Trouble

by melissaeverdeen13

Jackson and April are high school crushes doing what high school crushes do. Getting in trouble.

2. Chapter 2

Jackson and I slip out of the janitor's closet after the bell rings to switch classes. I squint against the fluorescent lights in the hall and do my best to smooth down my hair, but I'm not sure how well it works. Everything about me is sloppy; my shirt was French tucked before, and now it's wrinkled and loose at the bottom. No matter how much situating I do, it won't lay right. My face is hot and red; even my pants feel tighter.

"Hey," Jackson says, catching my attention. "You look fine."

A swarm of students passes and I back up against the wall, doing my best to catch my breath. That, much like the adjustment of my shirt, doesn't go well. I have a feeling my lips are swollen - they have to be. With how much he was kissing me, there's no way they aren't. "I doubt that," I say with a smile, eyes shining as he gets closer, prepared to kiss me again.

"Kepner! Avery! PDA!" Mr. Belton barks, foiling our plan.

Instantly, Jackson takes a step back and shoots me a sheepish look. "Oops," he says, then smirks. "Trouble."

"You are," I counter back. Then, the warning bell rings. "I gotta get to Calc," I say, glancing down the hallway to where my classroom is.

"Actually gonna go to class this time, skipper?" he teases.

"I always go to class," I say.

"Yeah, when you're not pulling me into closets, sure," he says, then takes my hand. "Hey. Maybe we can hang out later?"

"Um… maybe," I say. "I have volleyball. But I'll text you."

"Not if I text you first."

I roll my eyes playfully and ask, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Yeah," he says. "Strength and Conditioning. But looking at your face happens to be way better than looking at Kastran's. Can you blame me?"

"Hey, she's a fox," I say, trying to be serious. It's hard when he's looking at me in the way he is, though. "Okay, go!"

"Fine, shoo me away," he says, then takes my hand and squeezes it. "Talk to you later."

"Bye," I say, clutching my binder close to my chest as I hurry towards Mr. Esterline's classroom. I can't get the stupid smile off my face no matter how hard I try, and it's still there as I sit in a desk right next to my sister's.

"You look like a clown," she mutters, slumped in her seat as she flips through papers in her folder.

"Shut up," I say, looking down to try and compose myself.

"I totally saw you," she says.

My head darts up. "What?" I say, voice clipped.

She chuckles a little, raising her eyebrows in my direction. "I said, I saw you."

"What do you mean?"

"You and Jackson, all close in the hallway?" She nods. "I saw the hand-holding. I saw Belton yell at you for PDA. So, tell me everything."

My eyes dart to the front of the room where Mr. Esterline is making his way towards the whiteboard. "No!" I say.

"Yes!" Ashtyn insists. "I wanna know all the details. Why are you all flushed? Did you guys bang in the single-stall bathroom?"

"No!"

"The auditorium?"

"We didn't bang!" I say, eyes wide.

"I know you did something," she says suspiciously.

"I can't talk right now," I say through gritted teeth. "Later."

"I'm gonna hold you to that."

…

I play middle blocker in volleyball, which means I get the ball a lot of the time. Ashtyn usually has swimming after school, but today practice got canceled because a second-grader threw up in the pool during their gym class. So, today, she's in the bleachers on her phone while I try to make practice pass as quickly as possible.

"Nice hit, Kepner!" Coach Alkire calls when I make an especially good set. I smile to myself, proud to have executed it, then hear booing from the audience. I know it's my idiot sister, so I don't even look. I won't give her the satisfaction.

When it's time to break for water, I'm sweating and hair frizzing out of my ponytail sticks to my damp forehead. I do my best to wipe it away, but there's not much to be done in the way of controlling it. I take a long swig from my water bottle and look up, prepared to make an ugly face at Ashtyn, when I see Jackson sitting a few rows down from her. My eyes widen and an involuntary smile grows on my face; he's the last person I expected to see here.

I vaguely see my sister shaking her head at my change in expression, but I don't pay her any mind. I lift my hand in a small wave and he winks in return, which makes my stomach do its usual flips. "You're a beast out there," he says, cupping a hand around his mouth so his words carry.

I give him a playful shrug and a flip of my ponytail, then rejoin my team. I don't want to make a fool of myself now that I know he's watching me, so I work extra hard to make no mistakes. I act like a bit of a ball hog now and then, spiking it over when my teammates totally could've taken it, but it's worth it when I hear Jackson cheering.

When practice ends, Jackson's heavy footsteps down the bleachers get closer and closer to where I stand with my duffel bag. "Ball hog," he murmurs under his breath.

"Nuh-uh."

"Show off."

"Whatever," I say, grinning.

"Let the other girls have a turn every once in a while," he says. "Geez."

"Coming from you, that's really funny," I say, ribbing him.

"I am funny," he says. "But looks aren't everything." I roll my eyes at his stupid quip. "Loving the shorts, by the way."

