We weren't always like this;  at each other's throats, tossing barbs back and forth across a table in a public space, being nasty to each other on the phone. Once upon a time, JC and I got along really well.

Really really well.

I've known him pretty much my whole life, longer than any other childhood friend. He grew up two houses down from us. Our parents became fast friends, two young couples finally making a middle class income that could afford them a comfortable home in an Orlando, Florida suburb.

I'm an only child, which is cool with me. I never needed siblings because so many kids were on our block. JC and his sister are about my age. Tyler was JC's shadow. A few houses down the block lived Morgan's family-she has two brothers, older. She's the only girl, the youngest, the princess.  The Del Ray's have two rambunctious boys and sweet, gentle Nicholas. He was always rescuing a bird that had fallen from its nest or inspecting someone's scraped knee. His dad, the Senior Doctor Del Ray, was our pediatrician for years.

Other kids came and went, separating into cliques, depending on what grade they were in. We-the four of us-happened to be the same age, in the same grade, some of us in the same classes. We were naturally drawn together and became the best of friends, especially Morgan and Nick. Those two were thick as thieves and you hardly ever saw one without the other.

That meant JC and I were together a lot. I was a tomboy so I liked to ride bikes and dig in the dirt and play touch football in the summer and basketball in the winter.  I was always up for a game of HORSE in the driveway or softball at the park or taking our bikes on the various trails around our neighborhood, through forests and around lakes. I was ‘one of the guys' to JC.

Until puberty hit.

The summer we turned thirteen was crazy. The difference from the last day of school in the sixth grade to the first day of school in the seventh grade was like night and day. My body, newly coursing with hormones, completely transformed. Overnight I woke up with small but perky breasts instead of the flat chest I was used to. I had to start wearing a bra instead of just throwing on a t-shirt. My mom said it was ‘improper' for a girl with my build to be out without a bra on. I remember thinking...whatever, mom. 

Gangly, awkward arms and legs developed some bulk and shape and my hips began to curve and all of a sudden I had an ass. It wasn't huge, but it was there.  In honor of my new girlish figure, I started using the flatiron on my hair so I had wavy hair instead of a ratty, messy pony tail.  I was wearing form fitting jeans and dresses that just barely kissed my knees and my legs, long and golden, were showing!

The first day of school, we all planned to walk together. It was either that or have our moms drive us and by seventh grade we weren't having that embarrassing show. JC would come to get me and the two of us would walk down to Morgan's, then Nick's and the four of us would walk the six blocks to school.   

I hopped down the stairs with my backpack, wearing new jeans that hugged my hips instead of sagging around my waist, sandals with a heel and open toe that showed off pink sparkly toes, and a white blouse that wasn't too tight but was tight enough.

I was running late like normal and in a hurry to get out the door.  My mother had a funny look on her face when I reached the landing and leaned over to whisper in my ear, "You shouldn't run down the stairs like that, honey. You're really... bouncy."  She pointed toward my chest and angled her head at JC, who was waiting by the door.  His mouth was open and his face was red and he was staring. Hard.  

So was I.

It's funny how you can see someone every day and not notice how much they've changed until it's forced on you. JC wasn't the scrawny kid with big puffy curls atop his head and an enormous gap between his two front teeth.  I noticed, all of a sudden, that he'd grown an inch. Maybe two! His hair got long enough to lie down a little and instead of dry curls it was soft, dark waves. His spoon chest developed some and he suddenly had pecs. And arms. And his voice, when he said ‘Hey, you ready?' was growing rich and deep. 

"You two be careful walking, and have a good day!" My mom was saying, pushing us out the door.

We stumbled down the porch steps, eyeing each other without trying to look like we're eyeing each other. JC's jeans were new, the denim still a dark indigo blue. He wore a belt and a baby blue knit short sleeved shirt and spotless brown shoes. He smelled good, like his dad had given him a spritz of cologne before he left the house.

"You look good," I said to him while we picked our way down the sidewalk.

JC, still a little red in the face, mumbled, "Thanks. You uh... you too. I mean... I mean cool shirt."

"You mean cool boobs, don't you?"

He laughed. I wasn't used to that laugh yet. I definitely wasn't used to how the sound of it made me shiver but at the same time warmed my insides.

"Kinda," he answered.

