The No-Judgment Zone

by Ellie K. Wilde

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

I choke on the slice of pizza. It falls out of my mouth and I scramble to catch it with a Charlie Chaplin kind of juggling act, struggling to catch my breath.

“What I’m saying is,” Jenna continues solemnly. “My reasons for wanting to jump your bones are completely innocent.”

“As far as unconventional greetings go, I tend to prefer a good wowzah or even a hey, kitty-cat if you’re feeling saucy.”