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I slide my phone into my backpack and turn to Kara. "Miles is fine. He's not going to be my best friend, but I won't cry if you want to do something with him and Drew. Not a double date but—"
"We're just friends." She looks at me carefully, examining me. "You know he's a player."
"I figured." I adjust my t-shirt. "You know I'm twenty-one, right? I can handle being alone with a man."
"He goes through three girls a week."
"I get that he's a slut. I can handle that. I'm not a child."
She shrinks back, wounded. "Just want to help."
"I know. But I'm doing better than I was in June." I look to my notes before the uncertainty in my eyes will give me away. "Would it be so wrong if I did have sex with him?"
"Not wrong, no. But do you really want to—" she lowers her voice to a whisper "—lose your virginity to a manwhore?"
"Maybe."
"If you're sure it's what you want, I can help."
"I'm just thinking out loud."
"Maybe think about it when you're in bed alone tonight." She winks.
My cheeks flush.
"Did you already?" Her eyes light up. "He is hot. Super hot."
Okay, maybe I did. Masturbation isn't a crime. Last night was the first time I enjoyed myself in a while.
It was the first time I fell asleep thinking about something besides losing my sister.
It's scary, actually, like I'll lose her all over again.
I change the subject to something less embarrassing. "Jurassic Park is playing at the Nuart Friday at midnight."
"I'm there."
* * *
All day, my phone burns a hole in my pocket. It taunts me during lunch. It taunts me during my bio test. It taunts me during the lulls of my shift at the ER.
I write a dozen text replies in my head but none of them are right. I can't care what Miles thinks of me. Writing papers, studying, my job—it doesn't pay well but it's great experience—those come before guys.
But when I get home and collapse on my bed, I keep thinking of him.
I want his hard body pressed against mine, his soft lips on my skin.
How the hell does this flirting thing work?
I take a picture of my skinned knee and send it to him.
Meg: Don't complain if you think it's gross.
He replies quickly.
Miles: Right back at you.
There's a picture message attached—the back of his hand. His knuckles are battered and covered in scar tissue. He got into a lot of fights once upon a time.
