Forbidden Fruit

"Schließlich das ist ein deutscher Bericht, und ich gebrauche das für eine Geschichte. Ich frage mich, wenn irgendjemand das wirklich übersetzen wird, weil es ziemlich jämmerlich ist. Sie dumme Gänse."
"Jemand sagte mir, dass Sie einen Freund haben, der das ein gutes Lied ist. Ich ließ es tatsächlich herunterladen. In diesem Augenblick höre ich einer anderen guten Popgruppe zu. Ich bin Teil-Deutsche wirklich. Das ist zu Typ-Dingen hart, die mit einer guten Übersetzung enden werden. Ich hoffe, dass das genügend ist."
:FLAGRANT ERROR:
"What?!" Logan stared at the now-blue screen of her computer. "That is just fucking typical!"
"Logan, vocabulary!" her mother yelled from the hallway, where she was putting away linens and folding towels for the linen closet.
"Sorry, Mom." she grumbled and raked her fingers through her dark brown locks. Logan rubbed her temples and sighed. That was the third time her computer had up and farted on her when she was trying to write her essay for her summer German classes. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and rubbed the sweat dewing her forehead off onto her sleeve. The air conditioning had broken, and she had run out of tanktops to wear in the hot weather. Her fan ran above, rustling the hot air around but doing nothing to cool the 16-year-old down. Her temperature practically matched her temper as she stripped out of her jeans shorts and T-shirt, and waded across the wooden floor to look for something better suited for the hot July weather.
"Mom, did you do laundry?" Logan asked, peeking out behind the door. Her mother threw her a 'if-you-want-it-so-bad-do-it-yourself' look, and continued folding towels. Logan rolled her eyes and shut the door again. The hallway was even hotter than her bedroom. Her mother was wearing only her silk, knee-length nightgown and sweat was dripping down her face. Logan sighed and leaned against the door. She looked down at her bra-covered chest and lacy panties. Hardly something she could go ask the neighbor if she could borrow his computer for a bit in.
Logan rummaged through her things one more time before finding a wife beater and some of her older brother's old shorts. The wifebeater fit her curves perfectly, but the pants were hanging dangerously low on her hips. She shrugged, shoved her feet into flipflops, and called, "Going over to Hunter's!"
Of course that was a perfectly legitimate idea. Hunter was home from college, and his family had not only a working computer, but air conditioning too. She smiled as she shimmied out her window and ran across her yard, over to the fence between their yards. She used one foot for support, then quickly and stealthily got over the fence, keeping her brother's pants on. Already she felt herself beginning to sweat. She hurried over to Hunter's front door and rang the doorbell.
"Logan! Long time no see!" Hunter's mother answered the door, looking absolutely perfect as always. Not a hair out of place.
"Hi, Mrs. Rhoads. I was actually wondering if I could borrow your computer space for a bit? Mine completely crashed on me and I've gotta write a German Essay for a summer class I'm taking." Logan fake smiled, and explained.
"Oh of course, we moved it up to Hunter's room though. Go on up, I'm not sure what he's doing." Mrs. Rhoads ushered Logan upstairs, then bustled back down. Logan stopped by the bathroom to pat down her face with tissues, and let her hair down. It landed perfectly around her shoulders, its different lengths framing her face. She grinned quickly and knocked on Hunter's door three times. It was their signal.
Nobody came to the door. Logan waited, then slowly twisted the knob. It wasn't locked, so she opened the door and gasped.
Hunter looked up from his bed at the radiant girl gawking at him. He realized that he was only wearing a towel and quickly grabbed his boxers and pants.
"Sorry Logan," he mumbled, looking the girl up and down slowly. She fidgeted under his gaze. "What brings you here?"
Logan watched Hunter somehow pull his boxers and pants on without dropping the towel, the sitting back down on his bed. His blonde curls were wet and his green eyes glittered with some strange emotion at seeing the girl.
"My computer died on me." she said lamely, and shrugged towards the computer sitting on the 19-year-old's desk. "Your mom told me this is where she moved the computer."
"Ahh, of course." Hunter said, smiling slightly. "Well, I won't bug you then. I'm just gonna take a nap."
"Is that why you were laying on the bed with your eyes closed?" Logan asked, turning the computer on.