Page 8 of My Best Friend's Sister

“I’m serious, Jackson. Please.”

“Alright, shoot, but no promises.”

“Well… I’m just a little nervous about going out with Kennedy because, I mean…if I decide I want to have sex with him, I may not be good at it.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” I tell her as I sign the receipt the waiter brought back. I look up from the receipt to see her fiddling with her cloth napkin, and I set the pen down. “Ava, did a stupid guy from your past tell you that you were bad in bed or something? He’s an asshole; don’t listen to him.”

She swallows and shakes her head. “Forget it; do you want to get another drink?”

I look at my watch and see it’s a quarter to eleven, which means I have no hope of doing any work when I get home.What the hell? It’s a Thursday night; people should be out.

Two Manhattans and a shot of tequila later, Ava and I are reminiscing about the old days at a dive bar known for their nachos near her apartment. I push the plate toward her, having eaten my weight in cheesy chips, and she clears her throat. “Okay, so remember that time you pushed me into the creek behind the school?”

“I did not push you; you fell!”

“Bull shit! If by fall, you mean in response to your hand on my shoulder, then sure, Jackson,I fell.”

I laugh remembering how I didn’t mean to send her into the water. I had forgotten she didn’t weigh quite as much as Tucker, so horsing around with a six-year-old was quite different. “You were fearless and such a little tom boy. I still can’t believe you didn’t rat me out.”

“I wanted you guys to keep letting me play with you. If I told on you, you probably wouldn’t have.” She shrugs as she takes a long sip of her drink. “Of course, not long after that you guys stopped hanging out with me anyway.”

“We were twelve, Ava. You were six.”

“Still hurt!”

“I’m sorry; how can I make it up to you?” I chuckle.

Her eyes find the ceiling, then she turns back to me with a wicked gleam in her eye.

I don’t like where this is going. Maybe she’ll just ask for money. That I can do.

“Well, maybe there is something…” She looks up in the air.

“Shoot.”

She downs her drink and turns on the bar stool to face me. I look at her, and before I can ask her what she’s getting at, she blurts out, “I’m a virgin, and I don’t want to be anymore.”

I freeze, the whiskey sitting in my mouth, because I am too scared to swallow it for fear of choking. I look at the petite brunette, brown-eyed girl I’ve known for years as she waits with bated breath for my response. I finally get my drink down my throat successfully, and I wipe my mouth. “Wow…” I shake my head. “Good--for you?”

Tucker will be so happy to hear this. Actually, maybe I shouldn’t tell him that? But, why not? I’d be thrilled to hear my little sister was still hymenally challenged.

Gross.

Okay, no more drinking.

I push the highball glass away from me and shake my head before taking a long sip of the water instead.

“I wouldn’t say it’s necessarily good?”

“Why are you telling me this?” I ask her.

“Because… I think I might want to have sex with Kennedy.”

“Okay, and you need me to get you condoms? You’re not sixteen, Ava. You can buy them at a drugstore. And I am not going with you to get birth control. Call your mother.”

“No, asshole.” She hits my shoulder. “I want… to not be a virginbeforeKennedy. I don’t want him to think I’m bad in bed.”

“Okay? Well, find another guy in your class, I guess?”

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