I press the button, the vibrations humming through our hands.

“Is it okay?” I ask, looking at her hesitantly. “It looked like something we both could, you know…” Get off on. “And the reviews were good.”

We can both use it at the same time, the ends positioned perpendicular from each other, so one end goes inside her, and the other inside me as I straddle her. There’s a ribbed section that presses into her clit, so hopefully we can both come.

But she stares at it, not answering, and I tense a little.

Maybe this is too much. Or wrong, I don’t know. I want to lose my virginity to her. This is all I could think of.

I lick my lips and stuff it back into the bag. “I guess I should’ve just let you pick it out.” I laugh nervously, shaking my head. “I’m not sure what you’ve used before, so I don’t know. Maybe—”

“It’ll be amazing,” she says, taking me by the back of my neck and kissing me softly. “Bring it tonight.”

I kiss her back, murmuring, “Okay.”

My pulse races, and I’m not sure if it’s her or because I’m nervous, but these toys are a thing, so there must be something to them. I guess we’ll see.

I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her in while I cover her breast with my hand.

She moans, and I smother it with my mouth. “Shhh…” I laugh.

It takes another twenty seconds, but I pull away from her and shove her toward the door. “Ugh, okay, we gotta go.” I kiss her again. “Go, go. Please.”

She rights her clothes and opens the door. “Bye.”

I follow her and pull her back, kissing her one last time. “Bye,” I whisper.

She jogs down the hall, looking back once to flash me a smile, and I watch her disappear down the stairs.

I let the door close, and then I twist my skirt right again and tighten my ponytail.

“I was looking for you.”

I jump. What? I follow the voice and see Amy step out from the other side of the lockers across the hall. My chest caves.

How long has she been there?

I swallow a couple of times, blink, and tamp down my rapid breathing. “Yeah, I know, I’m late.”

I walk down the hall, hearing her footsteps fall in behind me.

“What are you doing, Clay?”

“Leaving.”

I close my eyes, dread twisting my gut. That damn app. I completely forgot we all downloaded it years ago to locate each other. I’ve never used it to find my friends, so it didn’t occur to me that they would.

She grabs my arm and swings me around. “What the hell is going on?” she barks.

It takes a moment, but I recover. “Um…lots.” I step over to my locker and dial in the combo. “The House passed a cyber-safety bill this morning, although it will probably die in the Senate. The president ordered airstrikes in Syria. There’s a storm advisory for this weekend, and I scuffed my vintage saddle shoes at lunch.”

I pull out my handbag, empty my satchel, and refill it with what I need for homework.

“Clay, I’m your best friend.” She steps to my side. “Or one of them anyway. What the hell were you two doing in there?”

The shade was down on the door. Could she have opened it and peeked inside without us hearing?

But I guess she wouldn’t have needed to. We kissed right outside the door like idiots.

“We were knitting sweaters,” I mock.

“Bullshit.” Her voice sounds like she’s spitting out a bug. “God, Clay. Seriously? I’ve been naked in front of you! Slept in your bed. Are you serious?”

I slam the locker door and keep walking. She follows.

“I’ll tell your parents,” she says behind me. “I’ll have to.”

I stop. Excuse me? I turn, glaring at her so hard my eyes feel like they’re on fire.

“I don’t give a shit about what those ‘woke’ assholes try to tell us,” she spits out. “There’s something mentally wrong with people like Olivia Jaeger.”

I reach out, grab her by the collar, and haul her ass into an empty classroom. She stumbles, and I let go, yanking the door closed behind me.

“It’s not natural, Clay,” she argues. “Just stop. Right now. I’m not letting you throw your whole life away.”

I advance on her, and she backs up.

“Clay, you’re not gay,” she tells me. “She’s confusing you. You’ve been through shit, and you’re an easy target.”

“Shut up.”

I drop my bag to the ground, and she bumps into a desk, quickly stepping away.

“So, you’re telling me we’re going to raise our kids next door to each other someday? You, a man-hating dyke with a shitty haircut and your sperm donor offspring, and me with my kids asking why Auntie Clay is groping the babysitter?”

I grab her by the collar with both fists and slam her up against the wall.

She whimpers and tries to push me off, but I grip her hair at the scalp with one hand and dig my fingers into her stomach, pinching the skin there with the other.

She cries out. “Clay!”

“Shhhh…” I whisper over her lips.

She squirms, but her hair is wrapped around my fingers, and she’s trapped.

“Stop,” she snivels.

But I’m not listening. “If you ever speak to me this way again, I will knock your teeth out.” I stare down into her eyes, a new energy filling me that kind of scares me, but I won’t fucking stop. Nothing comes between Liv and me. “Do you understand?”

Fear fills her blue eyes, and I squeeze harder as she tries to shift out of my grasp.

“Do you understand?” I bellow.

“Clay—”

But I’m doing the talking now.

“Now, Amy, I realize your sister is a Jesus-freak who mainlines coke to cope with her minister-husband getting another woman pregnant,” I say calmly but firmly. “And your father likes to court teenage boys for two weeks every summer in Thailand, so you’re just projecting your demons onto an easy target, but if you’re not my friend anymore…” I bite out my words and dig my fingers in harder, “I just don’t know how I’ll survive.”

She groans.

“Everyone will believe you and not me,” I tell her, both of us knowing that’s not true at all. “Because your word means so much more than mine, right?”

Wrong.

I continue, the sudden rush of power emboldening me. “I’ll lose all my friends,” I say. “The rest of the school year will suck. No parties. No prom. Can you imagine the TikToks and tweets? In fact, I think I have several gay-bashing tweets for you to find on my feed. I think I also have a picture of myself in blackface at a Halloween party from a few years ago.”

The threat hangs in the air, her eyes widening as she remembers who’s really in fucking control here.

“Clay…”

“Those have probably been screenshotted already,” I say, feigning concern. “Won’t look good when I apply to Omega Chi or go for a fucking job interview in five years. Hatred for me will go viral.” I gasp. “Oh no, Amy. You’ve got me.”

“I was Beyoncé…” she whimpers, trying to explain her Halloween costume, but I push her into the wall again before I let go.