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Read "Geography Club" by Brent Hartinger available from Rakuten Kobo. Sign up today and get $5 off your first download. A modern classic about a group of. Editorial Reviews. From School Library Journal. Grade 10 Up-Russel Middlebrook is a aracer.mobi: Geography Club (The Russel Middlebrook Series Book 1) eBook: Brent Hartinger: Kindle Store. Geography Club. [Brent Hartinger] -- A group of gay and lesbian teenagers finds mutual support when they form the "Geography Club" at their high school.

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Genre:Environment
Pages:164
Published (Last):19.12.2015
ISBN:252-9-76765-366-2
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Geography Club Ebook

A modern classic about a group of teens discovering sexuality and identity, perfect for fans of Becky Albertalli, Adam Silvera, and David aracer.mobi Hart. Read “Geography Club”, by Brent Hartinger online on Bookmate – Russel Middlebrook is convinced he's the only gay kid at Goodkind High School. Then his. geography club by brent hartinger ebook, geography club by brent hartinger pdf, geography club by brent hartinger doc, geography club by brent hartinger epub.

Then his online gay chat buddy turns out to be none other than Kevin, the popular but closeted star of the school's baseball team. Soon Russel meets other gay students, too. There's his best friend Min, who reveals that she is bisexual, and her soccer—playing girlfriend Terese. Then there's Terese's politically active friend, Ike. But how can kids this diverse get together without drawing attention to themselves? We could call it Geography Club! My adversaries were all around me. For the time being, my disguise was holding, but still I felt exposed, naked, as if my secret was obvious to anyone who took the time to look. I knew that any wrong action, however slight, could expose my deception and reveal my true identity. The thought made my skin prickle. The enemy would not take kindly to my infiltration of their ranks, especially not here, in their inner sanctum. Then Kevin Land leaned over the wooden bench behind my locker and said, "Yo, Middlebrook, let me use your shampoo!

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Please enter your name. The E-mail message field is required. Please enter the message. Then Kevin Land leaned over the wooden bench behind my locker and said, "Yo, Middlebrook, let me use your shampoo!

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I'd just come from the showers, and part of the reason I felt naked was because I was naked. I'd slung my wet towel over the metal door of my locker and was standing there all goosebumpy, eager to get dressed and get the hell out of there.

Why exactly did I feel like the boys' locker room after third period P. Well, there's not really a short answer to that question. Kevin stepped right up next to me and started searching the upper reaches of my locker himself. I could feel the heat of his body, but it did nothing to lessen my goosebumps.

I know you have some. You always have shampoo, just like you always have clean undies. I sat down on the bench, maneuvering my legs through the elastic of my underwear, then pulled them up. I fumbled for the shampoo in my backpack and handed it to Kevin. More important, he was naked too, and suddenly it seemed like there was no place to look in the entire locker room that wasn't his crotch.

I glanced away, but there were more visual land mines to avoid — specifically, the bodies of Leon and Brad and Jarred and Ramone, other guys from our P. Okay, maybe there was a short answer to the question of why I felt out of place in the boys' locker room.

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I liked guys. Seeing them naked, I mean.

But — and this is worth emphasizing — I liked seeing them naked on the Internet; I had absolutely no interest in seeing them naked, in person, in the boys' locker room after third period P. I'd never been naked with a guy — I mean in a sexual way — and I had no plans to do it anytime soon.

But the fact that I even thought about getting naked with a guy in a sexual way was something that Kevin and Leon and Brad and Jarred and Ramone would never ever understand. I wasn't the most popular guy at Robert L. I had a four-hour layover when I arrived there about two weeks ago, en route for Glasgow, and I made an uncomfortable beeline for gate D6, having stumbled off the red-eye furious, sweaty and exhausted.

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When I got to the desk, the clean, impeccably dressed, beautiful Dutch attendant politely told me I had three and a half hours to wait until check in, so I The thing about Schiphol is that it's almost too easy to navigate. When I got to the desk, the clean, impeccably dressed, beautiful Dutch attendant politely told me I had three and a half hours to wait until check in, so I circled back and found what I assumed was a waiting area.

I opened this book on my Kobo and finished it with way too much time to spare before check-in, and that's factoring in my painful battle with sleep; I nearly had to pinion my eyes open and don't even bother telling me I should have set an alarm on my phone because my data cut off somewhere over Iceland and Schiphol's wifi is timed.

So my phone bowed out. My phone is a fucking quitter. What I got through the veil of my bleary eyes was a so-so after school special with a nasty sexist undertone and a foolishly easy ending that completely undermines the entire point of the book.

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