His eyes widen. For a second, I’m sure that this is going to be an intense moment, but then he starts to laugh. Not just normal laughing, either, but the way I figure people laughed when Eddie Murphy was still on SNL.

“Okay, I didn’t tell you that to be funny.” I sit down next to him, pulling at the sweatshirt. “I just mean—you know. Three more months. It’s not supposed to be funny.”

“I’m not—I’m not laughing at you,” he says, turning toward me. “Okay, maybe I am, a little bit.”

“You don’t get any condoms,” I say, reaching for the box. “They’re for people who are nice to me, okay?”

He kisses me. I was going to say something about a lacrosse team in New York, but it’s sort of hard to think when I’m kissing Miles. Then I feel something hit my cheek. I push Miles away as he starts to laugh.

“You did not throw a condom in my face.”

“Maybe I did.” God, I like his smile. “But don’t take it the wrong way. I only give condoms to cute girls who are being a pain.”

I grab a handful out of the box, tossing them in his face.

“There are a ton for you, then,” I say, grinning. “Because you’re the biggest pain.”

“Okay, so—” He lunges for the box, and I jump off the bed. Since he has all the ammo, he just keeps tossing it in my face. I lunge for the box, doubling over in laughter, but he jerks out of the way.

“I bet you wish you played lacrosse now,” he says, tossing a condom in my face. “Because I have more stamina than you.”

“I bought the condoms,” I say, grabbing a handful off the floor. “So at least I can do something right.”

“In what world are blueberry condoms right?”

“Hey!”

I pelt him with condoms. He puts his hands up, laughing as I back him into a corner. There are so many on the floor that my room looks like there’s about to be a really large orgy.

“Come on,” I say. “You can do better than that.”

“Oh, shut up.” He throws a blueberry condom in my face.

“Prepare to meet your fate,” I say, ripping open one condom, then another. “Do you have any last words?”

“You think about me when you masturbate,” he sings. “And I’m always going to remember that.”

“Not the right words,” I say, throwing them in his face. “Dude, you’re going to be in trouble if someone ever holds you at gunpoint.”

“Simone?” The door swings open, and I freeze. “We have to go now, or we’re going to be late. Is Miles ready?”