That White Cami
A one shot by Grey Eyed.It was an excruciatingly hot Saturday, and the gang was chillin at their usual lunch table, eating ice cream and laughing. Sweat poured over their hairlines, drenching six foreheads 'til they were shiny. Lola was banging her head on the cool metal table, leaving a small lattice pattern across her head.
"It's so hot!" she exclaimed dramatically, wiping her eyebrows with a wet paper napkin. Zoey giggled miserably, pulling her hair off of her damp neck and up into a bright pink rubber band that matched her flip flops that lay discarded underneath the table. James, Michael, and Logan were shirtless, three totally different tee-shirts laying in a pile by a bush. A white muscle shirt was on the bottom, which Logan had pulled off upon arriving to the table. Next, was Michael's Rocket Pop tee all bunched up and inside out. Splayed out on top was a purple PCA sweatshirt, belonging to James.
Michael began droning on about the word 'bicycle' and how flumpy it was, causing everyone to laugh hysterically. A drop of pink strawberry ice cream fell from Quinn's cone, staining her green babydoll tank top. She shrugged, and pulled it over her curls, tossing it atop of James's shirt. As she did this, the white camisole she had underneath rode up about two inches, and Logan could not stop staring down at her flat abs. She gave him a crooked smile, and a wink, and sat down pretending nothing at all had happened.
So, my inspiration for this? My brother. I got up off the couch (cause I'm sick. Bleh) and I'm so sweaty from my fever, so I pull my orange sweatshirt over my messed up hair, and start to walk through the kitchen to the bathroom. My mom stopped me and felt my forehead. I streatched, and my cami rode up an inch or two, and I swear to God my little brother, whose 11, was staring at my stomach. Creepy. Well, I got to go now, I just got relocated to the basement so my fam could watch Toy Story 3 on the Blu-Ray player. Not that I mind. It's reallllly cold down here, and I get to watch Cake Boss: Next Great Baker on our big screen TV.
Disclaimer: Yeah, a middle aged man gave all rights to Zoey 101 to a sick Middle School fanfiction writer laying on a couch and typing through blurry teary eyes from her fever. Because that makes sense.
Cheer me up with reviews, pleaaase? And make it Fabu. Make me jelly of your reviewing skizzles. (Anyone catch my Greggy impression, lol? I love him!)
Grey Eyed (literally!)