Kids In Love

by melissaeverdeen13

April and Jackson are both freshmen at DePaul University. She has a crush on Alex Karev, and enlists Jackson's help in getting him to notice her - in exchange for writing all of his papers for the quarter. In a clever ploy, he pretends to date her in until it catches Alex's attention or until the end of the quarter. There's just one rule: don't fall for each other.

5. Chapter 5

APRIL

My stomach is in knots as I sit on my perfectly made bed with my phone open in my palm, waiting for Alex's text that says he's downstairs.

I swing my legs and kick my storage units under my bed repeatedly, and they make a soft hollow sound each time. I bite the inside of my lower lip, chewing it from nervousness, and smooth down my hair. I got this. I totally got this. I've been practicing enough with Jackson to know how to act around boys. I'm not going to make myself look like a fool. I totally have this in the bag.

I feel like I might throw up when his text finally comes. Okay, maybe I don't totally have this in the bag.

I send back a smiley face and hop off my bed, walking to the elevator with wobbly knees. I take deep breaths as I descend four floors, then ground myself when I step off. I see him with his hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched as he waits by the front desk, and I walk his way.

"Hey," I say, smiling.

"Hey," he says back.

I sign him in, handing both of our DePaul IDs to the desk receptionist. After I scan mine to get back in, I smile at him again and am just so glad that he's here. I can't wait to get to know more than what's on the surface and have an actual conversation with him.

"How was your day today?" I ask, walking through the fourth floor hallway. "This is me, right here."

I push open my door and shut it behind us after he walks in.

"Um, you can take your shoes off right there," I say, pointing to the throw rug by the door. "It just gets dirty in here. Yeah. Thanks."

"Um, my day was good," he says, lingering in the doorway.

It dawns on me that there's not really a place to sit besides on my bed. There's my desk chair, but that seems so formal and also uncomfortable. So, I do what a polite hostess should do.

"Wanna sit?" I ask. "My bed's pretty comfortable."

He eyes me, and I'm not sure why. I hope I'm not making him feel awkward.

"Are you thirsty? Do you want something to drink?" I kneel down to look inside my mini-fridge. "I have water, La Croix, lemonade-"

"I'm good, but thanks," he says, sitting down.

"Oh, okay," I say, and take in a deep breath as I hop up to join him on the bed. It's a somewhat comforting feeling that he's not the first boy in my room, on my bed, but his presence is different than Jackson's. I can't put my finger on exactly why, but it just is.

Jackson is so familiar now that he makes this space his own. Almost to the point of being annoying, but not really. He's here so much that I don't have to worry about accommodating him. But now, here with Alex, I can't help stressing about every little thing.

"So… you're doing a lot better in music theory," I say, raising my eyebrows. "I was really noticing that the other day. I meant to tell you."

He half-smiles. "Yeah?" he says. "Really?"

"Yeah!" I say enthusiastically.

"You're fucking with me," he says. "I don't know what's going on in that class. You're basically the only one who does. Well, and Avery, but that's only because of you."

I scoff. "Well, yeah."

He scoots a little closer to me. "What's up with you two, by the way?" he asks. "Are you guys still dating?"

Suddenly, the memory of the pool comes rushing back to me, and I itch my head uncomfortably. "Well, yeah, no," I say. "We're… no. Not… not anymore."

"Oh," he says, nodding to himself. "That was quick."

"Yeah," I say, wanting to get off this subject. "It was nice to see you at the game today, by the way. It was cool of you to stop by."

"Like I said, I saw you sitting there," he says. "Wait… so if you and Avery aren't dating, why were you there watching him play?"

I shrug. "We're friends," I say. "That's all."

"Hmm," he says.

"What?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Nothing. I just… dude seems to think you're more than that."

I scrunch up my face. "What do you mean?"

Alex raises his upper lip. "Are you blind? Have you seen the way that guy looks at you?" He shakes his head. "You might wanna straighten him out on that."

There's no way that I can just come out and tell Alex that those looks are all for our act, so I try and divert. "But yeah, like I was saying," I continue. "I might even tell Professor Torres how much you've improved. It's really good, Alex. People look over you, I can see that. But… I just wanted you to know that somebody knows what kind of stuff you're capable of. That I know."