"Well, I didn't ask for them. They just showed up." I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned to JC. "Do I look stupid? Honestly. Are boys gonna laugh at me?"

JC looked me over, head to toe, and blushed again. "You don't look stupid. You look...you look kinda hot."

I laughed. He laughed. The gap between his teeth made me feel like he was the same old JC. "Shut up," I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder and walking again.

"You asked."

"I know."

"I mean it though."

A quiet moment passed. That feeling... what was that? The flutter in my stomach and the shy smile that crawled across my face...that never happened before.  "Thanks," was all I could manage, because I could barely breathe.

"Welcome."

That day marked a subtle change between me and JC. Things seemed okay mostly, except we'd be studying at his house or mine and I would look up to find him staring at me. He'd look away really fast or glance above my head and pretend he wasn't, but he was. And I knew it because I was staring at him. 

JC... my friend... the little kid from next door... was cute. Really cute.

I wasn't the only one that noticed, and maybe that's where his current pussyhound-ness comes from. A few inches and a nice head of hair to pair with his eyes and smile and he'd been declared the most eligible bachelor at West Orange Junior High. Lots-and I mean lots of girls were after him, but deep down JC was a shy kid. He didn't know what to do with his newfound popularity. They (a gaggle of girls) would come to his locker and drag him off to sit with them at lunch, where he'd eat and nod and laugh, but all the while kept looking over his shoulder at us at our table.  I almost felt sorry for him. I could tell he'd rather be with us.

I didn't mind most of the girls, because we'd all gone to school together so they were my friends too. There was just this one bitch I couldn't stand.

Stacey Rodriguez was one of those girls that decided she wanted something or someone and was annoying as fuck until she got it. She was plenty pretty, which helps when you're a demanding bitch. She usually got what she wanted because everyone was afraid of her. She decided, that year, that what... or who she wanted was JC. She claimed him and it was hell on Earth for anyone who tried to compete with her.

Stacey would cut her eyes at anyone who dared flirt with him. Lunch invitations were hers and only hers to give. She brought him treats (he loved peanut butter anything) and hogged his free time. JC found her amusing-she was the kind of girl he seemed to like. You know the type-- fiery, Latin, thought a lot of herself so he didn't have to compliment her that much.

She bugged the shit out of me and I made a point of flaunting my lifelong friendship with JC just to piss her off. He was different around her; he made sex jokes all the time and let her hang all over him. They kissed nonstop, everywhere. Morgan, Nick and I once filled his locker with Chapstick. As much as he and Stacey sucked face, he sure needed it.

JC's relationship with Stacey was tumultuous, very off and on. Off a lot. She was possessive and JC liked being seen with her but didn't want to be chained to her. She wanted to control who he hung out with, including his friends. He preferred, truthfully, to spend time with me. She couldn't trump us practically being in diapers together so this made me and Stacey mortal enemies, forever in battle for JC's attention. I wasn't worried about it. I saw the way he looked at me.

We danced around each other for a year or two, pre-teen hormones slowly giving way to full blown desire. Everyone saw it-Morgan, Nick, our parents, the mailman-except us. Until it was right on top of us. Or we were on top of each other.

By the ninth grade, we'd both grown into our budding, almost grown up bodies. JC was used to being noticed and so was I and it didn't seem to be something that made either of us uncomfortable. We'd hang out, watching TV or listening to music, doing homework, or riding our bikes to the arcade and wasting our parent's loose change.

One night, when our parents were out to dinner and a show, JC decided to come over and wait the night out at my house. He envied that I didn't have siblings that were loud or messed with any of my stuff or that I had to watch and take care of. That was mostly the reason he spent so much time over at our place-my mom treated him like the son she never had instead of the babysitter.

We'd decided to watch a zombie movie and it was probably something I'd think was stupid now, but it was scary for an innocent 15 year old. We sat on the couch next to each other, watching our movie in the dark, the flicker from the TV playing with the shadows in the room and driving my anxiety through the roof.

"I can't, I can't, I can't watch it!" My hands were over my eyes and I was near tears hearing the moaning of the zombies and the dragging of their feet and the blood curdling screams of the victims. I begged JC to turn the movie off. He laughed, but soon I heard the ‘zap' sound of the TV turning off. The room was quiet and I felt it was safe to remove my hands and look around.

I could just barely make out JC's figure on the couch next to me but I could hear the smile in his voice. "You okay? Are you gonna die?"

