The first time you meet Madison you're 14, fresh out of junior high, boy crazy. She comes to change the way you look at other girls, other women. It isn't jealousy but something that reminds you a little of how you feel when you look at Zack from Saved By The Bell, stomach burning and cheeks pink.

When you're 16 you get drunk and kiss her. She flips you onto your back and straddles you, her hot mouth leaving a damp trail of kisses on your neck. You were both hammered and the memory is clouded but you're pretty sure it didn't go much further.

Two years later, you find her alone at senior prom. You haven't talked to her since the Brent Edwards drama and you're still mad but you love her too, and even more you hate seeing her upset. She's sitting outside the women's bathroom, dress rumpled, clutching a thermos of what you assume is vodka.

"Maddie."

"Becks, just leave me alone."

"What happened?" You sit at her side, smoothing her dress down over her thighs.

"My date left. Not a big deal. I didn't even know him."

You steal a gulp of what is most definitely vodka and orange juice and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Wanna get out of here?"

You take her back to your place. Your parents are at party so you have apartment to yourselves. She's a little drunk, not like you both were the last time, not enough that she's stumbling, but enough for her to be the one to kiss you this time.

It's sloppy and wet and up against your bedroom door, but it's exactly what you need. You're both in colorful, shimmering floor-length dresses and you imagine that must be a beautiful image. Her thumbs brush over your nipples through the fabric and you shiver, immediately reaching for the zipper on the back of her gown.

"It sticks. Let me turn around."

You manage to peel it off her then, pushing it down until it falls into a beautiful circle of silk at her feet. You pull her back to your chest, stroking over her stomach and lace-covered breasts. She moans when you push her hair away and start to kiss her neck with a reverence you're pretty sure you've never paid to any boy.

Her bra comes off, and then your dress, and this time you're straddling her in the center of your canopy bed. Her nails rake over your ass and you whimper into her mouth. She pushes your underwear down around your thighs, tries to flip you.

"No. Maddie, no."

You pin her with two firm hands on her abdomen and she nods.

You kiss down her chest, pausing to suck at each of her nipples, down her stomach, her hips. You take her underwear down now, just lightly kissing over her at first, reveling in the breathy sounds she's making. Her thighs come around to bracket your head as you breathe her in, part her with two fingers and feel the wet heat of her.

"Kate."

Your mouth finds her clit while your fingers finally slide inside her, curling faster faster faster until she traps your head between her legs and screams into the darkness of your bedroom.

She's tired after that, her eyes straining to stay open from the alcohol and the orgasm, but you kiss her, let her taste herself. She grabs your face and then your whole body and just holds you to her while you both drift into the soft bliss of sleep.

You wake up maybe half an hour later and move so you're both tucked under your comforter, spooning. You brush the hair out of her face and start to doze off again.

You can hear it though, the faint, sleepy whisper that escapes her lips.

Love you, Becks.