There's a weird, charged moment between us where we stare into each other's eyes. I don't know what's happening, I can barely register the situation before his hands are cupping my cheeks and his lips are pressed against mine.

Kissing him is different than kissing Jackson, that's for sure. His hands are rougher, his skin is dry, and he smells stronger. It's not entirely unpleasant, just different. When he pulls away, he's still holding my cheeks and I'm sure my facial expression is a mixture of bewilderment and happiness, because that's what's all stirred up in my body right now. I hadn't planned on that happening tonight, but I'm not fighting it. Alex just kissed me. Alex seriously just kissed me.

And thanks to Jackson, I wasn't a complete idiot about it. I actually knew what I was doing - to a certain degree, at least.

After we make eye contact for a prolonged moment, he dives for my lips again. Our body movements aren't fluid and practiced like the way I'm used to, but my heart is beating just as fast as he pulls my sweater off over my head, leaving me in just my white camisole.

Breathlessly, I say, "You know I'm a… a… I've never, um… This is my first time."

"You wanna stop?" he asks.

I blink my eyes hard and shake my head. If I say no, I know I'll never get this chance with him again. He probably won't ever even look at me again. I want this. I tell myself that I want this. "N-no," I say. "No, I don't wanna stop, I just-"

Before I can finish, he's kissing me again and pulling my camisole over my head. I lift my arms and stare at him, panting, as he pulls off his own t-shirt.

Once I'm in my bra and he's in an undershirt, we start kissing again. His lips are a little chapped, but I try to stop over-analyzing things and just let my body work this out, but it's hard. I can't stop comparing him to Jackson. Why won't Jackson get out of my stupid head?!

Just as that thought crosses my mind, he maneuvers me like I weigh nothing so I'm lying down with my head on my pillow. He has one strong hand on my ribcage, holding me in place, and I have one wrapped awkwardly around the back of his neck. I don't really know where to place it, so it feels like it's suspended in midair. I don't know his body like I know Jackson's.

God, Jackson. Get out of my head.

He keeps kissing me, rough and sloppy. Then he moves down to my neck, and I wriggle underneath him to get his attention. "Can we just go, uh… slower?" I ask, bending my neck to look at him after he's pulled away.

"What?" he mutters.

I'm breathing hard, so it's hard to get my words out. "Can we please just go a little… sl-slower?" I ask, and his hand deftly skims up my side to hold my armpit, which is a bit strange. "Just… I need, I…I'm…"

"What? What, what do you need?" he asks, his tone clipped and annoyed. "What do you need from me?" I blink hard, pulling my face away from his. "If you wanna fuck, let's fuck. If you don't, then… I'm out. I'm not gonna hold your virgin hand and walk you through it, that's not why I came here. Look, April, you seem great and shit, but I thought we both knew what was gonna happen tonight. And it wasn't me sitting here teaching you."

He gets up off the bed and roughly puts his clothes back on, then walks out the door. I'm left lying on my bed in my bra and leggings, wondering what I did wrong. I didn't ask to sleep with him, that was actually the last thing I expected to happen. He started it, and he got mad when I didn't want it. What kind of person does that?

I feel so small. I feel so stupid. Why would I think that a guy like him would be interested in someone like me?

I shakily sit up on my bed and pull a loose t-shirt on. I get up and stand in the middle of my room, unsure of what to do now. I don't know what the next step is. I just want to go to sleep and forget that all of this happened, but my bed is all rumpled from what we just did and I can't look at it. I have to wash those sheets, but I can't bring myself to touch them right now.

I find myself walking out the door, down the hallway towards Jackson's room. I don't know what I'm looking for really, but I don't want to talk to Addison and Amelia about this. Because of the fact that they think mine and Jackson's relationship is real, they wouldn't get it. And I'm not about to explain the whole thing.

I knock on his door and wonder if he'll answer. He seemed pretty mad at me earlier, though I don't know why. Luckily, I'm not standing out in the hallway long before he appears, wearing pajamas and looking confused.