I look down, suddenly hyper-aware of how short and tight my volleyball shorts are. I resist the urge to either pull my jersey down, which is nearly impossible, or try to adjust them. That would be way too obvious. "Thanks," I say. "Maybe the basketball team should switch uniforms with us."

"You wouldn't wanna see their asses in those, I guarantee," he says, shaking his head. "I need to bleach my imagination now."

"Maybe I just wanna see yours," I say, testing the waters with a sly tone.

He looks at me with interest. "The feeling is mutual," he says. "But… not my ass. I mean I wanna see… like, you. In the shorts."

"You're seeing me in them right now."

"I know," he says, then scrubs one hand down his face. "God. Forget I said anything."

I laugh a little and say, "I don't think I'll be able to."

"Great," he says. "Well… since practice is over, are you doing anything right now?"

I look past him and make eye contact with my sister, who's standing with her arms crossed and hip popped to one side. For her, that's patient. "I gotta get home…" I say. "I have homework and my parents are expecting us. So annoying. I'm sorry."

"Nah, it's cool," he says, then looks over his shoulder to where Ashtyn is. "Hey, twin," he says, waving.

"Hey," she responds. "April, can we leave yet?"

"One second," I say, then let my eyes shift to his lips. I wonder if we're supposed to kiss right now, or hug, or do nothing at all. Is right here the place to do it? Are we in the type of relationship where it's normal to kiss goodbye? I've never done this before. I have absolutely no clue how to act.

Then, voicing my thoughts, Jackson speaks up. "Can I kiss you goodbye?" he asks. "Just a little one… I know it's probably weird, you know, with your sister right there. But I just… I really wanna kiss you again."

"Yeah," I say, smiling with relief.

He cradles my sweaty face in his hands and kisses me softly, just once. We pull away and I blink my eyes open into his, and he presses his lips gently to the tip of my nose. "Have a good night," he says. "Text me."

"Can we go now?" Ashtyn gripes.

"I will," I say, interlacing our fingers and extending my arm as I walk away. We stay connected for as long as we can, laughing when we finally break apart.

"You are in so fucking deep," Ashtyn mutters as we head out of the gym. "It'd be cute if it weren't so gross."

"Jealousy doesn't look good on you."

"Yeah, whatever," she says. "If I gotta find someone to live through, it might as well be you. Tell me everything."

When we get inside the car, I spill. "I don't know what came over me," I say, excited by the memory alone. "I was in free period like, seriously obsessing. It was getting crazy. I couldn't stop thinking about kissing him, and before I knew it, I was in his class, telling Ms. Bonnette that the yearbook staff needed to interview him."

"You guys do interviews now?"

"No!" I say, pressing back against the seat as she pulls out of the parking lot. "I made it up, duh. He asked the same thing. And… well, I basically pulled him into the janitor's closet and we made out. I don't know how long. Maybe twenty minutes?" I press my hands to my cheeks. "It was amazing."

"Hell yeah, it was!" she says. "Holy shit. I can't believe you, of all people, did that."

"I know," I say, shaking my head. "But I've never felt like this before. He's taken over my entire brain."

"Yeah, what little you have," she jokes. Then asks, "You thinking about him right now?"

"Duh!" I say. "Kinda hard not to." I sigh and toss my head to the side, leaning against the window as it rattles. "I wish we could hang out."

"Why can't you?"

I furrow my eyebrows. "There's no way Mom and Dad will let me go over to his house, and I'm the worst liar ever. Even less likely they'll let him over to ours."

"Why do they have to know?" Ashtyn says, clearly up to something.

"What do you mean?" I ask, then realize what she's getting at. "Oh… this weekend…" This weekend, both of our parents are headed to a conference in the next state. Ashtyn and I will be left to our own devices from Friday night to midday Sunday. "I could invite him over then!"

"Yeah," she says. "And maybe some other people, too."

"No, I'm good with just him," I say.

"Not for you," she says. "A small party would be cool. We've never had one at our house before; it's definitely big enough. Come on, April, you know it would be fucking awesome."

"It would be stressful," I say. "I thought this was about me and Jackson."

"And what do you expect me to do while you guys go at it?" she asks. "Stand and wait outside my own bedroom door? Yeah, right. Having a party will make things more inconspicuous for you guys, anyway. And if you want people to know you're together… they'll definitely know."

"Wait," I say. "Are we together?"

"How should I know?" she counters. "Are you?"

"I honestly have no idea."

She pauses for a moment, then shrugs. "Well, that's fine," she says, then looks to me with excitement. "So… we're having a party."

I puff out my cheeks and let out a long stream of air. "I guess," I concede, then point a finger at her. "As long as it stays small."

…

Of course, the party does not stay small. I should've known better than to agree to a party in the first place and basically give my sister a reason to trash our house. At 8, she sends me to buy more plastic cups and I argue that she should go since she's the one with the driver's license, but she counters back that she needs to stay at the house because I'm too awkward to hang alone if people start arriving. So, I'm forced to take my bike to the gas station. When I coast back down our street and skid into the driveway, I notice how many guests are already here.

