"I want to lose my virginity," she says, "and I want it to be with you."
My best friend says this after one night of youthful troublemaking and a bottle of stolen vodka. She says that but I still remember those baths we used to take together. I remember showing off our first whiskers of body hair.
"I want it to be with someone I trust. Someone I care 'bout. That's you." Her hot whisper tickles my ear and I squirm. But I can't ignore the slur to her words, the sluggish grind of her body on top of mine.
"Okay, okay." I swallow. "Not tonight. When we're sober."
"Promise?" She smiles against my neck.
"Promise."
And that's how I got roped into taking my best friend's virginity. I can make good on that promise. She doesn't need to know that I'm in love with her. A harmless rite of passage, something between two people who've known each other their whole lives, no big deal…right?
