes, especially if what he’s dishing involves pain.
    “You need to ice it. Stay off it for a day or two. Nothing’s broken.” He rises to his feet then claps his hands extra loud in an effort to break up the crowd.
    Logan reaches down and picks me up effortlessly with one arm under both knees, his other supporting my back. “Where to?”
    “I need ice.” I whine when I say it. I try not to let on that I’m on the verge of tears. It’s not so much the pain than the embarrassment and extra attention. I never was a big fan of either.
    “I know just the place.”
    Brielle walks besides us over to his truck.
    “There’s no way you’ll get her in there.” She says full with concern over the aerial feat Logan’s ready to attempt.
    He has Gage hold open the door and block Brielle’s view in the process as he lifts me safe into the seat as though I were as heavy as a hollowed out