Matthew couldn’t understand why Cyrus liked the girl so much. It wasn’t like he liked Lucita himself, but really. Tiffany was not the best girl. She was scheming, whereas Lucita genuinely loved Cyrus. He had to give the girl props for that, even though he couldn’t stand her.

No, that was a lie. If Matthew wanted to be honest with himself, it wasn’t that he hated Lucita; he was jealous of her.

All through middle school, she had stolen Cyrus’s attention away. In English, her passion, she always bested him with her poetic earnest. Too unafraid to show how she felt.

She was too much like him nowadays. Back then, she had been a pushover, a timid little mouse who often spent her lunch hiding away to cry.

Now Lucita was a punk. Now, she was as unafraid to fight as she was to feel.

That’s why he was at her place, about to knock on the door.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, slipping outside, in a pair of blue short shorts that barely covered her butt and a tight grey tank top, her arms crossed in front of her defensively.

“Can I come in?”

“Let me think? No.”

“Tiffany knows about your daddy issues, Luce.”

That got her attention. “What?”

“Cyrus sort of opened his big mouth.”

“What? Why?” Her lips pursed together, highlighting her annoyance. “Fine, you can come in. But if I catch you looking at my ass or down my shirt, I will punch you.”

“Dude, I’m a dude. Besides, maybe don’t walk around in the shortest shorts imaginable.”

“These are my jammies.”

“Jesus Christ, did you just say jammies?”

She rolled her eyes, ignoring him as she walked into her apartment, allowing him to follow. He sat on the black sofa, leaving enough room for her. She sat beside him, crossing her legs underneath her. Beside her, on the table, lay a notebook.

“What are you writing,” he said, nodding towards the notebook.

“Harry Potter fan fiction.”

“Seriously?”

“I like Harry Potter. So what did Tiffany tell you.”

“To make a move on you.” He gave her his best charming smile.

“Don’t be a creep.”

Matt leaned back into the sofa. “She wants me to make nice with you so she can somehow drive a wedge between you and Cy. The girl is vindictive.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” she said dryly.

“I don’t like her.”

“That is the only reason we’re getting along right now, our mutual dislike of Cyrus’s girlfriend.”

“It’s okay, you can say you hate her, I won’t tell.”

“I despise her. See, we’re making nice. You can tell her mission was accomplished.”

“We need to get rid of her.”

“Easier said than done, dude. We are here, and she is there. The only way would be to separate them. We can’t just go kidnap him and tell him that his girlfriend is a manipulative lying bitch.”

Matt smiled at her. “You should have been this feisty years ago. I may have liked you.”

“Glad I wasn’t.”

“Oh, ouch. As for getting Cyrus back, I have an idea.”

“What?”

“Not so fast.” Matthew took a deep breath. “You can’t tell a soul. What I’m going to do has to be kept between us.”

Lucita eyed him warily. “Fine.”

“I’m thinking since he’s being an idiot and smoking pot on the school campus, I will call in a tip and get him expelled.” Matthew knew the school had a zero-tolerance policy. By the look of shock on Luci’s face, he knew she knew it too.

“Seriously? Matt he could get in serious trouble. That could—”

“Cyrus is spoiled. His parents…you know how rich they are, they’ll cover it up, deal with whatever fallout might follow.”

“This could still go on his permanent record.”

He hated how much she was voicing his same concerns. “Geez, Luce, just chill. It will be fine. His parents will make sure he’s fine. It would be a first offense. No police would get involved. I’m sure the school would hate that as well. Money speaks to money. Whatever happens, even if they don’t expel him, Cyrus’s parents will pull him out. They sent him there because they thought a more structured environment would be good for him. If they find this out, they’ll realize it might have done the opposite. His anxiety…look, they’ll see him self-medicating with the pot, which he admits he’s doing, and then bring him home regardless of what the school wants.”

He looked at Luci, biting her lower lip anxiously, eyes wide behind her glasses. It was funny; he had just noticed she wasn’t wearing eyeliner. He can’t remember a time, even in middle school, when she didn’t have something on her eyes. He’s sure there was a moment, but seeing her fresh-faced, he noted how attractive she was, with light freckles under her right eye.

