The very next day, for the first time ever, I wake up to a picture of Aden Arrington.

He woke up a few minutes ago, presumably because the side of his face is lined with the pattern of his sweatshirt. His cheeks are puffed up and his eyes semi-swollen. His hair is sleeked back in a messy bun and his lips are half-smiling. I exit the image to see the caption.

Aiden: Good morning Princess 😊

I expect to feel unsettled by the nickname, but instead I’m gripped by the comfortable familiarity of his attention. I can’t deny how much I missed him; missed waking up and smiling at my little phone screen. I send him a smiley face and start my day off with my habitual shower.

At school, I stifle a giggle as I view another picture he sends me in the afternoon. Some people turn back at the noise, but the only movement I acknowledge is Sybil sitting next to me. When I pass the phone to her, she slaps her hand in front of her mouth as her head bobs with mirth.

This time Aden is laying on his forearm, stationed on the window of some car with the wind flying past him, lifting his hair. The video shows his eyes opening and closing as the car speeds.

Aiden: I feel like Mufasa

Me: The mane, huh?

Aiden: How did you guess?

Me: Wish you were here

Aiden:…

Me: I miss running my fingers through it

Aidan: Should I send a picture with Callisto’s hand in it?

I shake my head, smiling. I never got to see this goofy, completely relaxed version of Aden before.

By the looks of it, I’m in for a treat from now on. Day after day, I’m surprised by his creative poses as well as his eagerness. He did promise to help me forget about LA. But watching him succeed is beyond comical.

Every time I see his adorable face, I can’t help myself; my heart melts a little. The feelings I had for him are returning with an ease I never could have anticipated after all the hurt he inflicted.

The days go by and he becomes busier, but never absent.  He still sends me three pictures a day without fail. With time, I notice things I never got to before now. A few days later, I see pimples sprouting on his forehead. It’s an oddly reassuring sight.

On another day, he appears shirtless on my screen. He’s wrapped in white linen with the sexiest come-to-bed eyes. I bite my finger absentmindedly. Why does he look so delicious? The last time I saw him with his shirt off was during the weekend he had spent with me here in Cleveland.

The memory brings a smile to my lips and a quaver to my body. What wouldn’t I do to be chest-to-chest with him again? To feel the smooth skin of his shoulders beneath my fingertips? To kiss his lips and grip his forearms in lustful desperation? He makes it so easy to fall back in love with him.

“You’re the best part of my day – every day.” he says one afternoon. I shake my head.

“Stop, you cheesy fuck.”

“I’m serious. There’s so much more I want to tell you.”

“Why don’t you?”

“I don’t want to scare you away.”

“When has that ever worked?”

He skips over that answer and I know why. Well. We’re not impervious to hiccups.

“I love hearing you snort in laughter.”

“I do not!”

“Oh, yes you do. It’s the most royal thing about you.”

“What else?”

“I love the sound of your voice. I love the way you scrunch up your nose when you’re trying not to sneeze. I love that weird sound of you sucking on your teeth when you’re thinking and how you always shake your head whenever I say anything cheesy.”

“I never do that!”

“You’re doing it right now, aren’t you?”

I burst out laughing because of course, he’s right. Must be a tick of mine.

Days later, he asks for a video of me. Obviously, the first one is incredibly clumsy, but soon I get the hang of it. It’s only after one instance, though, that I understand the perils of my new habit.  I’m speaking to Aden one day, and he thanks me for the last video I sent him.

“What video?”

I don’t recall sending him one.

“The one of you and your friends. You were so adorable.”

“Uh, could you give me a minute?”

I panic, hoping it’s not what I think. I play the video back and see my face smiling up at my friends.

“It’s a video for Aden. I want him to see me surrounded by flowers.”

“All you need to do to complete the ceremony now is weave the flowers into a crown and wear a long white night gown. Don’t forget to go barefoot, cause good virgin girls always go barefoot – shoes are for sluts and heels are for harlots.” Tonya taunts in her usual fashion.

“Only Sybil thinks that’s funny.” says Danatha, taking a bite of her sandwich.

“It’s from a fantasy novel I suggested she read.”

“Yeah, the perfect fantasy for a cult leader. By the way, anybody got an army knife to cut her hand? We need her irresistible blood to get Aden to mysteriously appear in Cleveland, so he can protect her from other vampires who are bad and naughty and …” Tonya stops for dramatic effect. “Not good – like him.”

