I still have my dad’s jacket on, but my jeans are hanging over the seat. Matty unbuttons his pants, grinning. Even when we kiss I can feel his movie star smile. His grandfather was a poster boy for the U.S. Army Air Forces during World War II, and with his strong brow and noble chin, Matty looks like he could have been the one painted in the clouds holding a rocket bomb. His smile feels like sun breaking through.

“Do you have something?” I ask, determined to keep my wits about me.

“In my room.” He takes his pants off and climbs on top of me. It’s flopping around in his boxer shorts, like it’s spring loaded. We’re in our underwear, but I feel him trying to push the right things together.

“Go get it.”

“April!”

“Go.”

“Come on.” He sits up, but he’s still on me. Things are still aligned. He runs both hands through his hair.

“You come on.” We’ve been through this almost as many times as we’ve done it.

“I’m trying to,” he says, his voice so strained it’s more grunt than words.

“Matty.”

“I’m not cheating on you.” He holds his hand up, flat palmed. His pale brown eyes look golden in the afternoon light. “Scout’s honor. You won’t catch anything.”

“Pregnancy is an awful disease,” I say, trying to wriggle out from under him so we don’t have an accident. He’s trigger happy.

“Do you know how hard it is to get pregnant? Seriously. I’m being serious. My cousin Lindsey has been trying for years.”

“She’s like fifty.”

“That has nothing to do with it,” he says through his teeth.

“I think it does. There was an Oprah.”

“Would it be so bad?” It’s new, him trying different angles like this. Usually he flat-out begs and gives up easy. “We already know we’re getting married. Right? And you already dropped out of school.” He’s talking fast, like he does when he’s trying to scam his mom into a later curfew or a new skateboard. “It probably wouldn’t happen anyway, but everyone says it feels so different, like so much better. For both of us. Not just me. It’ll blow your mind, April.”

“It’ll blow your mind, April,” I say, making my voice crack like his. I laugh and I enjoy it when he looks wounded, like I broke his new Tonka truck. I put a pin in his plan. I love that I’m the only person who doesn’t cave just because he’s beautiful.