"Hey… hey, what's wrong?" he asks, his eyebrows turning up in a concerned expression.

That's all it takes. Those kind, caring words are all I need for the waterworks to start. "Jackson," I sob, reaching out for him.

He takes me in his arms and leads me inside, guiding me to sit down on his bed. "What is it?" he asks, one arm around my shoulders. I swallow and keep my eyes forward as I catch my breath, but then start hysterically crying all over again. "What happened?" he asks again.

I can barely speak I'm crying so hard, but I do manage to get one word out. "Alex," I sob.

He pulls away to look at my face, ducking a bit so I'll meet his eyes. But I don't, I can't - I think I might be incapable of it right now. I feel dirty and used and so immature. I don't know what I was expecting with Alex hanging out in my room, but it wasn't that. But even though I hadn't been expecting it, I would've been willing to go along with what he wanted if he hadn't made me do so much so fast. It caught me off guard, and now everything is ruined.

My mind is spinning, jumping into the future and imagining how I'll have to interact with him in class on Monday. I can't do it. I already know I can't do it. I wish none of this would've happened, I wish I would've never had a stupid crush on him in the first place.

Jackson was right, he is a douche. Why didn't I see it before? Why would he rush me into something like that?

"April, you're shaking," Jackson says, rubbing my outer arm. "What the fuck did Alex do to you?"

I breathe shakily and wipe my eyes, turning to look at him. His face is concerned - eyes wide and mouth set firmly.

"Did he touch you?" he asks, eyebrows creasing together.

I clasp my hands together and say, "N-no." Then I rethink it. That's a lie. "Well, yeah…"

His whole body tenses. "What?" he snaps, his voice low and threatening. "He did?"

"I-I…" I stammer. I curl my hair behind my ears and feel his eyes burning into me. "He did, but… I wanted him to. Until I didn't, I don't know."

I start to cry again, and Jackson unwinds his arm to fully face me. "Okay, April. What did he do? Tell me what happened."

I try and catch my breath as I shake my head. I feel so ashamed and so stupid. I don't want Jackson to think I'm a bad person because of what I let Alex do, because of what I did. That was so unlike me. I don't know what came over me. I just wish it had never happened, I just want to go back and erase it.

"You can tell me," he says gently.

I wipe the tears from my eyes so my vision clears, and see him looking at me with a kind and attentive expression.

So far, Jackson is my best friend here. Amelia and Addison are fine, but I don't feel safe around them like I do with him. He knows so much more about me than they do, and I like that. I like having someone here who I can trust, and he's a good person. Contrary to what I initially thought, he has a good heart. He's shown me that time and time again.

"He came over," I begin, my breath hitching in my throat. "And… and we were talking a little. It was nice. I liked it. He was different than he is around a group of people, like… he was nice. I thought that it was going really well, then he kissed me."

Something flashes across Jackson's eyes, but I can't tell what it is. I keep going.

"He kissed me, then he pulled my-my sweater off," I say, the lump growing in my throat. "I told him that…" I sigh. I'm sure Jackson has put my nonexistent sexual history together by this point, seeing as I'd never really kissed anyone before him, but I still feel like a baby saying it out loud. "I told him that I'm a virgin, and he asked me if I wanted to stop. I guess that was nice of him, and I said no… and he pulled my cami off and we were kissing and all I did was ask him to slow down and he freaked out." I shake my head roughly. "I didn't want that. I maybe would've liked to kiss him, but… I wasn't ready for that. I think he-"

"He wanted to have sex with you," Jackson says, practically growling. "You wanted to slow down, and he was trying to force you."

"I… he- I don't know if it was like that," I say, my voice still waterlogged. "I just felt so… I feel so dirty. I didn't want him to do that. I didn't want it to go that far. I didn't… I don't know what I wanted, but it wasn't that." I start to sob again. "It really wasn't that."

Jackson wraps both arms around me and I melt against his chest, crying fat tears onto the front of his pajama shirt. He presses a comforting kiss against the top of my head, and that only makes me cry harder.

"It's all my fault," I say. "You were right, I'm sorry. I should've listened to you."