And the fact that she was so anxiously biting her lower lip didn’t help.

“Luce,” he said, voice low. “I promise you, he might get into trouble, but the person selling it will get much worse.”

“He’ll get mad.”

“Yeah, but I’m not going to tell him it was us, and I know you won’t. Right?”

Luci nodded, looking away as if she could absolve herself of this. “When are you going to do it?”

Matt sighed. “After midterms, give him time. He started school a week before us. I don’t want to mess up his attendance or shit like that. I just want him to come home, ya know.”

“Yeah.” She let out a deep breath. “You’re sure he’ll come back?”

“Yes, and you have to tell him everything when he does.”

“He’s gonna be so mad at me.”

“Get over it.” He said, harsher than he intended.

Lucita just stared at him, eyes wide. Why were they always so wide? Was that just her, this pretty girl with big, wide eyes that let you see into her soul. He gritted his teeth.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Because you’re better than me. Because he wants you. Because you used to be this pathetic thing. Because you chose him. “I have my reasons. But you know what, I’ll tell you one reason. Because you cried all the time. Because you took every slap, every shove, every trip and did nothing.”

Now, her eyes narrowed. Now, there was fury. “If you touched me now, I would hurt you.”

He let out a laugh. “Yeah, now. Back then, you took it and still declared your pathetic love for him.”

“Cyrus is sorry.”

“Yeah, now. But he wasn’t then. You embarrassed him, were an embarrassment. Now you’re a punk. If you had been like this, then I wouldn’t have hated you, and maybe, just maybe, he would have been yours.”

“I won’t hold him to who he used to be. You keep pointing out how I’ve changed, and so has he. He doesn’t hold me to who I used to be.”

“Aren’t you lucky?”

“Go screw yourself.”

Matt grinned at her, all teeth, no kindness. “Deep down, you’re still the same girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Deep down inside, you’re still the pathetic girl, the girl who hid in the bathroom to cry. The girl I found—”

“Shut up!” Her hand wrapped around his throat, nails digging into his flesh. Fuck, he thought, pulling them away, slamming her into the sofa, pinning her hands to her side. He pushed too far; he knew he pushed too far. He didn’t know what it was about her, but he liked to push her buttons.

Because she liked him.

“Get off me!”

“Chill out.”

“Fuck you.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Get. Off. Me.”

“Considering you just tried to choke me, that’s gonna be a hard no, Lucita.”

“You swore—”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll never bring it up again.”

Her eyes met his, fierce, angry, hot. “Ever. Never again, Matt.”

“I promise. Now, do you promise to behave if I let you go?” This close to her, he let his eyes wonder her face, settling on her lips and wondering what kissing her would be like. He quickly regretted thinking that and hoped that she didn’t feel his hard-on.

“Fuck,” he heard her say, her voice soft.

“What?” he said, still laying on her, still pinning her wrists down, even though his hold had lessened.

Their gazes met again, and then she did the last thing he expected.

Lucita was kissing him.

He didn’t know why he was kissing her back. Why had he thought about it so much?

Matt didn’t like Lucita. He certainly didn’t like how she tasted like coffee and cherries, how tiny her waist was, and how she seemed to fit perfectly against him.

He remembered when he first saw her. This new girl in an oversized blue sweater over a white polo shirt, a book clutched in her arms, and black hair curly. It had been before she had gotten glasses. He remembered thinking she was cute.

And then she chose Cyrus, only had eyes for Cyrus.

Cyrus, whom he had struggled with crushing on for years. Of course, his first girl crush would go for the first boy he had ever liked.

Kissing her back, he pulled her close, letting her arms wrap around his neck.

Kissing her, he thought about what Cyrus had told him about this summer. How they had tried to lose their virginities to one another. How he had chickened out last minute. He thought about how he should not like this, how he needed to pull away.

What the hell was he doing?

But still, he didn’t stop.

Instead, he went further, moving his hand up her shirt, pinching her nipple, forcing her to gasp against his mouth. Instead he pulled away to rip off his shirt, amazed that she did the exact same thing with hers, pulling him back to her. He matched her speed, his bare chest pressed up against her, his lips moving from hers to her neck, his hand moving down to cup her butt.