"Ashtyn, what the hell?" I say, after carefully parking my bike in the garage. I had wanted to tip it over on the grass, but was afraid it might get stolen by the end of the night. So, I took the responsible route, as usual. "There's a million people here!"

"Oh shut up, it's not a million," she says, rolling her eyes. She's already talking to a guy I don't recognize.

"I don't know half these people!" I say.

"Some of them are from Kingstown Prep, would you chill?" she says. "You're being annoying."

"Oh, I'm being annoying," I grumble, massaging my temples with two fingers each. Just as I open my mouth to say something else, the front door comes open and yet another flood of partygoers comes in. "More?!" I hiss. "This is crazy. We can't do this. We have to tell people to leave."

I clear my throat to make my voice louder, but before I can shout, Ashtyn gets a firm grip on my upper arm. "Don't," she growls. "You're being a pussy."

"It's very anti-feminist of you to use that as an insult," I point out.

"God, I wanna kill you so bad," she says.

"There's too many people here, Ash. It's gonna get crazy. We're already like one of those stereotypes from the movies. Really… the red plastic cups, the cheap booze? How did you even get that, anyway?"

"Izzie's brother is a sophomore at the community college and he hooked us up," she says. "You should be grateful. And you should be drinking, actually. It'll calm you down."

"I'm not drinking that nasty-ass beer," I say, scrunching up my nose.

"Yes, you are," she says. "Before your man gets here and sees you acting like a psycho."

"I don't appreciate the manipulation."

Her grip loosens on my arm. "April, honestly. Can you just have fun for once in your life? Let loose, and you'll like it. I swear. If you're still freaking in like, an hour, we'll tell people to leave. Okay?" I let out a long exhale from my nose and nod slowly. "Okay," she says. "Go get a drink. Laugh. Talk to people. Dance on a table."

"Oh, my god."

She laughs. "You know what I mean," she says. "Just go be a kid, for God's sake. Quit acting like Mom on a bad day."

I try to take her advice. I go to the drink station set up in our kitchen and, while I'm tempted to stick with regular lemonade, I go for Mike's Hard instead and it actually doesn't taste bad. I tell myself to quit after one, though; I'm not a drinker and I don't want to act messy when Jackson gets here.

He's taking forever. It's hard not to clean up after people when I see them leave their glasses in places they shouldn't, or drop wrappers on the floor. I do it as little as I can, but refraining entirely would be against my nature. So, when I lock eyes with Jackson for the first time, I'm on my knees with a rag, mopping up some spilled Sprite.

I smile instantly, unable to help it, and he smiles back as he makes his way through the crowd by the door. "Hey," he says, standing over me and extending a hand. "Your sister put you on cleaning duty, or something?"

"No," I say, taking his hand. Once I'm on my feet, I don't want to let go of it - so I don't. I set the rag down and our fingers stay awkwardly clasped, which makes us both giggle. "I just get a little obsessed."

"With cleaning? During a party?" he says, then adjusts our hands to fit together more comfortably.

"Sorry, sticky," I say. "Let me, um… let me wash mine." He stands by the sink as I run my hands under the faucet and I can feel his eyes steady on me. "I'm glad you came," I say.

"Sorry I'm late," he says. "My mom was chatting my ear off on my way out the door." He shakes his head and smiles. "She lets me do whatever I want, pretty much, but not without a thousand-year long conversation first. No hard drugs, no more than a few drinks, that kinda stuff."

"She sounds cool," I say. "My parents just kinda suspect that me and Ash don't do anything bad. Or, maybe they just don't wanna think about it. 'Cause they're not necessarily strict, but they definitely wouldn't be okay with this if they were home."

"Yeah, it got pretty big," he says, looking around. "But at least you have a nice place for a party."

"Thanks," I say, drying my hands as I face him again. "Um… so, do you want a drink? We could find someplace more quiet, too. I don't think anyone's out on the deck."

"Sure," he says, scanning the bucket of ice before pulling out a bottle of beer. I pick up a can of Diet Pepsi and wrap both hands around it, suddenly too nervous to reach for him again. "Not drinking?" he asks.

"I already had one before you got here," I say. "A lemonade. I don't wanna overdo it."

"I get that," he says. "Pop is good, anyway. Lead the way, hostess."

Once we're on the deck, it's just the two of us in the cool night air. I let my shoulders deflate - inside, I hadn't realized I was so tense. Everything feels better out here. I set my pop can down on the railing as Jackson cracks open his beer, then lean forward with both hands on the ledge.

"Pretty yard," he says, and I turn to smile at him. Then, he looks into my eyes and says, "Pretty girl."

"Cheesy," I say, cheeks heating up wildly. So much so, I have to look away.

"You never texted me," he says.

