"Hanna, I need your advice."

There. I'd finally said it.

It had only taken me twenty minutes to work up the courage. I was only saying it now, in the safety of the darkened dorm room, because Hanna had already brushed her teeth and let her head hit the pillow, and the girl had an enviable knack for slipping into a near-coma in thirty seconds flat. If I didn't beat her brain to it, who knew when I'd get my next chance?

She lifted her head, and already my face was flushing in the dark.

"Yeah? What about?"

I paused. Eyes fixed on the ceiling, Hanna in my peripheral vision. Then: "I think I'm going to have sex with Josh soon."

This time, she didn't just lift her head, but prop up her entire body on her elbow. If she'd been close to sleep before, that definitely wasn't the case any longer. "You are?"

"Yeah."

Now I'd said it aloud, the idea seemed to settle better in my head. Maybe because, out in the open, it wasn't being suffocated by internal deliberation—tied into tangled knots every time my mind went back and forth. I'd finally given it a little space to breathe.

It was hardly a wild thought in the first place. Josh and I had been dating for two months now: enough time for the concept of having a boyfriend to stop feeling so unusual and instead just a normal part of my life. The physical side was no exception. Affectionate pecks had turned easily into passionate kissing, and his hands on my waist became my body pinning him to the mattress with almost no thought at all. Every time we seemed to edge closer—and the weirdest part was that it didn't freak me out anymore.

Partly because it was Josh, and I trusted him more and more every day.

But also partly because it was, well, fun.

I knew what we were leading up to would be fun, too... but that didn't mean I wouldn't feel better with a few pointers from someone wiser.

"When did this happen?" Hanna asked.

"When did what happen?"

"This change of heart. You used to freak out when I mentioned it. I could see it in your eyes. But now you're here, telling me it's going to happen. Something changed."

I frowned, still not sure what she was getting at. "Nothing changed. Except me, I guess. I just... realized I wanted to do it?"

Hanna reached over and flicked a switch; suddenly, the lamp on her bedside table flooded the room with light. "Right answer," she said, sliding her eye mask over her forehead and sitting up fully. "If you'd have said anything else, we would not be having this conversation. But here you are. Ready to bone. I'm so proud."

"Hanna!"

"Sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all. "So what do you need me for?"

"I don't know. Practical advice, I guess?"

"I mean, the logistics are pretty straightforward," she said. "But if you can't figure it out, there'll be one other person present who I'm sure will be very happy to show you what goes where..."

"Hanna," I said again. "I think I can handle what goes where. I'm just... daunted by the whole first-time thing, I guess?"

"First of all, virginity is a social construct." She pointed a finger at me like a stern parent. "So don't let any ridiculous expectations get into your head. You're not gonna be used tape or a rose without petals or whatever bullshit those purity-obsessives come up with next. You're not gonna be a changed woman afterward—physically or mentally. If you do get a miraculous new outlook on life from a four-inch piece of anatomy... well, maybe write a book or something. But it's not gonna happen."

Thanks to two words in that sentence, my face was flushing again. "Hanna. I know."

"I'm kidding on the four inches, by the way," she said, with a smirk. "I'm sure Josh is packing more than that."

I buried my face in my pillow. "I'm regretting this entire conversation."

"Look, okay. I'll give you my actual tips. Number one: take it slow. Way slower than you think you need to. There's no such thing as too much foreplay. You should be begging for it before anything goes anywhere."

I lifted my face slightly, daring to look in her direction of the room. I could still feel the heat, but I could get over that; here was obviously something I needed to pay attention to. "Okay."

"Number two: you need to go out and buy some lube. Let me tell you, it is not a middle-aged woman thing. It makes everything easier and feels better—for both of you."

"Really?"

"One hundred percent." She nodded. "If Josh doesn't know that already, then you can be the one to show him. And if he gets weird about it, well, there's a major red flag you'll be glad you spotted this early."

"I don't think he would."

"Then it's a win-win situation," she said. "Put it on your grocery list."

I had to admit: the more she kept talking, the more I felt myself relax. I could always rely on Hanna to give me what I needed. She was so rational and chilled; with every snippet of practical advice, the thing that seemed unfamiliar and terrifying was chipped away, the pieces raining at my feet as tiny, manageable steps. She did exactly what I wished my own brain was capable of.

"Okay," I said. "Keep going."

"Number three: pick your position wisely. You're probably thinking missionary, because it's the obvious one, right?"

Honestly, I hadn't got that far yet, but that was where my mind went then. "Yeah."