I gulped back the tears that had been threatening and nodded. "Yeah. I'm okay.  I'm sorry, that scared the shit outta me!"

"You're okay," he said, and gave my thigh a pat. But then left his hand there and began to rub my skin, ever so slowly, ever so softly. The feeling gave me goosebumps but I didn't want him to stop, so I didn't say anything.

He grew bolder, stroking my bare thigh from my knee to the bottom of the shorts I wore. Every touch of his hand was like an electrical current shooting up and down my back. It was a new feeling to me. I'd gone out with boys but none of them ever made me feel like that. My heart didn't race and my chest didn't get tight and I never wanted them to kiss me like I wanted JC to lean over and kiss me.

And then, right when I thought I would explode if he didn't... he did.

At first it was like kissing my brother. Dry, awkward pecking on my lips. I started to giggle and he pulled away. Before I could stop myself I grabbed his face and brought his lips to mine and planted my mouth on him. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose and a felt him groan as he moved even closer, tipped his head and opened his mouth. My tongue twisted and swirled with his and it felt less like kissing my brother and more like scratching an itch I never knew I needed to scratch, but now that I had, I couldn't stop.

Kissing JC was like kissing no other boy I'd ever kissed before. Not that I was all that experienced, it was just different. His lips were soft and he moved slowly and gently, more stroking than stabbing. With other boys it felt like they thought just sticking their tongue in my mouth was kissing. JC showed me that it was way more than that.

We kissed like kissing was going out of style. It felt... amazing to be exploring something new with someone I knew so well. After a few minutes JC leaned into me and I felt a natural urge to lie down and let him climb on top of me. I studied the pockmarks in the popcorn ceiling while his lips moved across my cheek and down one side of my neck and up the other side. My mind was racing, screaming with hope that he might try to touch me.

As if he was reading my mind, I felt one hand creeping beneath my t-shirt. Light fingertips fluttered over my stomach and settled over one breast encased in a thin bra. He kneaded softly, carefully squeezing and when his thumb happened to brush over my nipple, the sensation made my entire body jerk.

"Oh. Do you want me to stop?"

"No," I answered, shaking my head violently. 

He flicked my nipple again and I could feel his smile when I moaned and writhed beneath him. "Does that feel good?"

"Mmmhmm."

"You know what feels good to me?"

"What?"

He shifted so he laid directly on top of me, between my legs, pressing into me. It felt like he had a tree trunk down the front of his pants.

"Oh my God! Does... does that hurt?"

"No. I mean, later it might. But right now it feels really good. Especially with you."

That made me want to kiss him some more, so I did. We lay on the couch, trying not to hump each other, kissing and touching and giggling for a long, long while. I glanced at the clock on the VCR, the LED numbers glowing in the dark room. Our parents would be back soon, and they'd never trust us to be alone ever again if they caught us making out.

"You gotta get up," I said, pushing JC up.

He sat up, then leaned over to the edge of the couch and turned the lamp on. For the first time, I was seeing him in all of his horny glory. His hair was no longer full of cool waves but had shrunken back into tight curls. His face was flushed pink and the crotch of his jeans bore an unmistakable sign of teenage arousal. I didn't imagine I looked any better. Still, we grinned at each other, almost embarrassed at what we'd spent a good hour and a half doing.

"I better get going. I need to shower or something before my folks get home." JC got up and headed toward the door.

"So... see you... tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" He had reached for the doorknob and turned it, but stopped and turned around. "What's tomorrow?"

I followed him to the door, suddenly shy and not knowing what to say. I wanted him to come back and I wanted to be alone with him. "Uh, well my parents are going to their monthly committee meeting and then they always go to dinner. They leave around 7 o'clock usually."

"Okay."

"If you wanted to come over. And study. Or whatever." I smiled. "You could, if you wanted to."

"Oh." Light bulb. "Oh! Okay. Study, yeah. I'll come study."

"Right. So see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. Seven?"

"Seven."

The door closed behind him. I leaned up against it and exhaled like I'd been holding that breath all night.

I slept fitfully that night. I tossed and turned, snoozing for about an hour and then my eyes would pop open and my mind would be full of JC. I thought we'd made it past that day when we were thirteen and couldn't stop staring at each other, but it seemed like it had just festered and grown into something new and different and something I only wanted to experience with him. Thinking about him kissing me, touching me... doing much, much more to me made my whole body pulse. I tossed my blanket and sheet aside and lay there, letting the night air sooth my raging hormones.