"I did," I say. "I told you about the party. You're here, aren't you?"

"Yeah…" he says. "But I mean like… texting, just to talk."

"Oh," I say. "You like that?"

"Doesn't everyone?" he asks.

"I didn't know it was a thing with guys."

"Well, maybe it's not," he says. "But it is for me when it comes to a girl I like."

"Oh," I say again. "Well… I can text you more often. I'd like that, too."

"I know the phone works both ways," he says, speaking quickly. "I didn't mean to sound like a dick. I just didn't know if you wanted… to talk like that, I don't know." He shrugs, trying to play it cool.

"I think we were both on the same clueless page," I say. "At least, now we're not."

"True," he says, his hand nearing mine. "I don't like being clueless."

"Yeah, me neither."

"It's definitely not something you're used to," he says. "With how smart you are, and all."

I scoff. "Yeah, smart."

"What do you mean?" he says. "You're in the Top 10, trying to tell me you're not smart?"

"There are other people way smarter," I say. "The teachers just like me."

"Not as much as I do," he says, and suddenly his hand his on top of mine, our fingers woven together.

I press my lips together and suppress a smile that would be scarily huge if I didn't. "I like you, too," I say, meeting his eyes for as long as I can - which is only for a fleeting moment.

"I've pretty much liked you for forever," he says.

"Wait, what?"

"Psh, you definitely knew," he says, bumping me with his hip. "Don't play that."

"No, I didn't!" I say, voice rising in pitch. "I seriously did not know. How would I have known? You'd barely ever spoken to me before Callie's party!"

"I wanted to," he says. "But my brain and my mouth would kinda go stupid when you came around. I just happened to get lucky that night. Still have no idea how."

"Stop messing with me," I say, moving so our upper arms are flush together.

"Why would I mess with you?" he asks.

"Because…" I say. "You're you and I'm me. And this isn't a movie."

"Yeah, I know," he says. "If it were, we'd have some twinkly lights out here or some shit."

I can't help but laugh. "Seriously," I say.

"Nah, I don't see why you think I'm playing," he says. "You can ask any of the guys. They were so sick of hearing me talk about you." I shake my head, smirking as we lock eyes. "What?" he says.

I let out a short sigh. "Just don't know where you came from," I say.

"Been lurking," he says. "Hiding in corners and shit, hoping you don't see me while kinda hoping you do. That kinda thing."

"You're a creep," I say, giggling.

"I've been called worse," he says.

Our eyes stay trained on each other for a long moment, then his flit to my lips subtly before darting back up again. I know what he wants, because I want the same thing - but I want him to initiate it. Luckily, he doesn't wait long. Using his free hand, he cups the side of my face and I close my eyes, ready to be kissed, but am instead interrupted by the sound of the slider coming open and a menagerie of voices joining our quiet bubble. When I open my eyes, it seems like half the house has found its way to the backyard and the bass is bumping; they don't even notice us.

"Shitty timing," Jackson mumbles.

"Um… let's go somewhere else," I say, picking up his hand to lead him inside. "I don't think anyone's upstairs. We can go to my room."

"Sure," he says, and we maneuver through the crowd on the lower level of the house to make our way there.

As I'm halfway up, I make accidental eye contact with my sister who wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, so I mouth shut up back. She mimics some sort of thrusting action, and I flip her the bird.

"What happened?" Jackson asks.

"Nothing," I say, pulling him harder until we're out of view of the party guests, walking down the substantially quieter upstairs hallway. When we get to mine and Ashtyn's room, I open the door and say, "This one's mine. Well… ours. I share it with my sister."

"Oh, that's cool," he says, walking in. I shut the door behind us and lock it for good measure - I don't want drunk idiots stumbling in here. "So, you guys are super close?"

"We kinda have to be," I say with a laugh. "No, I'm kidding. We really are. She's really cool most of the time."

"Bet it gets annoying when you guys fight and have to go back to the same bedroom."

"Well…" I say, giggling again. "Usually, she goes out for a drive, or something."

"And you get the room?"

"Yeah," I say. "'Cause I don't have my license yet."

"Ooh, newbie," he says. "Guess I'll just have to take you places, then."

"Yeah?" I say, sitting down on my bed. He follows suit. I can't believe that I have a boy in my room; this is surreal. "Where would you take me?"

"Anywhere you wanna go," he answers smoothly, turning to face me. "You tell me."

"I don't know…" I say softly, making it obvious that I'm staring at his mouth. I want to kiss him so bad. My entire body is hot. "Right now, I'm pretty happy here."

"Me, too," he says, then tucks my hair behind my ears with both hands. "April, can I kiss you?"

"Please," I say, and we both smile against each other's lips when we come together. At first, his hands are gentle and even tentative as they rest on my shoulders - then one moves as he buries his fingers in my curled hair. As his nails scrape my scalp, I can't help the small sound that escapes me and loses itself in his throat. I've never felt like this before, so worked up. Everything is moving so fast, but I don't want it to stop. Stopping is the last thing I want to do.