He holds me at arm's length to look into my face. "Don't say you're sorry," he says. "I don't want you to apologize, that's fucked up. This wasn't your fault." I'm silent, finding it hard to meet his eyes. "Okay?" he prompts.

"Okay," I say, wiping beneath my eyes with my pointer fingers.

"I want you to stay here," he says, standing up from the bed and kneeling down to put on his tennis shoes. With his back to me, he strips off his pajama shirt and throws on a more presentable t-shirt. "I'm gonna be right back."

I scoot to the edge of the bed and blink the tears out of my eyes. "Where're you going?" I ask.

He pulls the bottom of his shirt to adjust it. "Just out for a second," he says.

He's out the door just as I'm standing up, ready to ask more questions. But even as I call after him down the hallway, he doesn't look back. I have no idea where he's off to, but I'm pretty sure he's going to look for Alex. The look in his eyes worried me. It didn't look like that of someone who was going to do something rational.

I sit on his bed for a long time, almost an hour passes. I wonder where Mark is, then come to the conclusion that he's probably out partying. Just as I'm about to get up and go back to my room with my disheveled, tainted bed and bad memories, the lock clicks and Jackson walks in, looking a bit worse for wear.

I stand up instantly, crinkling my forehead. He's sweating and his shirt is sticking to him in weird places, and he has a violent frown on his face.

"What happened to you?" I ask urgently, taking one step closer.

He strips off his shirt and makes no moves to put on a new one. I cement my eyes to the floor.

"Nothing," he says, shaking out his hands. I glance at them and see that the knuckles on the right one are bloody and swollen.

"That's a lie!" I say, rushing forward. "What's with your hand?" I hold it by the wrist and he winces when I apply pressure. I lift my eyes to meet his and state, "You punched him."

"I-"

"You need ice," I say. "I have some in my room. Come with me. Uh… and put on a shirt."

He doesn't fight me. He puts on a different t-shirt and follows me to my room. When we get inside, I force myself not to look at my bed and kneel down to my mini-fridge instead, gathering ice cubes in a Ziploc bag.

"Hold this on your hand," I say. My eyes feel creaky from crying, and I'm exhausted. But I'm not going to sleep without hearing what he did. "I'm just going to strip my bed and throw all this in the laundry. I'll be back."

I do as I said I would and come back to my room to find him sitting on the bare mattress, looking down at it.

"I-I'm sorry," I say. "I just didn't… I wanted them fresh, I didn't-"

"Don't have to explain," he says, shaking his head.

I sigh and stand across from where he sits. "Tell me what you did," I say.

Jackson flops onto his back while keeping the ice on his hand. "Doesn't matter," he says. "It's over now. Not even worth talking about."

"Yes, it is worth it," I insist. "I want you to tell me."

He sighs and tests me, keeping prolonged eye contact. I don't relent, and he gives in. "Fine," he says. "I found him. I punched him in the fucking face."

"You wh-"

"A few times," he says. "He fell over, then I kicked him. He got up and was gonna come at me, but decided against it. Probably the best decision he's ever made in his fucking life."

My eyes are wide as I stare at him, letting his words sink in. "Jackson…" I say. "You could get in serious trouble. Why… why would you do something like that?"

He narrows his eyes, looking at me like the answer's obvious. "Because he hurt you," he plainly states. "He deserves way worse than what I did to him. Maybe someday I'll go cash that in." He clenches his jaw and I see his cheeks swell slightly. "He's a piece of shit. I can't believe he thought he could… no. You know what, no. I can't think about it, because if I do I'm going to run out of here and go find him again and probably beat him to death."

"Jackson…" I say.

"Stop," he retorts. "I don't regret it."

"We're gonna have to see him in class on Monday," I say. I know it's a feeble excuse, but it's all that's running through my head.

"He won't be there," Jackson says confidently. "He's a pussy. He'll drop."

I purse my lips. "Don't say that word."

He opens his mouth to argue, but chooses not to. We spend a moment searching each other's faces, wondering what to do next. I have no clue where we stand. Our endpoint of whatever we were doing is depleted now. We have no reason to continue hanging around each other. Having a friend like him was fun while it lasted, but I guess I can go back to only writing my own papers now.

