Page 67 of Forbidden Lessons

Then she crawls back.

“Thanks, Haven,” she says woodenly, and much too loudly. “I feel so much better now.”

I giggle.

I can’t help it.

And Melissa puts her fingers over her mouth like she’s trying to hold back a laugh too.

We both wave at each other, and then I point to the card. “I will face the consequences!”

She mock-gasps, and then giggles.

But then I realize what I’m about to say, and my cheeks start to glow. “So…uh…there was this guy…”

“A guy, okay,” she repeats, trying to keep a straight face. “A good looking guy, at least?”

“Yeah, definitely.” I hear my words echo back and bite the inside of my lip. But the tequila gives me a little more courage, and the alternative is defiling Melissa’s immaculate face with a permanent marker.

Low blow, Bastian.

Low fucking blow.

But there’s no way I’m telling anyone about what happened in the library with Kai. I mean, who’s going to know if I lie? Allthis exercise is about is figuring out if you’d rather hurt yourself or someone else. As long as I make it convincing, no one’s going to know.

Kai’s not the only one with an imagination. The secret, I’ve found, is adding just enough truth to make it resonate.

“Okay, so, nothing major,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “I, uh, gave a guy head in his car.” I let out a rush of breath, and hold out my hand for our next round of rock, paper, scissors.

“Oh, no, missy.” Melissa picks up the card and points out a word. “Graphic. Graphic detail.”

I grab the front of my throat, shaking my head.

Her eyes go wide. “Do I need to find a marker?”

“Geez, fine! It, it happened between classes, and it was this spur-of-the-moment thing, okay? We were talking, things got heated. He pulled out his…dick and told me to suck it. So I did.”

Melissa giggles like a demon. “And then?”

“And then what?”

She lifts her shoulders. “Did he come? Did you swallow? Was it good? Are you two getting married now?” She’s giggling so much I can barely hear what she’s saying, but her laughter—and her brashness—is infectious.

“Yes, yes, hell yes, andfuckno.”

We both collapse into giggles, Melissa slapping at me and calling me a slut between gales of laughter.

When we finally gather ourselves, Melissa’s wiping tears from her eyes, streaking her mascara, and I’m pressing the back of my hands against my cheeks, trying to cool them down.

“Okay, okay.” I blow out a breath. “Second last round.”

Melissa wins, draws a card, and takes a slow pull of air through pursed lips.

That’s when I know it’s bad.

“Listen, Haven,” she says, looking up as she pats her fingertip under one eye. “We had a good run, but?—”

“Come on,” I mutter, snatching the card out of her hand.

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