What was I going to say to him the next day at school?

And tomorrow night? Would we...did he even want to?

Did I want to?

I sat up and tucked my legs up under me, sitting cross-legged in the middle of my bed. I stared out the window at the blanket of darkness outside, seeing through the barrier of trees and the house next door, into the Chasez house, then downstairs and to the left to JC's bedroom.

What was he doing? He could sleep like the dead, anytime and anywhere. Was he knocked out? Or was he awake like me? Wondering.... dreaming... thinking... hoping.

I got out of bed and tip toed over to my desk and sat in the desk chair my dad handed down to me when he redecorated his office downstairs. I reached behind the computer and flipped it on, wincing when I noticed how loud it was when it was booting up. Once it was on, I clicked on the AOL button in the bottom left hand corner of the window and waited for the modem to dial and squeal and beep. Thankfully, my parents also slept like the dead and their bedroom was downstairs at the other end of the house.

Being an only child does have its privileges, like your parents totally trusting you to not be online at 3am with the boy down the street.

Once AOL connected, the familiar voice boomed over the speakers: You've got mail. I smiled, recognizing JC's email address. He'd sent it about an hour ago.

                To: angiebee@aol.com

                From: jshazz@aol.com

                Re:

                I thought you might be up. Guess not. But if you wake up, message me.

                J.

My heart was beating right out of my chest and my hands were shaking so hard, I couldn't seem to click the button to reply. When I finally got a new email open, it was only to write simply, "I'm up."  I signed it AB, pressed send and waited for a reply.

And waited.

And waited.

And right as I was getting sleepy again and was about to sign off, I heard the sound of a door opening-AOL's indicator that a contact was now online.

                jshazz:  you couldn't sleep either?

                angiebee: slept a little. kept waking up.

                jshazz: sucks. that's worse than not sleeping. what's waking you up?

angiebee: just thinking about stuff.

jshazz: like... earlier tonight stuff?

angiebee: yeah. you?

jshazz: yeah. don't be mad at me.

angiebee: i'm not.

jshazz: ok. cool. :)

jshazz: i had fun with you.

angiebee: me too.

angiebee: you thought i was mad at you?

jshazz: i didn't know. but i didn't want you to be. you're like my best friend and stuff.

angiebee: aw. :) i'm not mad.

jshazz:  i thought about that for a long time.

jshazz: i mean i wanted to do that for a long time. since the seventh grade.

angiebee: yeah?

jshazz: yeah. did you?

angiebee: i never thought about it till you did it. but. i liked it.

jshazz: me too. a lot. i guess i should go. i want to get off before my mom hears me typing.

angiebee: okay. see you tomorrow.

jshazz: see you today. ;)

angiebee: oh yeah. today. ;)  and tonight.

jshazz: 7.

angiebee: 7. bye.

I signed off, absolutely positively, stupidly giddy. I had no clue how I was going to make it to 7 o'clock. This was going to be the longest day ever.

At 7pm sharp that night, JC was at my house. At my kitchen table, with two books spread open before him, a notepad flipped to a blank page and a pencil stuck between his teeth. I sat across from him with just about the same setup. We sat there listening to my parents rush around the house because they were late for their meeting.

Under the table, JC kicked at my feet. I looked up and met his eyes. He winked. Then whispered, "When are they leaving?"

I giggled and opened my mouth to answer but my parents came bustling around the corner.

"Okay, kids. We're off. We'll be back kind of late, so get to bed on time," my mom chirped. "You'll need a good night's sleep for your test. What is it that you're studying anyway?"

"French," I said.

"Geometry," JC said.

My mom looked confused for a moment but let it pass. "Oh well. Whatever. You're good kids to help each other out." She followed my dad out of the kitchen door to the garage. We stayed put until we heard the car start, the garage door open and then close and the car's light rumble make its way down the street.

Only then did I breathe a sigh of relief. "I thought they would never fucking leave!"

"I know!" JC threw his pencil down on the table and slammed both books shut. "I didn't even have any homework, man."

"Me either. By the way, Geometry?"

He laughed. "It was the first thing that came to mind! French? Showoff."