I scratch my head and shift my weight from foot to foot. "So…" I trail off. "I guess, thanks for doing that. And thanks for doing…" I make a circular gesture with one hand. "All this. Helping me. I guess I'll see you around."

He squints at me, looking very confused. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he asks.

My mouth hangs open a little bit. "We only did this to get Alex's attention," I say. "It obviously didn't work. So… you're off the hook. You don't have to-"

"April, we're friends," he says. "I'm not just gonna stop hanging out with you because that fucker hurt you. I like you. I mean, as-as a friend. I spend like, all of my time with you. If we stopped hanging out, dude, I'd be a loner." He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. "I mean, if you still wanna hang. If you don't want to, I'll totally leave you alone. But I'm saying I don't want to stop."

"You don't?" I ask.

He shakes his head.

"Oh," I say. "I… I still wanna be your friend, too." I smile softly. "Yeah. Okay."

Before Jackson can respond, there's a short knock on the conjoined bathroom door before Addison walks in. "April?" she says, peeking into my room. "Are you okay? I heard some weird sounds coming from in here earlier…"

We make eye contact and she looks to Jackson, who's turned his head to look at her.

"Hey, Jackson," she says. "Were you guys in here making noise a little bit ago?"

"Everything's fine," I say. I don't want to get into it with her. I don't plan on ever explaining what went down earlier tonight. "Sorry for being loud."

"No, it's fine," she says. "I just wanted to make sure you're all good. I haven't stopped by in a while, sorry I've been crazy busy." She smiles slightly. "But you have, too, I guess. You guys are always together. I've seen you around."

"You have?" I ask.

"Yeah," she says. "You guys are doing good, right?"

My stomach sinks. This ruse that we've kept up isn't just between us and Alex, I realize that now. Everyone thinks we're together. Addison, Amelia, Mark, Jackson's whole soccer team… everyone we know. If we want it to stop, we have to essentially 'break up.' And that's too much energy for me to think about exerting right now.

"Yeah," I say, offering her a smile. I walk towards Jackson and stand between his spread knees, and rest my hands on his thighs. I feel a calm wash over me when I touch him. He's familiar, comforting, safe. I know him. I trust him. Everything about him is the opposite from how Alex felt earlier, and I want to be close to him. I'm glad, with Addison's eyes on us, that I have the excuse to do it.

"Nice," Addie says. "Hey, uh, I'm not doing anything… do you guys wanna watch a movie or something? I'm so bored. I can't believe that it's a Saturday night and I'm not doing anything, but… I don't know. I took a nap and woke up way too late."

I look at Jackson and he sets his bag of ice to the side and holds my waist loosely in his hands. "Sounds fun," he says.

"We can watch it in here," I say. "My sheets are in the wash, but we can sit on the floor."

I give them the choice of DVDs and we all agree on 13 Going on 30, even though Jackson rolls his eyes. Addison sits on my bare bed - the sheets and comforter just got switched to the dryer - and Jackson and I sit on the floor right next to each other. The movie starts and the lights are low, and I can see Addie's phone shining in my peripheral vision above us, which clues me in that she isn't paying that close of attention.

I scoot closer to Jackson so our bent knees are lined up with each other and he looks down at me with a little grin on his face that reaches his eyes. He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close, and I rest my head down to use him as a pillow, closing my eyes as I smile with contentment. He kisses the top of my head a couple times and squeezes me as close as he can, and my heart feels so full. I really feel like I might explode. Compared from just hours ago, I am so happy. And I'm also happy that Jackson and I don't have to stop being friends. And for right now, we can still pretend we're dating for the sake of the people around us. Nothing has to change.

I tip my head up to look at him and whisper, "Hi."

Crinkles appear on his neck as he meets my eyes. "Hey, piano girl," he replies, and kisses me.

"Guys," Addison says. "Watch the damn movie. Or else I'm out of here."

Jackson and I laugh and turn our attention back to the movie; I watch it halfheartedly but am only able to think about his body next to me. All I want to do is touch him, and Addison thinks we're dating anyway… so there isn't really a reason not to.

