“I can’t tonight.” The words cause a physical ache in my chest. “I have a history test tomorrow.” I’m torn, because a part of me wants to be close to him, wants to spend every possible second with him that I can, but another part of me is scared to be alone with him. The test is just a convenient way to stall.

“If not tonight, when?” he asks, pulling back to look me in the eyes.

“I promise,” I say, which isn’t a real answer.

“Didn’t realize you were so into playing games,” he says with a laugh.

“I’m not playing games.” I feel a prickling sensation in the bridge of my nose like I might be about to cry. He tilts his head to the side, studying me.

“Are you a virgin?”

My breath catches in my throat. His voice is low and I can’t read his tone, can’t tell how seriously he’s taking the question, which way he wants me to answer.

“I’m not,” I say, the words rushing out of me before I can stop them. “I swear. I really have a history test tomorrow.”

He smiles. “Good.”

Then he kisses me again and pulls away.

All I can think about is the stupid lie I just told. Now I’m stuck with it. There’s no backtracking from this. I’ll just have to pretend I know what I’m doing, and hopefully I’ll have enough natural talent that Dean won’t suspect me. I’m such an idiot.

“I lied to Dean about being a virgin,” I say to Hannah the next day, pulling her into the bathroom at school the moment I see her, the handicapped single stall on the first floor so I know we’re alone.

“What?” she asks, her eyes bulging.

“I didn’t mean to. It just came out before I had a chance to think about it, and then I’d already said it so I couldn’t take it back.”

“Slow down,” she says, putting her hands on my shoulders as if the weight of them will hold me down to earth. “What did you say?”

“He asked me if I was a virgin. I was put on the spot.”

“You should have told him the truth,” she says. “If you’re contemplating having sex with someone, you should be able to be honest. If you can’t be honest, then you’re not ready.”

Easy for her to say. She can look at the problem from a distance and act rationally. But when I’m around Dean, nothing feels easy or rational—my head is a mess.

“I know,” I snap at her, and then I feel bad. She’s just trying to help.