Chapter 2

“Hello hello! Nicole, is that you?” the voice of my mother called out as we entered the front door.

Nicole’s left eye twitched. She turned her head and shot me a look, a look that told me, ‘I’m going to have to talk to your parents for way too long before we’re going to get any time alone.’

As best as I could, I told her right back with my expression, ‘maybe we should have done more in the car when we had the chance.’

My mom emerged from her office, giving a warm smile to Nicole. “It’s good to see you again! How are things?”

“Adam set fire to the Council room today. It took three firefighters to put it out. The good news was, we got off early today,” Nicole flatly replied before smiling at my mom and walking to the kitchen.

Mom’s smile was frozen on her face. “That’s a joke, right, sweetie?” she asked me with waning confidence.

“Yeah, mom, it’s a joke,” I confirmed. “Or, at least, whatever Nicole thinks passes as a joke these days.”

“Yeah, bring your A game, George Carlin,” Nicole’s voice snapped back from the kitchen. “Sorry that not everyone can be the genius of comedy that is you.”

“It’s so nice to see the happy couple being all sweet with each other,” my dad dryly noted as he prepared dinner. Dad loved to be sarcastic, but he never smiled, and today was no exception. An insecure girlfriend would worry that he didn’t like her, but not Nicole.

“Whatcha cooking, step-daddy?” she asked with bubbly interest. I walked in to see her looking over dad’s shoulder with interest.

“Just some chicken provençal with rice and vegetables,” Dad answered.

“Ooh, we’re going Julia Child tonight, huh?” When she was in a good mood, her primary language was references I didn’t quite get. “ ... You got any saffron? I bet that would go super well with the rice.”

“ ... Saffron? Uh, no, I don’t think so,” Dad replied. He was always able to deal with everyone calmly and fluently. Nicole was the first person he seemingly ever met that managed to catch him off-guard. So, naturally, she milked that as much as she could.

“ ... Yeah, looked like you’re right,” she mumbled, looking through our spice cupboard. “Ugh, what a shame ... oh well. Looks like the stock is already boiling. Is that chicken or fish?”

“Vegetable, actually,” Dad answered.

“Wait, veggie?” She took a spoon from the counter and sampled the stock. The fact that it was boiling should have had an effect on her, but nope, Nicole was Nicole. “Huh.” Her face was entirely expressionless.

“If you want to try making the rice...” Dad began to say.

She broke out into a smile. “Thanks,” she replied before Dad could even finish his sentence. In an instant she replaced the stock and began raiding our spice cabinet for what she wanted to put in the rice stock. “Question – the chicken. Bay leaves or no bay leaves?”

“We used bay leaves, yeah,” Dad replied, just watching her. Mom was now intently watching her too.

“Ugh, you guys are smart. I knew there was a reason I started dating Adam.” She hurried around the kitchen, making just enough time to kiss me on the cheek before resuming her complete takeover of the rice station. “You know, I told my parents to use bay leaves more in their cooking, but...”

“ ... which is funny, since on the one hand their discovery of quinine’s uses in treating malaria saved countless lives, but on the other, it basically allowed the British to go ahead colonizing and enslaving most of Africa and India without any major obstacles,” Nicole continued to think out loud while the rest of us finished eating.

“That’s very fascinating,” Mom replied warmly.

“I’m glad you said it,” Dad commented dryly towards Nicole. “I was going to and you saved me the effort.”

“So, like, what even is progress when we look at history?” she finished the thought. “Anyway, how was the rice?”

“I’ll admit, you did really well,” Dad replied, nodding. “It went particularly well with the chicken.”

Nicole smiled triumphantly. “Thank you, thank you,” she said dramatically.

“You’re a great cook, Nicole,” I replied. “Especially for your age. I still can’t cook ... anything.”

“That can change,” Nicole pointed out.

“You have both your father and Nicole to learn from!” Mom chimed in. “You should take advantage of that.”

“Speaking of taking advantage, can I help with the dishes?” Nicole offered with a smile.

Dad got a twinkle in his eyes, the kind that basically acted as his smile. “You’ve done enough,” he joked. “You’re our guest, not our prisoner.” He got up and started to take the dishes away.

“Okay, if you’re sure,” she replied, pushing herself away from the table. “In that case, Adam and I will be upstairs.”

“Hey, who said anything about me going up with you?” I asked.

“Fair point. I’ll be upstairs,” she corrected herself. “Rearranging all of your clothes. If you don’t want to miss the bus tomorrow, feel free to join me.” Before any of us could comment further, she was gone. I wanted to play it off like I wasn’t worried, but ... Nicole was fairly unpredictable.

