Indigo Blues Read Online Free

girls from outside.
    "Dude, where have you been?" Zach pulls out a stool
for me. "I was just about to send Hannah here to look for
you.
    Hannah, the hottie not claimed by Zach, smiles at me. I nod and take a seat. She's really pretty, with long blond
hair and soft white skin. "I had to get a round of shots."

    The waiter zigzags through the crowd and passes out
the tray of Lemon Drops.
    "Now we're talking," Tommy says.
    We all grab our drinks, say cheers, and slam our empty
glasses down onto the table.
    I've got a buzz and figure what the hell, I might as well
talk to Hannah. I lean over and ask, "So, where are you
from?" Lame, I know, but I haven't even had time to warm
up yet.
    "Boulder, Colorado. But I'm a sophomore at SUNY
Purchase."
    "Colorado. Cool. You ski?" Dumb question. That's like
asking a New Yorker if they've ever eaten good pizza.
    "No. Not my thing."
    Okay, not so dumb. One point for Adam.
    "What's your thing?" I move in a little closer. She smells
like strawberries. Indigo smelled like strawberries, too. They
must use the same shampoo.
    Hannah's eyes are big and round. Her lips shiny and
moist. She leans in and our lips touch. She slides her tongue
into my mouth and I hold on. I wonder if her lips are real.
They're so large. So soft. I don't think I've ever kissed anyone with fake parts before. I run my fingers over her breasts.
They feel real, but it's hard to tell through a ribbed shirt
and bra.
    "So that's what you like," I say.
    Jack asks if anyone else wants another beer. I pass. I don't want to get wasted and end up doing something I'll
regret. Like sleeping with a hot non-skier from Colorado
with possible Botox lips but a tight ass and firm, real breasts.
Plus, we have an interview on Wake Up, America on Monday and I don't need to slink in with a hickey. Everyone
is going to be watching this one. My dad. Grandparents.
Indigo? She'll be in school. Still, she could catch it later on
the net.

    "Well, do you?" Hannah pokes me in the shoulder.
    I shoot her my huh? look.
    "Dance?" She doesn't even wait for an answer. Instead,
she yanks me by the arm. A bunch of people are dancing around in the middle of the room. Punk rock is blaring from the speakers, some old London '70s tunes mixed
with new. None of that slow-dance middle-school crap,
so I agree. Zach and Hannah's friend, Erica, are already
smushed together like taffy. We get moving a few feet from
them. I'm not gonna lie, it feels good to be this close to a
beautiful girl.
    I get lost in the music. Lost in the grooves of Hannah's
body.

     

o try and forget this whole "Indigo Blues" mess, I've
decided to focus all my energy on getting Tripp to ask
me out. Usually I'm drooling over rock stars in Rolling Stone
or actors in People magazine, but Tripp is that hot. I'll give
myself one week to make it happen. And if it doesn't, then
I'll ask him out myself.
    The whole thing was Cat's idea, and at first I brushed
it off because some of Cat's ideas are pretty nuts. After all,
she was the one who suggested that last summer we buy
one of those metal detectors and comb the beach for lost
treasure to raise money to go to Six Flags. But after she left
my house tonight, I really gave it some thought. I figure
that at this point, I have nothing to lose.

    This is what I know:
    1. Tripp is so hot that his face should be plastered on
the walls of teenagers' bedrooms across America.
    2. He also has a younger brother, so he can share my
pain.
    3. His parents own Delilah's, the yummiest gourmet
restaurant in town.
    4. And most importantly, he said he likes my hair.
    I finish the clasp on Cat's necklace just before midnight. I'm going to be so tired at school tomorrow, but I
want to give it to her in the morning. I stand in front of
the full-length mirror with it on. Hopefully she likes how
it turned out. I wonder what Tripp's favorite colors are. I
could make a necklace to wear for our impending date.
Maybe football colors.