I rest one hand on his leg and squeeze, which makes him dig his nails into my upper arm. I inch my fingers lower towards his inner thigh, and he starts to chuckle low in his throat. "Careful…" he says.

But I'm feeling confident, and I want his attention. I suddenly very much wish that Addison wasn't here, just inches above us. I try to ignore the fact that she is, though, and crane my neck so I can kiss him on the cheek.

I don't know why I do it, really. After the bad thing with Alex happened earlier, I thought I'd want to be alone for a long time. Forever, maybe. But now, I just want those bad feelings that he gave me to be replaced with good ones. Good ones that I know Jackson can give me. And I want to make him feel good, too.

After I kiss his face, he turns so he can press his lips to mine before I pull away. I smile into it and push myself up onto my knees, then hear the mattress situate above us.

"Okay, guys, geez," Addie says. "I get when I'm not wanted." She laughs and sighs to herself, sounding lightheartedly annoyed. "I'm locking this door. Keep it down, at least, okay?"

Neither of us acknowledge her as she leaves. Instead, I plant my hands on Jackson's shoulders and push him to lie on his back with my body resting between his legs.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and I settle my weight down on him.

"Kissing you," I say. "Can I?"

"I mean, yeah," he says. "But… you want to?"

"Yeah, I want to," I say. "I wanna feel good. I felt so bad earlier, I wanna feel good."

"Okay," he says, skimming his hands up my sides.

"You make me feel good," I say.

"You make me feel good, too," he says, moving one hand to hold the underside of my knee to hitch it up higher. I push my hips down onto his groin and try to grind my need for friction away, an insistent sound escaping me as I do so.

"Can we keep doing this?" I ask breathlessly, and his hand holds my knee tighter. "I really don't want to stop doing this."

"Making out?" he asks.

I nod. "If you don't want to keep going, I-"

"I want to," he says.

"It'll just be easier if we keep this whole thing up," I say, moving my lips down to the angle of his jaw. He turns his head so I have better leverage, and I anchor one hand flat on his chest as I close my teeth over his sensitive skin.

"Pretend dating?" he says. "I still want to, if you do."

"I told Alex that we br-"

"Fuck Alex," Jackson says. "He doesn't matter." He pushes up the bottom of my shirt and rests his hands on my bare skin. "You matter."

My face floods with heat and I press my torso against his, feeling him grow between my thighs. I sit up on his stomach with my back resting against his legs, and whip my shirt off over my head.

"Whoa, April," he says, eyes wide.

"What?" I say.

"I-I just… I don't wanna make you feel rushed, I'm not pushing you, I didn't-"

"I know," I say, rocking back and forth impatiently. "Wanna help me remake my bed so we don't have to do this on the floor?"

We stand up and I can feel his eyes on me. My stomach is twisting with nerves, but in a good way. A really good way. I throw on a hoodie and come back from the laundry room with my linens in hand, then start to make my bed with his help.

"Jackson," I say, throwing my comforter on over the mattress. "Do you want to have sex?"

His head snaps right over. "What?"

"Do you want to have sex?" I repeat. "With me. I… you don't have to, you can say no… but… every time we make out, I feel you get hard and I-I just assumed you'd want to. Because I want to. I really want you, I think I might go crazy if we don't do someth-"

"I want to," he says, cutting me off. "Now?"

"If you want," I say.

"Yes," he says. "Just let me go get a condom."

I strip off my hoodie in the time that he's gone and also brush my hair. I spray some subtle perfume and put on deodorant too, almost wishing that I had enough time to call Libby. I'm about to lose my virginity. This is a big deal. I'm about to lose my virginity to my best friend, and I really, really want to.

How can the same concept between two boys feel so different? With Alex, the thought of sleeping with him was terrifying. But now, sitting here without a shirt on and smelling all fresh and clean for Jackson, I'm impatient with the four minutes he's been gone.

When he comes back, he has a different outfit on. He locks the door deliberately behind him and walks over to my bed, and I lay down with my head on the pillow.

"I- uh," I say. "I'm not sure how this works."

He sets the box of condoms on my nightstand and I can't help but giggle that he brought the whole thing - how much does he plan on doing with me tonight? I don't say anything though. I feel like we've created a moment now, and I don't want to ruin it.

