Page 38 of Heartbeat

“You mean—?”

“Sleep with me, Ethan,” I said, biting my lip again.

He smiled, then started running his fingers through my hair. “What if I snore?”

“I won’t mind.”

“What if I hog the duvet?”

“I’ll scoot closer.”

“What if I end up not wanting to leave?”

“Please don’t.” Once again, I bit my lip.

He stopped moving his fingers and turned to look at me.

“I don’t want you to go,” I said, shaking my head.

He quickly turned serious. “I don’t have your number. That’s why I was thinking about my phone before, because I was thinking I’m going to want to talk to you after I leave, but I still don’t have your phone number.”

“Oh. You could get it from our Lit class list, but—” I reached across his chest, getting on top of him again so I could open my nightstand drawer.

I removed a pen, uncapped it between my teeth, and gently wrote my number on his forearm.

“There.” I threw the pen back inside the drawer and resumed my spot, comfortably nestled on his chest.

*

The first thing I did when I woke up the next day was reach out to the other side of the bed. It didn’t exactly feel great to find that Ethan wasn’t there. I turned over onto my back, and as my eyes adjusted to the light, I noticed a piece of torn paper on top of his pillow. I took the paper, pulled the pillow closer and, why not, took in his scent, and after a few moments, read what he’d written.

I’m definitely okay with remembering you

Holy shit, I was his first.

Chapter Ten

Emma

“I’m definitely okay with remembering you”

I kept reading that, over and over. What was I supposed to do with it? How could I have been his first? I know virginity is a social construct, and it objectively doesn’t change anything—nor should it. So I shouldn’t really focus on it. However, he deemed it important enough to mention it, to let me know I’d been his first. How could I go about that?

What was I supposed to do? Who could I talk to about this? Thanks to me losing my shit recently, I’d yet to reconnect with most of my friends—except for Summer, and I couldn’t really ask my ex-girlfriend how to handle taking the virginity of a boy I’d just met in my new school, could I? I couldn’t go to my new friends either. They barely knew me, and I didn’t know how well they knew Ethan, so what if I inadvertently outed him?

I guess I could talk to my therapist about it, but this was just too personal, even though that was the point, of course. Noah was out of the question too. He’d never gone on a date in his life, and I’d already have my hands full when it came time to explain why I was in such desperate need of condoms last night, so I guess I was screwed.

Maybe I should just ignore the note. Next time I saw Ethan, I’d follow his lead and see if he brought it up or not. Or perhaps that was too shitty, and I should say something, in which case I should at least have some idea what I could say. I hated situations like these because I always thought of the least reasonable approach. Instead of saying something nice and sweet, I’d end up getting too anxious and could very well find myself saying the least sensible thing imaginable.

“Thanks for the virginity?”

Even I knew I couldn’t say that, but my brain was shit, and it was probably what I’d end up saying if I didn’t obsess first and come up with something pre-approved and cruelty-free.

*

Noah was already in the kitchen, making coffee and eating his Cinnamon Toast Crunch when I went downstairs.

“Morning!” he said cheerfully as I walked in and slowly made my way to the isle at the center of the room.

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