“Tonya!” I giggle.

“What? I once found a picture online in one of those Qutees’ fan-pages and you could clearly see red eye. And one of the pictures showed that Jude has yellow eye in photos as well. Teams, anyone? They’re not brothers though; and it’s not like Jude is an ethnic minority, but I think it still works, right? Cause I’m team Jacob – I mean – team Jude.”

We all burst out laughing and the video ends seemingly because I ran out of space.

For the first time ever, I’m glad for the fact that we always laugh for a solid three minutes at a joke; because first we laugh at the joke, then we laugh at Sybil laughing at the joke – to be honest, snorting would be the more accurate term here.

The rest of the conversation though, was not anything I want Aden to ever hear.

“I’m not even a virgin.” I said, letting all eyes settle on me.

Tonya and Sybil were shocked at the fact while Danatha was shocked that I revealed that so casually. She wasn’t wrong for reacting that way; she knows me well.

For a long time, I didn’t want to talk about my first time. I’ve only ever told two people about it: Danatha and Zeke – and I only told Zeke out of guilt. I felt bad for boning his friend and not telling him the day it happened – especially because he had been in the next room while it happened.

“Since when?” glowered Tonya. Sybil’s mouth slid wide open.

“Two years ago, with a friend of Zeke’s.”

“Do I know him?”

“I don’t think so. Ky goes to North-Western.”

“Kyle Letherford? What the actual fuck, dude? He’s such a shit lay!”

“What?!” I was jolted and simultaneously horrified. “You slept with Ky?!”

“No, but word on the street–”

“Word on the street?!”

“Look, I hope you wore a condom.”

“Oh, gross.”

What Danatha’s words didn’t convey, was evident in Sybil’s repulsed expression.

“Oh my God! Can you get STDs from semen being shot outside your vagina? Like onto the hood and my lower belly area?!”

Sybil made a puking sound as Tonya burst out laughing.

“He pulled out? Well, you can’t say he isn’t a master of his craft.” She chortled.

Danatha’s hand came over my shoulder, with an amused, but reassuring smile lining her lips.

“That’s not how it goes, Kay. If he did what you’re saying, you should be fine. Plus, it’s been so long; you would have noticed if you had an STD by now, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” I acquiesced as Tonya held her belly and laughed.

“I thought you were getting Bs in biology. Did you get A plus for everything else and fail anatomy?”

That conversation is the very reason why I was opening my search engine when Aden called. It’s not that I’m embarrassed about not being a virgin or even about confessing that Ky practically treated me like a prostitute. I never realised how much I didn’t understand about sex until now. I never considered it.

After the dull experience I had with Ky, there was nothing to wonder about. But now that I have borne witness – thanks to Aden – to the sparks that can fly without even touching the vagina itself, I need to further investigate my pleasure. I want to know how that works for both women and men.

“So, can I get another one?”

“Damn, you sound like a pushy old man.”

“I am positively relieved that you didn’t call me a cult leader or a blood sucker.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re all interchangeable.” I retort, sneering.

Three days later find me zooming into my two babies in their little cage as they keep bouncing around, spreading the seeds that were laid out for them a few minutes prior.

“Guys, no!” I groan as Danatha laughs at my exasperation. I’ve been trying to get them to do the tip-a-seed trick, but they won’t.

“You see, Aden? This is what they do to me when I’m trying to launch them into super-stardom.”

Once I end the video, I throw myself on the bench to sulk on Danatha’s shoulder.

“Now you listen to me, Queen McKenzie, Co-ruler of the Realm of Parakeetz, Mother of Ballar.”

“Corny.” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Whatever. These two are not well-behaved circus animals.”

“You would think they are with all the clownery they keep pulling.”

“No, honey. You’re the one doing clownery and as wise Monique says, when you do clownery, the clown comes back to bite.

“Do you know if Jude has said anything about me?” Danatha asks, giving me pause. I face her. I can tell my gaze is making her uncomfortable. “I just want to know. He kind of disappeared.”

“No. Aden hasn’t said anything about him. Should I ask him?” I offer reluctantly.

“Uh, look at Bellene!” she squeaks, diverting the focus off her.

Sure enough, Bellene tipped a seed.

“Danny? I never asked, but–”

“What?”

“Why did he pay for you to go to LA?”