"You taste good," he says, finally pulling away.

"Vanilla mint Chapstick," I say, breathless.

"Let me get some more of that," he says slyly, and tilts his head against mine again. This time, he holds it more firmly between his hands and I love how strong he is, how capable. I willingly allow my body to turn to mush as he touches me, and before I know it, I'm on his lap as his back rests against the wall.

I've never been this close to another person, let alone a boy. I feel my pulse over every inch of my skin, and there's something hard prodding the inside of my thigh that I can only assume is his erection. A strange sense of pride washes through me as I settle my weight onto it, fully aware of what I'm doing to him. He only makes it more obvious by groaning against my neck as he kisses me there, fingers kneading the small of my back.

The movement of my hips starts off involuntary. At first, I don't even realize I'm doing it - I only become conscious when he grabs my waist with two sturdy hands, thumbs digging into my hip points. "This feels… you feel amazing," he tells me, pupils blown and eyes wild.

"I feel amazing," I murmur, then laugh against his ear, where I've found my lips. "I mean…" I laugh again. "I do feel amazing, but it's because of you."

"Just let me know if you wanna stop," he says, greedy hands moving south to rest over my ass. He yanks me closer and I squeal softly, arms tightening around his neck.

"I don't wanna stop," I say. "At all. Ever."

"Me, neither," he says, and I pull back only to yank off my shirt. Underneath, only a periwinkle bralette is left - lacy and girly. I had no idea he'd be seeing me shirtless tonight, but I'm glad I chose to wear it. "Holy shit," he says, unabashedly staring at my chest.

I'm not endowed with much and I probably never will be, but the way Jackson looks at me makes me feel more confident than I ever have. Suddenly, everyone who made fun of me for being flat-chested until sophomore year doesn't matter and never did. He's the only one who matters, because he's looking at me like I'm the sexiest, most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"If you want, you can…" I motion to my chest with my chin.

"Touch them?" he asks.

"Yeah."

I want his hands on me so bad. I don't know what to expect because I've never gone this far with a guy - this is my first time with everything - but nothing could have prepared me for the jolts running up and down my body when he cups my breasts, one in each hand. He looks at me briefly for approval and I nod him along, lips parted, and he gives them a solid squeeze. "Does that feel good?" he asks.

"Yeah, keep going," I say, widening my knees to lessen the space between our bodies even further.

"Mm, you're so…" he says, unable to finish his sentence before leaning forward and kissing my sternum. I arch my back to get my breasts closer to him, trying to communicate without words what I want him to do. And with quick eye contact, he understands. He winds his hands around my back and fumbles for the clasp of the bra only to find that there isn't one.

"Oh," I say. "It just goes over my head, like a shirt"

"Oh," he says. "Can I?"

"Do you want to?"

"Do you?"

I laugh a little. "Yeah," I say. "You can take it off me."

"Yeah," he says, then takes the fabric at my ribs in his hands before lifting it over my head. Once it's off, my nipples harden against the cool air, but I don't have the urge to cover up. I'm usually a modest person, but Jackson is taking me out of my shell in more ways than one tonight. "Jesus," he says, pulling me even closer. When he opens his mouth over one nipple and runs his tongue over the bud, a million shockwaves shoot to my groin and stay there. My hips start moving all over again as he digs his nails into my back, causing my breath to grow short and shallow as my brain fogs. I want to feel like this all night; or even better, forever. I never want him to stop touching me like he is right now.

So, I tell him as much. "Don't stop," I whisper, holding the back of his neck.

"Alright," he says, smiling against the swell of my breast. "I didn't really plan on it."

Soon enough, I get him out of his shirt, too. I'm not sure where this newfound sexual confidence is coming from, but I don't waste time questioning it. He makes me feel like the boldest version of myself; I barely remember what it's like to be unsure about anything. No wonder people rave about sex. We haven't even gone all the way, yet I'm on top of the world.

As the thought comes to mind, I speak without employing a filter. "Are we gonna have sex tonight?" I ask after he's laid me down. I'm topless, jeans still on, arms splayed above my head. There's an obvious bulge in the crotch of his pants that I want to see more of. The pulsing between my own legs has grown so hard to push aside that I can't help but squirm and press my thighs together.

He looks a little surprised, pulling back from where his face had been buried in my neck. One hand still stays on my breast, though, absently tracing the nipple. That only makes my arousal more insistent. "I… I don't know," he says. "If you don't want to, we don't have to."

"No, I do want to," I say surely, wrapping my arms around his waist. "Don't you?"

"Fuck yeah, I do," he says, and kisses me lightly. I cup his face after he does, tracing the apples of his cheeks with my thumbs.

"Are you a virgin?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No," he says. "But I've only done it once. With-"

"Don't tell me," I say, then playfully smack his chest. "That's like, rule number one."