Mom caught my expression and tried to alleviate the tension. “She has so much energy,” Mom commented enviously. “She’s not giving you a hard time, is she?”

“Funny, I was going to ask you the same question,” I joked. “Mind if I go join her?”

“Go right ahead,” Mom replied with a smile.

Dad coughed to get my attention before I could disappear upstairs. “Door open, please,” he noted.

I acknowledged him, then continued my way upstairs, into my room. To my absolute horror, Nicole did not make any empty threats today.

“Your clothes were in a pile,” she complained when she saw my face. She was holding up a shirt of mine, folding it. “And you do not want to know how I figured out which was the clean pile and which was the dirty. You have a hamper, for God’s sake. Use it.”

“Nicole, I knew what was in those piles. I got used to those piles,” I complained.

“Oh shit, really? I thought you hated those piles but bravely carried on anyway.” She rolled her eyes. “And close the door.”

“Dad asked me to keep the door open.”

“Yeah, I know. I heard him.” She waited, then rolled her eyes again, getting up and closing the door again.

“Nico-!”

“What? They never come up here anyway. Just say I did it. Blame it on me. Boom, problem solved.” She finished folding a shirt and put it back in the drawer. “I put labels on these a bit ago, just use them. It’s a good system if you give it a chance.” She walked back to my bed and flopped down onto it, burying her face in my pillow.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I think your parents still hate me,” she complained.

Huh. Didn’t see that coming. “Why?”

“Your mom asking if I’m giving you problems, your dad giving me this stone face no matter what I do...”

“I told you, and you’ve, like, seen it for months. Dad never smiles.”

“He smiled once, to your mom. They were in the living room and were having a moment. I saw it.”

I lowered an eyebrow. “Yeah, it was their anniversary. He was feeling sentimental. Unless you plan on leaving me to try to seduce my dad, I don’t think that’ll ever happen.”

Nicole raised her head and pretended to think it over. “Nah, better not, I like your mom too much,” she teased. I grabbed the pillow and hit her in the face, causing her to laugh. Eventually, we settled on cuddling on the bed, me curled up into her side. It used to work better before, but...

“Fuck. You’re taller than me now, aren’t you?” Nicole realized at the same time I did.

“Wow,” I nearly breathed. It was happening. I really was becoming a man. “But you were like, much taller than me last year!”

“It was only a few inches, calm down.”

“Y’know, a few inches makes a big-”

“Shut up.” We both laughed. “Congrats, squirt. You’re growing up.” She squeezed me tighter. “It sucks.”

“What?” I sat up. “Why?”

“I dunno. I’m proud of you for growing, but ... I will kinda miss having itty bitty Adam around. It’s kinda nice having things stay the same. But now you’re getting taller and actually studying and...”

“I started hitting the gym last year,” I countered. “That was change.”

“Yeah, but we weren’t dating yet,” she whined, pushing me back onto the bed and getting on top of me.

“Oh, so it’s only change while we’re dating?” I challenged her, pulling her into me and beginning to kiss her neck.

“It’s just a big change! Muscle builds over time, and you still kinda look like the same person. With a growth spurt, you look ... ahh...” Her tone got weaker as she felt my kisses turn more violent and passionate on her neck. My hardness began pushing through my pants, to the point where she could no doubt feel it too. “It changes you.”

“They could be good changes, couldn’t they?” I asked between neck kisses as I began to grind up against her.

She worked her shirt over her head. “They could be. Obviously, I’m a fan of the new you and I don’t want you to look like a kid forever.” She held up her boobs in front of my face and I eagerly started playing with them with my tongue. “Just ... hah ... just also miss the old you.” She leaned into my face, sighing contentedly, loving the feeling of my tongue on her skin.

I loved holding Nicole. Every moment we got to be around each other was still so electric. Even months after we became a couple, which was months after we started fooling around, it never felt tired. I caressed her back and brought her closer to me. “God, I love you,” I moaned, going back to sucking and biting her beautiful nipples immediately after.

Nicole moaned eagerly in response, arching her back and grabbing the back of my head, grinding on me the whole time.

I took my mouth off of her and sighed, half in contentment, half in frustration. “We both know that we can’t do anything here, right?” I asked.

Her look of desire instantly melted into annoyance. “Yeah,” she huffed.

“I mean, I would, but...”

“I know, I know. I get loud, we get in trouble, the door has to be closed,” she replied robotically, as if this had happened over and over. “You’re fifteen, not ten. This is America, not the USSR.” She collapsed next to me.

