Fly on the Wall: How One Girl Saw Everything by Lockhart E

Author:Lockhart, E. [Lockhart, E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780307495532
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2006-03-07T06:00:00+00:00

Seventh period ends and the freshmen filter out. First of the Art Rats to come in is Titus.

Oh my god, I hadn't thought about this,

there's been so much going on,

but I'm about to see Titus naked.

Naked!

Suddenly, all my spying seems wrong.

I mean, it's one thing to check out people you don't speak to, who don't even know you exist,

but it's another thing to spy on people you see every day in class. People you know.

Should I look at Titus?

I'd be furious if he (or anyone else) were watching me in the locker room.

But I can't shut my eyes. Literally, I can't. I've got no eyelids. And I've got eyes in the back of my head, so I can't look away. No matter where I fly in the locker room, I can see Titus as he heads toward his locker.

Besides, I want to see.

I know it's wrong, but the boy I think about all the time is taking off his clothes in front of me.

Would anyone in my position honestly look away?

Once he bangs open his locker, Titus throws his backpack on the floor. He tears off his jacket and T-shirt, then puts on his gym sweatshirt right away.

Like he's embarrassed. Even though he's alone.

I catch a glimpse of a very, very thin torso—soft white skin on the sides of his body, no hair anywhere much—and then it's gone. He yanks down his pants and his boxers with his face practically inside his open locker, and I can see his booty is a solid A—the small, narrow kind. His legs are thin as well. Spindly, you could even say.

He pulls a pair of white briefs out of the bag and puts them on quickly, followed by baggy gray gym shorts. His pale calves look out of place beneath the wide legs of the shorts.

He sits down on the bench, as if relieved, and slowly pulls on a pair of sweat socks. Then he goes over to his minilocker and gets his running shoes.

Adrian and Malachy bang in, along with a couple of sophomore boys from the photography department, guys I recognize from classes, but whom I don't know. Brat trails in after them, lugging his oversize book bag.

“Hey,” they say to Titus.

“Hey,” he says back.

“Crap,” mutters Adrian, running his hand through his spiky hair. “Can you believe what that faggot Meadows gave us for lab homework? We don't even get the weekend to do it.” He's changing his clothes, and his body looks both energetic and relaxed, like he's comfortable in his skin.

“Whatever,” Titus says, “I don't think he's gay.”

“Well, he's sure a bastard,” says Adrian. “You give me that?” He pulls on a T-shirt and grabs his shoes from his minilocker.

“Yeah,” laughs Titus. “I give you that.”

“I hope we don't have dodgeball again,” pipes up Brat with a nervous laugh. “When did Sanchez say we were gonna do the hockey unit?”

No one answers him. It's like he didn't even say anything.

“Come on, Ip,” says Titus. Adrian shoves his feet into his sneakers and the two of them slam through the doors that lead to the gymnasium.

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