"Shut up." I got up from the table and walked around it to the refrigerator. "You want anything? Soda, water, milk-"

JC was next to me suddenly, an arm slung over my shoulder. He smelled so good-like cologne and sweat and.... guy. He just smelled like a guy.

"I don't want anything in this refrigerator."

"Oh."

"Oh."

I stepped back and closed the refrigerator door and turned to face him. I was nervous but unsure why. This was JC, the kid that lived two houses down. The same guy I've known for years that I used to play in the dirt with and ride bikes with and catch frogs with. Same guy. Right?

No. This JC was different. I didn't know what to expect from this tall, gangly almost man with the peaches and cream skin and the luscious hair and the voice that made me go all stupid. The fact that I couldn't predict him was exciting.

"So what do you want to do?" He asked.

I smiled and bit my bottom lip, then lunged toward him, throwing my arms around his neck and pressing myself against him. He seemed taken aback at first but once he regained his footing, he wrapped me up tight in his arms and tipped his head toward me. Our lips met in a crush of pants and moans and shuffling of feet as we moved-as one-to the living room and then landed in a heap on the couch.

JC wiggled his way around so he was on top of me, between my legs like the night before, except this time he wasn't being so polite. His tongue was swirling around mine and his hips were gyrating, rubbing his hardening dick into me. It felt so good to buck my hips and meet his thrusts and stare up at his face while he moved. He was concentrating, deeply. His eyes were closed, his cheeks flush, his breath coming in fast, hard puffs.

"Wait, wait, wait. Stop." I started to sit up, so JC stopped and moved to the side, wiping sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Sorry," he said, his voice gruff. "I'm sorry, I'll stop. You just...you feel good."

"I don't want us to stop, stop."

JC's head snapped up. "What?"

"I just want to move... uhm... upstairs."

"Oh." Relief washed over his face and he stood up, ready to go. "Okay."

We climbed the stairs, JC following me closely down the hall to my room.  He stepped in, looked around and smiled.  "I haven't been in your room in forever. Where's all the pink stuff you used to have?"

When I was younger, my mother seemed to mourn the fact that I was a tomboy. She decorated my room in pink and white and it was so sickeningly sweet, I eventually refused to sleep in there. I'd had the white eyelet comforter and curtain set for a few years and while it was pretty plain, it was better than pink.

"I threw it away when I grew up. I'm not a little girl anymore."

"Good. That pink shit was hideous."

We laughed, relaxing a little. I sat on my bed and kicked off my shoes, then gave a soft pat-pat to the bed next to me. JC sat next to me, tucked his hands underneath him and stared at his feet for a few seconds.

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to," I said. "We can just talk." I mentally crossed my fingers that he would want to do more than talk.

"I want to," he said. Thank God. "I don't know how to start." He paused for a moment and then looked at me. "Do you want to?"

"If you want to." I shrugged. "Did you bring.... uhm... like... a condom?"

He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a tri fold wallet, ripped the Velcro flap open and fished out a small disc wrapped in plastic. I took it and inspected it. It didn't look like any condom I'd ever seen. Not that I'd seen a whole lot of them.

"How old is this?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I found it."

"You found a condom so you just picked it up and put it in your wallet? And you brought this out to use with me? What if it has a hole in it or something?"

He grabbed it from me and held it up to the light. "It doesn't have a hole in it. See? You'd be able to see through it. Anyway, I couldn't get one from my dad. He had a vasectomy; they don't use them."

"It could still have a hole in it." I sighed and rolled off the bed, stomped down the hall, down the stairs to my parents' bathroom, reached deep into the closet for the basket of things my mother didn't know that I knew about. I fished out a couple of condoms and went back upstairs. JC was still sitting in the same place. I handed one to him and threw the other one into the drawer in the night stand.

JC looked from me to the small square package and back to me. "You want me wear your dad's condoms."

"You were gonna take one from yours, if he used them. It's brand new."

"Okay. So. Should I... I should take my clothes off?"

"If you want."

Off came his shirt, which he laid out carefully along the edge of the bed. Baby fine hairs curled against the pale skin of his chest. His arms were the same shade of bland until about mid-forearm when his tan and the hair kicked in. He stood to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans and kick off his shoes. I watched with amusement and amazement at him, his body and what we were seriously about to do.

"Are you going to take your clothes off?"