He pulls off his shirt and joins me on the bed, sitting with my legs on his lap. "It can just be like what we normally do," he says, massaging my calves. "It doesn't have to 'be' like anything."

"Okay," I say, resting my arms above my head. "Come kiss me, then."

He smirks and crawls over my body, resting on his side next to me as we kiss. I turn on my side too and run my hand up his bare chest, skimming it up the side of his neck to lightly press my thumb over his pulse point. When his tongue glides into my mouth, I moan lightly and press myself closer to him, arching my back as I go, and he winds one arm around me to rest over my butt.

He bites my lower lip as my hips twitch against him and squeezes my butt tight in his hand. That makes electricity buzz between my legs and he smiles against me, rubbing his hand over that same part of my body in a rhythmic, repetitive pattern.

He pushes me onto my back and dives at my neck, and I hold the back of his head as he opens his mouth on me. I take his wrist that's resting on the mattress by my waist and move it to my breast, and he moans into my mouth as I press his fingers in tightly.

"Just like that," I breathe. "Do you want me to take my bra off? I can take it off."

"If you want to," he says. "Only if you want to."

"I do," I say. "Just… let-let me sit up real quick."

He pulls off and watches me as I wind my arms around my back, grabbing for the little clasp. Once it's undone, I hold the material to my chest and feel his eyes searing into me, which is making me self-conscious.

"You're kinda staring," I say.

He blinks hard. "Oh, shit," he says. "Sorry, god. I-I didn't mean to. Here." He looks the other way. "You can do it now."

I slide the straps off of my arms and wiggle out of my bra, hearing it hit the wooden floor with a little 'clack.'

"Okay," I say. "Jackson. You can look at me."

His eyes drink me in, and I lay down flat again.

"Well, come here," I say, and pull his body overtop of mine again.

"Can I touch them?" he asks.

"I want you to," I say.

"I'm gonna go slow," he says. "As slow as you want me to."

I smile to myself as he gently presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth, then below my ear, then at the angle of my collarbone, then down to the swell of my breast.

I gasp a little bit when his thumb traces the round underside of it, and his lips part to take my nipple into his mouth. My back arches and my hips squirm; I love the way his tongue feels as it laps at the hardening bud and makes it stand on end.

I've never felt like this before. There's an insistent, tightening feeling between my legs and I know what my body wants to happen. I want it so bad. I want to know what it feels like to completely give myself over to another person, and I want that person to be Jackson.

"Do you like that?" he asks. He's genuinely asking.

"Y-yeah," I say, barely able to put together coherent thoughts. "I really like it. Keep going."

As his mouth pays plenty of attention to one breast, his hand kneads the other. I wrap one leg around his calf and moan with my mouth open, and feels his hips push against mine involuntarily. I can tell he wants this just as much as I do, but he's in better control of himself. He's done this before. He definitely has. Right?

"Jackson," I say, skimming my hand over the back of his head. "Have you ever had sex before?"

He pulls away from my breast only to go back and press gentle kisses to the outline of my nipple, still stroking the other one with his thumb.

"Yeah," he says. "I have."

I'm not bothered by that fact. Actually, I'm comforted by it. At least one of us knows what we're doing. It's better than if both of us were going into this blind.

"Okay," I say.

"Why?" he asks.

"You know I haven't," I say. "I just… I just wanted to know for sure." I let out a shaky breath. "Is it okay that I haven't?"

"Of course," he says. "You're fine, you're perfect. Everything is okay."

My body feels warm. I can't control the smile that find its way to my lips.

"Right?" he continues. "Everything is okay?"

"Everything is great," I say. "And, um… just so you know…" I glance between our bodies. "You can touch me. Down there."

"Yeah?" he says.

I nod my head and move his hand that was on my chest to rest it on my hip. He strokes my skin with his thumb then dips it below the waistband of my sweatpants, and I take a deep breath. I want him to touch me. I want it really bad.

"I'm just gonna take them off," I say, squeezing my arms between our bodies to shimmy out of my pants. I kick them to the end of the bed and am left just in my underwear underneath him, and I'm starting to feel a little scared.