"Well, obvious doesn't mean best," she said. "It's your first time, which means you should be the one in control. Makes it easier to relax, too. I suggest you on top."

That sounded a little intimidating. "Are you sure?"

"Trust me," she said, nodding wisely. "I know I'm gay, but I also slept with way more guys in high school than it should've taken me to realize I wasn't, in fact, bisexual. Sometimes I think it was a waste of my time, but I did pick up a few tips along the way. And missionary seems fine until you're lying there with bruised hipbones and an unflattering view of his chin, wishing he'd slow down just a couple hundred miles an hour. I'm telling you—the grass is greener."

I screwed my nose up, a little unnerved by the graphic mental image. "This is a lot to take in. I feel like I should be taking notes."

"It's not, really," she assured me. "I mean, maybe when you talk about it like this, but in the moment it'll all happen naturally. The best thing you can do is not expect it to be some earth-shattering experience. It'll be weird, maybe a little awkward, but it should be fun—and you should also want to go back for more."

I felt myself exhale. "Okay."

"I just have one last tip," she said. Then, the finger was pointing at me again. "Always. Pee. After. Sex. No exceptions."

"That one I know," I said, with a small smile. "They told us in high school sex ed."

"But they didn't tell you about the raging UTI turned kidney infection I got after sleeping with Layton Cooper in junior year."

"They didn't, but you definitely did."

"God, that was painful. It was like pissing acid."

I grimaced. "I really don't need to know the details."

"The details are what will make sure you learn from my mistakes," Hanna pointed out. "It's the golden rule, you hear me? Pun definitely intended."

I chose this moment to throw a pillow at her.

"What?" she exclaimed. "I'm only speaking the truth." She inspected the pillow for a couple of seconds, then placed it on top of her existing one and settled her head back down. "You're not getting this back, you know. I've been meaning to buy another one, and you just solved my problem. Consider it payment for my high-class sex advice."

"How do I know it's high-class?"

"Get back to me when you've done it," she said, unfazed. "I don't think you'll have any complaints."

We must've been getting somewhere, because this time my face didn't flush and there wasn't a single part of me that wanted to turn away. In fact, the longer I looked at Hanna, with her blonde hair fanned out on my pillow and a grin spreading from ear to ear, the more the warmth came from inside me instead. I was so lucky to have her. I was so lucky to still have her, not only at the same college, but only ever a couple of yards away on the other side of my room.

Where other friends might have drifted apart, the universe was doing everything it could to keep us together.

"What?" Hanna said. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

I shook myself out of my thoughts. "No reason," I said, with a small smile. "I guess I just wanted to thank you. For everything."

She frowned, allowing for a few beats of pause, like she was expecting me to burst into a fit of laughter. When I didn't, it seemed to confuse her even more. "For everything?" she echoed. "Are you dying, or something? What are you trying to tell me?"

"No, I'm not dying." I rolled my eyes. "And I'm not trying to tell you anything. Am I not allowed to be nice?"

"You're allowed, but it's weird."

"You could say something nice back, you know."

She gave me a look. "You know I don't do well with feelings, Morg. If you try to get any more out of me, I might freak out and ghost you. Ask literally any of the girls I've texted over the last couple of months."

"Point taken," I said, holding my hands up in defence. "But you know what I said."

"I know. And I'm also going to sleep before I cringe to death. Goodnight." She reached for the lamp again, and a flick of the switch plunged us back into darkness.

There were a few seconds of silence: long enough, I assumed, for Hanna to close her eyes and make pretty good headway on slipping into unconsciousness. For me, it would be more like an hour, especially now I was down one pillow. Although I did feel much more relaxed now the confession was off my chest.

I'd been certain about my decision before, but after confiding in Hanna, the last piece of doubt had vanished.

At that moment, a voice edged through the silence. "Morgan?"

"Yeah?"

Another pause. All I could hear was the sound of my steady breathing, and it went on long enough for me to wonder whether I'd imagined it. Then, quietly, "You're welcome. To everything."

In the dark, I smiled to myself, before settling down to sleep.

----------------------

Bit of a time skip here (I hope that was clear!) because of the slightly messy and inconvenient task of slotting the BEFORE and AFTER chapters together in the right way. I hope there's no confusion, and I hope it doesn't feel too soon for Morgan to be contemplating sex! Let me know what you think.

I love this chapter simply for the bond between Morgan and Hanna. It's such a stark contrast to AFTER but that makes it all the more poignant.

Until next time...

- Leigh