He claps his hands together and turns toward the dresser by his bedside. “First things first.” He opens the top drawer and pulls out two bottles of watermelon Breezer, handing me one. “Sorry it’s not cold, but I had to keep them hidden up here. Mom’s been snooping a lot since the party.”

“Thanks,” I say, twisting off the top. “I thought you hated my stupid watermelon drinks.”

“They’re not so bad. I just like giving you a hard time.” He sits down on the edge of the bed and I join him. We clink our bottles together. I feel slightly light-headed. I’ve been on his bed so many times, but this doesn’t feel like sitting on Andrew’s bed. This feels like sitting on the bed of a boy, and it’s terrifying. I take a long sip of my drink and swallow it too quickly, sputtering a bit. Andrew pats me on the back.

“So, um. How should we do this?” I take another sip. “Do we need to take off our clothes? I guess our pants at least, but maybe not our shirts.” I feel jittery, like I’ve had twenty cups of coffee. “I brought some . . . condoms from the nurse’s office, but I don’t know if they’re the right size. Does that matter? Or is it more of a ‘one size fits all’ thing? Do you have a condom that you want to use instead?” I realize I’m rambling, but I can’t stop.

“We can use the ones you brought,” he says. “Or, I mean—one of the ones you brought.” He clears his throat. “It’ll be fine.”

“Okay, so we should put it on,” I say, taking a deep uncomfortable breath. “You should probably do it, because I don’t know how.” I finish the rest of my drink in one go and put the bottle down on the floor. He sets his beside it.

“Hey,” he says. “Slow down. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’m sure,” I say, smiling weakly. “Oh!” I jump up and grab my backpack. “I forgot. I brought some books. For reference.” I unzip the bag and pull out The Art of Love and Wings of Passion, setting them both down on the mattress. Andrew picks up Wings of Passion, smirking at the illustration on the cover. He leafs through it and begins reading aloud from one of the pages.

“‘Maryanne had made love in the sky before, but never with a pilot quite like Captain Reynolds. Their lovemaking was fast and intense, full of a passion she had never known. He was hard and throb—’”