"I like these," he says, which takes me out of my head. I look down at my choice of underwear today to see that they're white with emojis covering them - all different types.

"Oh, god," I say, covering my face with my hands. "That's… oh god. That's embarrassing. I'm… I'm sorry, I didn't know- I didn't think…"

"Don't say sorry," he says, kissing the top of my ribcage. "I like them. They're cute."

As his lips go lower, my body tenses. He sucks the skin around my bellybutton between his teeth, and my thighs clench together due to the tightness between my legs.

"Is that good?" he asks.

"Really good," I say, and feel his fingers on my inner thighs to gently pull them apart. "Jackson," I say, sounding a little alarmed as I prop myself up on my elbows. "Are you gonna give me oral?"

A surprised smile breaks onto his face as he chuckles. "Uh, yeah," he says. "I was planning on it. Is that okay?"

I flop onto my back again and pucker my lips to let out a long breath. "Yeah," I say. "It's good. I just wanted to make sure… I-I don't really know what it's… I'm not sure of-"

"Do you want me to?" he asks.

I bend my neck to look at him. "Yeah," I say. "I really want you to give me an…" My cheeks flame.

"I'll make you come," he says. "Don't worry about that. You just gotta let me. Tell me it's okay. I just want to make sure. I'm not gonna push you."

"It's okay," I say, then throw my arms above my head again.

He presses a kiss to the middle of my panties, which makes my heart start to beat really fast. I think it's going to burst out of my chest, I don't know how I'm going to handle this. He gently pulls them off of my hips and down my legs, and I realize that this is happening. I'm naked in front of a boy who's about to go down on me. After this, I won't be the same. And if everything goes right, I'm going to have my first orgasm.

I know I'm overthinking this and I shouldn't be. But it's so hard to get out of my own head.

He kisses my inner thighs gently and moves them apart again, and I wonder if everything is okay down there. Should I have shaved? Do I smell okay? Is he grossed out by me? I don't know what to do about my wild thoughts. I can't calm them down or make them shut up. I just want to enjoy this, enjoy him, that's all I want. But I just keep thinking.

When his mouth closes over my heat, though, I stop all that. I'm not sure what he's doing, but it feels incredible. I don't even feel like I have a body anymore, it feels so amazing. All I know is that his tongue is inside me and his lips and teeth are all over me in places that no one has ever touched before, and I don't know what to do with my hands or the sounds I'm making.

The pads of his fingers are digging into the outsides of my hips, guiding as I lift them up to meet his face. When he opens his mouth wider, I moan his name and arch my back, spreading my legs as far as they'll go with one hanging off the side of the bed.

"Oh, Jackson," I say urgently. "Jackson, Jackson, Jackson, oh my god. I think I'm… I think I'm gonna…"

"You can come for me," he says, breaking his mouth away only to say those words before going back. "Go ahead, piano girl. You're gonna come. That's a good thing."

So I do. My knees bend upwards and I cover my face with my hands as I let out sounds that at first only sound like sobs, and then actually turn into them. I don't know what's going on, but I've started to cry without any control over myself.

"April?" Jackson says, his eyebrows furrowed together. "What's going on? You okay?"

I start to cry harder. I have no idea what's wrong with me, but I'm feeling way too many things at once. I can't do this. I grapple for my underwear and shove them on clumsily, and throw a t-shirt on over my head so I'm a bit more decent.

"I can't do the rest," I say, breathing so shallowly that I'm afraid I'll start hyperventilating. "I'm sorry. It's not you. I'm just-I'm just…" I drop my elbows to my knees and lean forward, crying into my palms.

"Hey," he says. "It's okay. You're not ready. You're okay."

"I'm sorry," I say, hastily wiping my tears. "I told you I was, and you made me feel so good, and I-"

"No," he says. "Listen, stop. I don't care about what you said, I care about what you feel. And if you're not ready, fuck this. We can just hang out. I don't care. We're friends, right? That means I put your needs before mine. We're cool."

I sniffle. "We're cool?"

He smiles, and it almost knocks me off the bed. "More than cool."