"Oh," he says, chuckling. "I didn't know about the rules." He's quiet for a moment, eyes roaming my face, before he kisses my mouth again. "Are you one?"

"Huh?"

"Um, a virgin," he says. "Are you one?"

"Yeah," I say. "I thought that was pretty obvious."

"Still good to ask, I thought," he says. "So… I don't really know what that means. Are you freaked out? Should I like… do something different or special?"

"It already is special, you goof," I say, running my fingers through his hair. "Stop overthinking. You sound like me." He laughs against my mouth and lowers his weight between my legs. "Just keep doing what you're doing. I like it a lot."

"Alright."

"Am I doing a good job?" I ask, hating myself for sounding so insecure. "Like, does it feel good to you?"

"Everything you do is fucking amazing," he tells me, kissing a path from my chin down between my breasts, where my heart hammers wildly. "Everything you say… and how you kiss me, and your body is just… damn. Yeah." He looks at me with molten eyes and I practically come right on the spot. I swear I could. "You're great."

"You're great," I whisper, then take a deep breath as he unbuttons my jeans and slides them down my legs with care. Pretty soon, only my underwear is left - and I realize they have tiny little Hello Kitty heads patterned all over them. "Oh, god," I say, covering my face with my hands. "I wanna die."

He laughs, which makes his shoulders shake. He kisses below my belly button and around my hip bones, tracing the waist of the underwear with his thumbs. "I like them," he says, lips moving against the fabric. I've never been touched there before, so my body flinches with the contact.

"Sorry," I whisper.

"It's okay," he replies, just as quiet. "If you wanna stop, just tell me. Okay?"

"Yeah."

"Like, for real," he says. "You can just say it. I won't be mad."

"Do you want to stop?"

"No, fuck no," he says. "I just don't wanna be that douche who, like… forces a virgin to, like…"

"Jackson," I say. "I want this so bad. If it's too much, I'll say something. Trust that I will. But I really, really want this."

"Alright," he says, then smiles as he kisses my core again - over the cotton. "I was about to say something really cheesy."

"Say it," I tell him.

He shakes his head at himself. "When these come off, it'll be like… hello, kitty."

"Oh, my god…" I groan, drawing out the words. "That's the worst thing I've ever heard. Literally ever."

"Told you it was bad," he says, taking his own jeans off. They join mine on the floor in seconds and he's back to where he was, head between my legs.

"Come up here with your dad jokes," I say, extending my arms. I don't know if I'm ready for oral yet. The concept of his tongue there is a little terrifying. What if I taste or smell bad? What if he's totally grossed out? I took a shower earlier today, but what if I'm still not clean enough? I'm not ready. I need to prepare for something like that.

I feel his erection pressing against my inner thigh, so I wrap my legs around his waist to bring it closer. As we kiss, I urge my hips against his and he responds, growing and groaning into my mouth. "You're gonna make me come in my shorts," he mumbles, kissing the corner of my lips.

"Let's take them off, then," I say, reaching to shimmy out of my underwear. He does the same, then we're both naked. I expected the world to shift or my mind to explode, but neither of those things happen. I'm naked with a boy, a boy I really like, and that's it. Nothing has changed about me except for that. "I'm ready," I say, eyes flashing between his penis and his eyes. It's hard not to stare. I've never seen one in real life before, only in the Snapchats that Ashtyn sometimes gets, unsolicited. His is so much better than those. It's big and not at all unattractive, just foreign. If it weren't so weird to do, I'd spend longer looking at it. I don't think that's normal, though, so I try and keep my eyes on his face.

"Yeah?" he says.

"Uh-huh," I say, widening my legs so he has enough room.

He smiles and kisses me slow, petting my hair back after he does. "Okay," he says. "Just tell me if…"

"I know."

Then, he pushes inside me. Very slowly and with intent, he watches himself as he goes, maybe to make sure he's doing it right, I don't know. The feeling isn't so pleasant on my end, but I power through. I've never had something inside me, and it doesn't feel natural. Not necessarily painful, but definitely not euphoric like the books and movies make it seem. Nowhere near as amazing as everything else we were doing. After he's fully in, I can't help but wonder what all the fuss over penetrative sex is about. This is it? I don't feel much except for a big twinge and a whole lot of pressure. I don't know if I'll be able to handle it when he moves.

Suddenly, he pulls out. "What're you doing?" I ask.

"Your face," he says. "I saw it. I was hurting you." He pauses for a moment. "I was, wasn't I?"

"Well…" I say, adjusting my hips. I put a pillow under the small of my back, thinking maybe it will help. "A little. But it's my first time. I think that's just kind of how it goes."

"I don't want it to hurt, April," he says.

"Didn't it feel good for you?"

"Yeah," he says. "But it's fucked up if I come and you're laying there just enduring it, waiting for me to be done."

"It's not gonna be like that," I say, placing both hands on his chest. "I just have to get used to it. I don't…" I scoff at myself. "This is embarrassing, but I don't even use tampons. I'm not used to things up there. I just need a little time."

