30

My hands are roaming his chest, his arms, his head when I decide to do what Karen told me.

I slip my hands under his shirt and lift it slowly. He pauses to look at me in the eyes. "A little impatient, are we?"

"Shut up and take off your shirt," I say.

"Yes, ma'am,"

He quickly stands on his knees and takes off his shirt, before falling back down to my lips. His tongue is exploring my mouth as I nibble on his bottom lip. My hands are enjoying the rock-hard chest. I can feel his six-pack, and I trace my finger in the lines.

Tom places a hand on my belly, then slides it upwards, bringing my shirt with it. I'm left in my bra, and I grin as I see Tom looking at my breasts.

"Hey, my eyes are up here," I joke.

"I know, but your eyes will be closed once I do this," on the last word, he brings his lips down on mine, and I close my eyes.

"Told you," I hear him mutter, and I tell him to shut up again.

He stands back on his knees and stares into my eyes. I am looking back at him, and I realize that I want him. I want him on me. Into me.

"How are we going to do this?" I ask him.

"Do what?"

"Should we, like, go to my bedroom, or…"

"I don't know," he answers. "I've never done this before."

Wait, what? Wasn't he the guy that flirted with every new girl? Wasn't he the player? Wasn't he the guy that slept with every girl in school?

"You've never done this before?" I ask.

"No," he answers. "Why would I have had sex before?"

"Because you're the player," I say. I stand up, the mood suddenly off. "You're the guy that hit on every new girl, and I assumed some of them accepted."

"First of all, I was never the player," he says. "I only acted like it."

"Excuse me?"

"It's a long story," he says.

"We have time," I reply.

"Fine. When I was small, I made friends with a kid named Connor. He was my best friend." He pauses. "When we started going to middle school, Connor became the popular guy, so I had to become popular too if I wanted to stay with him. I learned to be the guy that pranks teachers and flirts with girls and doesn't do his homework.

"Then, three years ago, Connor… killed himself." Tom says.

"I'm sorry," I say.

"Anyway, even after he was gone, I was still popular. I still had that side of me. And I guess I've never been able to get rid of that side."

I don't say anything, and neither does he.

Suddenly I remember our conversation. "What's the second of all?"

"What?"

"Before, you said, 'first of all, I was never the player'. I'm guessing there's a second of all?"

"Yeah, there is." He sighs. "Second of all, I never slept with anyone. I only hit on girls."

"And of all the girls, no one accepted?"

"Well…" he sighs. "Some of them did, but…"

"So you lied to me," I say.

"What? No," He says. "Some of them agreed, but I always turned them down."

"What? Why would you turn them down?" I ask, then shake my head. "No, let's do this. Why don't you explain everything from the top?" I propose.

"Fine." He takes a deep breath. "I hit on girls, yes. But I never sleep with them. I'm a virgin, I swear."

"But, why do you hit on them in the first place?"

"Because…" he hesitates. "Now, please don't get mad after I say this."

"Tom, what it is?"

"I hit on girls because two years ago, my friends and I were hanging out. We started talking about the cutest girls in school when Harry said that the cutest girls were always the new ones.

"After a while, we started playing truth or dare. When it was my turn, I chose dare. So Harry dared me to…" Tom hesitates. "To hit on every new girl."

I stay silent as I take in the news.

"That's why. But I promise I won't do it ever again. I already talked to the guys. I told them that I loved you and that I would never cheat on you in any way. They agreed to let the dare go." He explains.

"So, our relationship is a lie," I mutter.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"So," I repeat, this time louder. "Our relationship is a lie."

"Of course not," Tom says as he takes hold of my hand. "I am in love with you. I have never loved anyone as much as you."

"Yes, but you never would have approached me if it weren't for this dare," I say. "You would probably have ignored me like everyone else."

"No, I-" he starts to say, but I interrupt him.

"Save it, " I snap. "Please leave."

"Emma, wait-"

"Leave!"

Tom doesn't answer, packs his stuff and walks out without a word.

I spend the next day crying. My mother keeps bringing me tea or coffee, and I accept only because I don't want to be rude. I eat close to nothing, but I'm weirdly not hungry. Just sad.

Now that I think our conversation over, I regret wanting to know his secret. I regret asking him all those questions. If I knew the answer to those questions involved this much pain, I would have never asked anything.

I hate being like this: exhausted, depressed, miserable. I hate being me.

I just want the pain to go away. I would never have imagined that a breakup could be so brutal. Was it a breakup, though? Or just a big fight?

I don't want to know. Or do I?

I go to school next week. I decide that beating myself up wouldn't change anything, so I just have to accept that things have changed and move on.

I still haven't told Karen about the fight with Tom, and I wasn't planning to, but as soon as I get to school she realized something was wrong.

"Emma, are you okay?" she asks.

"Uh...yeah. Why do you ask?" I say.

"Please. I can tell when my best friend is sad. Spill," she insists.

And I do. I tell her everything, from the almost-sex to the big fight.

"Shit," Karen says after I'm done. "That's tough."

"And, I have no idea if that was a breakup or not," I add. "I don't know what to do."

"I think you guys should talk," Karen proposes. "Just get together and... just talk. About the fight, about you... about anything. Just talk." she repeats.

"I guess that's a good idea, but... I think I should wait until he makes the first move. I don't want to seem too eager."

"I taught you well," Karen smirks.