But then her hands were fumbling with the buckle of his pants.

How had they gotten here? What the hell happened?

It was getting out of hand.

This was not part of the plan.

“Lucita,” he said, pinning her down again. Fuck, how did we get here?

“What?” she said, voice barely a whisper.

“We can’t. You can’t.”

“Yeah, I can.”

“Be serious. You don’t want me to be your first.”

Lucita stared at him, biting down her lip again. Why did he find that so damn attractive?

“We don’t like each other.”

“Exactly Luce—”

“Which is why I think we should.”

“You’re not making any sense.” He needed to move, needed to get away from her. But he was frozen, frozen with wanting. What had he gotten himself into?

“Everyone wants their firsts to be someone they care about. What happens when the other person stops having feelings? I have no expectations from you. You don’t have any from me. Nothing gets complicated. Nothing changes. I want that.”

He stared at her, stunned. Matt couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So, what, you…you really want to?”

“Cyrus can never find out.”

Ah, the caveat. But did he care? Matt knew he should. Cyrus was his best friend. But looking down at her, he wanted her. So instead, he sat up, pulling her onto his lap, his lips moving onto her neck. “I promise.” He knew Cyrus would hate him for it if he ever found out.

The honest thing would be to leave. To say no, to get up, put his shirt back on, walk out, go home, and take a very cold shower.

Instead, he let her get up and pull him down the hall towards her bedroom. He reached into his wallet, where he had kept the condoms his father had bought him. Because, as his father had so eloquently put it, “teenagers are horny, and I don’t want you knocking up anyone or catching anything.” Turns out his father was right.

She closed the bedroom door behind him. Why was he nervous? Why was every nerve in his body vibrating? He turned to face her, letting her kiss him again. He pulled her close to him, holding her tight. Even as they stumbled onto the bed, falling on one another, they found each other.

They moved slowly, even once his pants were off and they were in nothing but their underwear. They explored each other’s bodies with their hands and their lips. He stopped once more before pulling off her underwear and his own.

And even though there was a voice in his head telling him this was a very bad idea, he didn’t let that stop him from pulling out the condom and putting it on.

Laying between her legs, his forehead on hers, he asked her again if she was sure. Did she really want him? Relief filled him when she nodded, saying yes.

He moved slowly at first, afraid of hurting her. But she didn’t seem to complain. Her hands and nails dug into his shoulders, but he didn’t mind.

It was…

It was Luci, and it was amazing.

His body moved against hers, and it seemed to fit. The way they kissed seemed to work. Matthew wanted her. He wanted every bit of her. Matthew wanted her kisses; he wanted her touch. He wanted to hear his name on her mouth. He wanted to stay here, wrapped between her legs, wrapped in her arms.

He wouldn’t lie; he did have a smug sense of satisfaction knowing he was her first, knowing how easy it had been for them to get it on, whereas Cyrus had chickened out and struggled.

His hand grazed her scars on her thigh, on her stomach. He could tell some of them were fresh. And even when she straddled him, riding him, he caught himself thinking of when he had found her in the bathroom. The memory she hated.

Matthew cursed when he went. Sweaty against her, he knew she hadn’t gone.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, breathing into her neck. He pulled himself off her, laying on the bed, disappointed with himself. When she curled up to him, he welcomed it. When she kissed him, he welcomed it, wrapping himself around her.

“I should go,” he mumbled between kisses. He counted the scars on her thigh in his head. Why did she do this? Why did she hurt herself so much?

Then he asked himself the big question: had he ever really hated her?

“Yeah, probably,” she said between kisses, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

God, he still wanted her. Even though he came, he wanted her.

“You have to get off me.”

“You’re a big, strong guy,” she said, her lips moving to his neck, her voice hot against him, “move me.”

He heard the challenge in her voice. So, he did. He shoved her onto the bed, pinning her beneath him. Lucita grinned at him, once again biting down on her lower lip. God, why did that undo him?

“One more round?”

“Are you up for it?” In response, he kissed her down her body, over her breast, over the scars on her stomach and thigh before settling between her legs. There was more than one way to please a girl, he discovered.