"Promise to tell me if it hurts too much."

"I promise," I say, running my nails down his arms. "Go again."

He does. This time, even slower. The pain is lessened - still there, but not quite as bad. I take deep breaths as he sinks all the way in, and close my eyes to try and center myself. It's a new feeling, but I think I can grow to like it. "You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say, craning my neck for a kiss that he readily gives me. "You can move now."

His hips start out rocking slowly, but increasingly pick up speed as time passes. I don't get the amazing, orgasmic feeling that I was expecting, but decide that it's okay. I can tell by his face that it's great for him, and that's enough for me. It doesn't last long, anyway. Barely a few minutes pass before he jolts, gritting his teeth together as his pelvis bucks and spasms against mine. I wrap my arms around him as he comes and kiss his shoulder and neck repeatedly, trying to get as close as humanly possible.

He's breathing heavily once he comes down and pulls out, then looks at me with concern. "You didn't…" he says, a sheen of sweat on his chest.

"It's okay," I say, brushing it off.

"No, it's not," he says, eyebrows knitting together. "I can make you come, April. You want me to?"

"Well, yeah," I say. "But I don't think it's gonna happen that way."

"No, I won't do it like that," he says, and kisses my cheek as he gets comfortable beside me. He cups my core with one hand and rubs me slowly, firmly, and I can't help but twitch against him.

"Oh," I moan softly, turning on my side so our noses are centimeters apart. "Yeah, that feels… that feels good."

"Good," he says, and presses his lips to mine as he swirls circles around my clit with his thumb. We don't break apart as he fingers me, breathing through our noses as my hips work against his hand, and when I come - I come hard. I clench his hand between my thighs and press my lips together to quell the loud groan that wants to come out. Instead, the squelched sound gets lost in his neck as he holds me and lets me ride it out.

"Holy shit," I breathe, opening my eyes to stare at his chest.

"Yeah," he says. "That's what it's supposed to feel like. I'm sorry… um, that it was shitty, when I…"

"It wasn't your fault," I say.

"It kind of was."

"No, it wasn't," I say, then look to his face. "It just gives us a reason to practice."

He laughs and kisses my forehead, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to keep me close. "I like that," he says.

I exhale softly and close my eyes for a moment, enjoying just being here with him - twined together and naked. It's a different, new sort of trust and bond that I've never had before, so I try to figure it out while soaking it in. The solace doesn't last for long, though; moments later, the doorknob shakes and someone knocks loudly, over and over again.

"April!" Ashtyn barks. "Open up, I know you're in there. Stupid ass Owen broke Grandma's vase. It's literally all over everywhere and we are going to fucking die!"

I sit up halfway, Jackson's arm still slung over my bare waist. "What?" I call.

"Everyone is leaving!" she shouts. "Get out here and help me clean this up. I'm having a full-ass meltdown!"

"Shit," I say, climbing out of bed and pulling my clothes back on haphazardly. "Um…" I look to Jackson, who's confusedly sitting up.

"Sounds like shit hit the fan down there," he says.

"Yeah," I sigh. "I gotta help her. Um… you…" I can't picture him staying. Would he sleep over? Where would we sleep? Surely not in the bed feet away from Ashtyn's. I'm ready for some time alone now. It's not that I didn't love being with him, because I did. But I can only process things when I'm by myself, and I'm on sensory overload right now.

"I'll get out of your hair," he says.

"You don't have to," I say. "If you wanna stay, you can… um, I'm just not sure…"

"Hey, it's cool," he says, pulling his shirt on. "Honestly. I'm not being weird or anything. It just seems like you have a lot of shit to take care of."

"Yeah, definitely…" I say, rubbing my arms self-consciously. He puts on his shoes and I lead the way to the bedroom door.

"Are you coming?" Ashtyn asks impatiently.

I ignore her. "I'll actually text you this time," I say, grabbing his hands. He smiles at me, then we kiss. When his lips touch mine, the strange, awkward feeling goes away for a moment. I wonder if it's normal to feel this way after having sex with someone for the first time. It's like I don't know how to act anymore, when ten minutes ago I was just fine.

"You better," he says, then I open the door.

Ashtyn raises her eyebrows but barely looks surprised. "Finally, horndogs," she says.

"Shut up," I murmur, and walk Jackson to the front door. "Get home safe," I say. "Text me when you get there?"

"Yeah," he says. "I'll find some memes to send you, or something." He smiles that magic smile. "Um… I had a nice time tonight. Like, really nice. You were awesome. You… are awesome."

"You, too," I say, blushing. What do you say to someone after they take your virginity? Thank you? That seems wrong. But so does everything else. "See you soon."

As soon as the door closes, Ashtyn runs to the window to watch him leave after hopping over the shards of glass on the floor. After his car pulls out of the driveway, she turns to me with wide, crazy eyes. "Did he take your V-card?" she asks.