"Oh. Yeah." I was so distracted by watching him undress I forgot I had to as well. I pulled my t-shirt over my head and unzipped my jeans, letting them fall to the floor and stepping out of them. We were in our underwear, in the middle of my bedroom, staring at each other.

"So...we should..." I gestured toward the bed and we climbed on top of the comforter and sat there. "Maybe we should pull the comforter back. In case... I mean, I'm a virgin and I heard--"

"Okay." We got up again, pulled the cover back and stared at the crisp white sheets. "You should get-"

"-a towel," I finished, then rushed to the linen closet next to my bedroom and dug out a dark towel.  I spread it over the middle of the bed. "Okay. We just have to stay on that."

We climbed back up onto the bed and sat on the towel.

"Let's just lay down, "I suggested. "And if we feel like doing something, we will."

"Right," he agreed, lying down next to me, flat on his back and then immediately rolling to his side and propping himself up on an elbow. Despite the fact that we had yet to do anything, he seemed pretty proud of himself. "You're a virgin?"

I nodded. "Are you?"

His eyes dropped and he shrugged a shoulder. "I wanted you to be the first."

"You did?"

He nodded, his cheeks flushing pink again. That made me want to kiss him. I wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him on top of me. I felt him through his boxers and my panties. He felt bigger...harder. Way different than through two pairs of jeans.

We kissed and humped and moaned for a few minutes before JC sat up, rolled the boxers down his hips and reached for the condom that he had set aside. His erection seemed like it was raging, the tip of it red and the shaft sticking straight out from his body. I'd only seen one penis before and it was okay. JC's was fun to look at.

Ripping the packaging open, he pulled out the latex ring and looked at it for a moment before rolling it on.

With an almost clear latex sheath on it, it was a little scary but I decided I was just going to go with it. I wanted to have sex. I wanted to have sex with JC. I laid back and lifted my hips so I could roll my panties down. My bra disappeared over the side of the bed. I was bare-naked in front of him and he seemed to be enjoying the view.

I pulled at his arms and encouraged him to lie back down, which put him exactly where he needed to be.

"Will this hurt you?"

Morgan and I had already had multiple conversations about sex. I knew more about Nick than I'd ever wanted to know about another boy. I also knew what their first time was like. It sounded like fun... eventually... and I had been looking forward to doing it myself. At the time, I didn't have a boy in mind but ever since JC kissed me the night before, he was the only one I wanted to touch me.

"I heard it hurts, but only for a second."

"Okay. I'm sorry if it hurts." Before I could answer, I felt him at the entrance to my body and lifted my hips to accept him. He moved slightly, thrusting gently, going deeper with each stroke, watching my face. He looked so scared, it made me almost laugh, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"I feel okay," I said, encouraging him. "It doesn't hurt much. You can go in more." He took instruction well, pushing further than before, then pulling back and pushing in and pulling back, until he was buried inside me and moving without obstruction, just delicious friction.

He smiled down at me. "We're having sex."

"Uh huh."

I couldn't say much more because I was in awe of him inside me, filling me up. I felt like I could feel every pulsing vein and throbbing muscle, not to mention my own body reacting to him, seemingly out of my control.

My body arched up to him, in rhythm with his thrusts. I heard moaning then realized it was coming from him. The sound of him enjoying himself, with me, inside me-I felt powerful.  That we'd done this with each other, for each other, meant the most to me.

"Fuck, Angie!" He yelped and then went wild, bucking and gyrating which made me buck my hips into him harder. Seconds later I felt what I can only describe as an explosion-like someone left a livewire inside me. I might have screamed, I don't remember... I did wrap my arms around JC's shoulders and hang on for dear life while he pounded into me until he gave out a loud moan and collapsed on top of me, dripping wet with sweat, hot to the touch and panting so hard I thought he was about to pass out.

Afterward we lay next to each other, both staring wide eyed at the ceiling. I couldn't help but smile, even through the aching at my core and the soreness in my thighs.

I had sex! I had sex with JC. Wow.

Eat your heart out, Stacey Rodriguez.

"Hey," I whispered to him. He grunted in reply but turned his head toward me.  "That was way better than I thought it would be. I'm so happy you were my first."

JC blinked a few times and then smiled. "Yeah," he answered, his voice gritty and weak. "Uhm... I'm glad you were my first too."

That, I think, was the first lie he ever told me.