Page 143 of Until the Ribbon Breaks

I pull his lips down to mine, give him an unmoving kiss, and then tell him, “You’re my best friend. Nothing changes.”

He kisses me, and just knowing that we’re about to do this has my heart pumping. Uncertainty of how this is going to feel rattles my nerves, and I tense. I tell myself to calm down, but my body doesn’t listen. Then I tell myself not to calm down because at least I’m feeling something—my pulse racing, my blood rushing, my skin burning.

His weight leaves me, and when I open my eyes, he’s leaning over to the nightstand and picking up the condom. I try not to look at him, at his naked body as he slips on protection. This is all too new and too foreign and I can’t stop my vision from going in and out of focus.

“You’re shaking.”

“It’s fine.” It has to be. This has to work. “I’m just nervous.”

He comes back down to me, and I wrap my arms around him, pressing my hands against his back, feeling his muscles flex beneath his skin.

His head drops to the side of mine and he asks once more, “Are you sure?”

“Please ...” It is the only word I can get out before my heart stops and everything silences around me—around us.

A wire is cut somewhere deep inside, turning me off. I stare into Sebastian’s eyes as his chest moves against mine, but I can’t hear him breathing.

I can’t hear myself breathing.

I try to concentrate, to tune in when I’m tuned out. Closing my eyes, I force myself to focus on what’s happening, but I have no clue where to start or how to find my way to being present.

I can’t feel anything.

I reach for my heart, coming up empty handed. It should be on fire, bursting with adrenaline and expanding in emotions.

It isn’t.

It’s nowhere to be found in this hollow tomb of a body.

Opening my eyes, I look down on the two of us from a window above. My arms stretch around his body and everything appears normal, yet nothing is. I blink and am back inside myself. He’s no longer moving as he braces himself above me, running a hand along my cheek.

“Are you okay?”

When I realize that it’s over, I try to do my best to sound certain of myself when I tell him, “Yeah.”

“Are you sure? You were really quiet.”

“I’m sure.”

He slides out of bed, and I turn my back to him as I rush to put my clothes on. After he returns, he tucks himself behind me and pulls my body flush against his so that I can feel his heart pounding wildly against my spine.

If only mine could too.

But it doesn’t because it’s missing. I’m missing.

And then the regret of what I just did washes over me.

We shouldn’t have done that because it only exposed to him how incapable I am. Here he is, giving me so much while I give nothing in return. I’m worthless. He deserves to be loved by a friend in a way he can feel, but I’m dead inside.

I’m afraid that, by having sex with him, I just destroyed everything. I already know I ruined all his friendships at school. If I was never his friend, he wouldn’t be in this situation. He’d still be hanging out with everyone, partying after the homecoming game tonight and taking Kassi to the dance tomorrow. Instead, he’s in my bed, holding misery in its physical form.

What could I possibly be to him when I’m nothing to myself?

What am I to anyone besides a burden?

It seems all I do is complicate people’s lives and make everything harder.

“Harlow,” he says, tugging on my shoulder to turn me around, and I go.

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