I tie my hair into a bun and pull the broom out of the cleaning closet in the hall. I press a palm to my forehead, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. Then, I calmly state, "I don't really wanna talk about it right now."

…

At first, I don't know how to act around Jackson at school. We make quick eye contact like we always used to, but I have a sense that everyone must know what we did - although, no one cares that much. I know, logically, nothing has changed on the outside. No one will look at me and know that I had sex. But everything on the inside is different. I think about sex way more, and I want to try it again. But at the same time, I'm nervous to even ask him how he's feeling. It's a stupid place to be stuck in. I usually know myself so much better than this.

So, I go into defense mode. I feel like part of the club now, the non-virgin club, but at the same time somehow like I don't belong. I let a few weeks pass where I avoid Jackson entirely - feigning being busy or dodging him before he sees me in the hall. I know it's not right; I tell him I'm tired a lot over text, which isn't a lie. School is kicking my ass, but it always does. There's nothing new there. I just have too much on my mind, but simultaneously don't want to talk about it. I just have to work through it on my own, then everything will go back to normal. I just need time, and no one seems to understand that. Not even my sister, who never stops asking me what's wrong.

Today in Calculus is no different. I'm working on a set of problems while Mr. Esterline goes over notes, but Ashtyn leans over to talk in my ear. "Hey," she whispers. "You good?"

"Fine," I say.

"You don't look so hot."

"Thanks."

"You haven't been acting yourself for like, the past month," she says.

"Yeah, I know."

"Is it 'cause you banged Jackson?"

I look at her, exasperated. "I don't wanna talk about it right now."

"Well, you don't wanna talk about it any other time, so I thought I would try while you can't run away," she says.

"I'm trying to get this done," I say, looking back to the paper and the problem I've been staring at for the better part of ten minutes. "Leave me alone."

"Damn," she says, backing away. "Fine, be a bitch. I'm just trying to help."

I shake my head and roll my eyes, then hear my name. "April, the office would like to see you," Mr. Esterline says, placing his desk phone back on its holster. "They said to bring your things."

"Are you getting signed out?" Ashtyn asks, but I'm just as confused as she is.

"I don't know," I say, gathering my binder, folder, and textbook. "I'll text you."

"Tell Mom to get me, too."

I ignore her last statement and keep my head down as I walk out of the classroom and towards my locker. I put my homework in my backpack and walk to the office with it on my back, stomach lurching with nerves for a reason I'm not even sure of. It's probably just a dentist appointment that I forgot - nothing more. Then why does it feel like I'm headed to the gallows?

I walk into the office and everything is strangely silent. The secretary looks at me and says, "Mrs. O'Connell is in her office with your mother," she says. "You can head on in."

"My mom?" I ask, but we both know it's a rhetorical question. I open the door to the office to find my mom in one of the chairs opposite the principal's desk, and Mrs. O'Connell looking at me with concern - though, it's masked with cordial politeness.

"April, it's nice to see you," she says.

"What's going on?" I ask, standing awkwardly between the empty chair and the one my mom is in.

"You should sit down," she says.

"Mom, are you okay?" I ask. I look at her, wondering if she's sick or something. She looks normal, the same as she always does. Plus, why would she tell me that here? I know Ashtyn is fine, I just saw her. "Is it Dad?"

"Dad's fine," she says, but she's been crying.

"Grandma?" Suddenly, I picture my grandma dying weeks after we broke the vase she gifted my mom and dad on their wedding day. I want to throw up.

"It's nothing like that," Mom says, and I feel at least a small sense of relief. "Sit down, April."

I obey, sitting at the very edge of the chair with my backpack still on. I look at my mom, expecting her to tell me what's happening, but she's staring at Mrs. O'Connell seemingly waiting for the same thing. I've never been so confused or afraid in my life. "April," the principal begins, finally breaking the crackling silence. "I called both you and your mom in today for an important reason. I already told your mom everything… I thought it would be a little dramatic to break the news to both of you at once. Um…" She clears her throat. "You'll have to excuse me. There's really no protocol for this, but seeing as you're 17 and underage, it was pertinent that your mother hear the news first and be here when I told you. Because I assume you aren't aware."

"Aren't aware of what?" I ask, glancing between them again. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Mrs. O'Connell sighs. "The blood drive two weeks ago," she says. "You gave blood. Do you remember?"

"I always give blood," I say. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"Well, not really," she says. "But in a way, for you, yes. You shouldn't have given blood in the first place - not this year."

"Why?" I ask. "I'm not on any meds. I'm healthy. I don't have anemia or anything like that; this makes no sense. I've been giving blood for three years, this was my fourth. There's never been anything wrong with my blood before." Fear jolts through my system yet again. "Wait. Do I have cancer, or something? Am I sick?"

"No," Mom says, finally speaking up and lifting her head. She looks right into my eyes when she says, "April, you're pregnant."