“What’s that again?”

“Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. Soviet Russia. Stalin shit,” she replied.

“Right...” I trailed off, not wanting to take anything more away from the mood we created.

“You know, for all they say about Stalin, they don’t really recognize how he kinda did the opposite of what communists wanted to do. Dude was basically an uber-capitalist, but admitting that means challenging a lot of what we think we know about world history. I mean, the way his regime privatized everything from vodka to-”

“Nicoooole,” I sang impatiently.

She looked at me and cracked a smug smile. “Oh, I’m sorry, is my lesson about how Stalin wasn’t actually a communist killing your boner?”

“Don’t get me wrong, normally I’d be throbbing listening to this,” I joked, with my reward being a pillow to the face.

“Well, if you’re not interested in a history lesson, I suppose we could always put to the test how quiet you are...” She purred, putting a hand on my crotch and rubbing it slowly.

I looked at the door, then back to her. “I think I’d be alright with that...” I replied with a smirk. “As long as I owe you later.”

“Always a gentleman,” she snickered, then tightened her grip on my crotch to the point of slight pain. “But first, lesson review. Since you like studying and shit. Who was Stalin again?”

“Ow...” I winced as her grip slowly got tighter with time. “Leader of Russia during the Soviet Union, right? The guy before Lenin?”

“After Lenin, but, good enough.” She released her grip on my dick, then began rubbing again. “Just keeping you on your toes.”

“You’re on a real ‘did you know’ thing lately, aren’t you?” I asked.

Despite the obscenity of rubbing my crotch and starting to undo my button, she actually blushed. “Ha, sorry,” she admitted, a rare occurrence for her. “I guess I’m learning a lot about history lately and just wanted to share it. Is it too much?” She pulled out my dick and began stroking it, biting her lip as she looked at it.

“Well, you’re giving me a handjob, who the fuck am I to argue?” I laughed.

“No, actually,” she insisted, still jacking me off. “Is it too much?”

“It’s not,” I soothed. “Just something I noticed.”

“Mrrh,” she murmured. “Maybe I should tone it down.” She started to kiss up and down my shaft and give it the occasional lick.

“Don’t worry,” I told her. “I like you for who you are.”

“Corny,” she replied, switching back to her hand. “I’m amazed you’re still hard if your jokes are gonna flop this much.”

“What can I say, you’re doing a good job,” I chuckled.

“Damn right,” she said with a wink. Not a word later, she effortlessly engulfed the head of my cock with her mouth and began to suck and play with the head using her tongue, making sure that no sensitive spot remained untouched.

I couldn’t think to do much more than just hang my head back and moan softly as Nicole did her thing. A lot of girls in high school loved to claim that they gave the best blowjobs, but Nicole never had to say anything. Her actions spoke for themselves. Her mouth felt like a warm wet velvet heaven on my cock; her mouth was blessed by the angels to just feel the best.

And it loved to be on my cock.

Despite the fact that I was the one without an occupied mouth, Nicole was still somehow the louder of us too. It could have been that she loved to moan with a dick in her mouth, or it could have been that she found a good position to pop open her fly and start fingering herself out of sheer need as she blew me.

“Hey,” I groaned. “I thought the whole reason I wasn’t giving you attention down there was because we couldn’t today. You’d make too much noise.”

Slowly, she stopped rubbing herself and popped her mouth off of my manhood. “Yeah, well, your dick makes a good pacifier, so I’m quieter,” she innocently explained.

“Ew, never say ‘pacifier’ during a blowjob again,” I laughed.

“Don’t interrupt your sexy slut girlfriend while she’s giving you a blowjob then,” came her sultry reply, along with a wink. At once, Nicole was back to bobbing her head up and down, doing what she seemed to love most. My hand guided her along, knowing she loved the feeling of her boyfriend’s hand pushing her head down.

I could feel her eyes gleaming and looking at me when she sensed that I was about to blow. She was such a pro at this, she seemed to know when I was close a microsecond before I did. As soon as her eyes were on me, I felt a tightening sensation and my eyes fluttered closed. Her deep blue eyes remained fixated on me nonetheless, taking in the sight and the panting sounds I made while I felt the pressure building, and building ... then releasing.

Stars broke out across my vision and I audibly gasped as I took in the sensations. My load shot into Nicole’s mouth, then again, then again. Her cheeks puffed up with my load, and eventually, spilled out, dribbling onto my thighs. Her own eyes fluttered, her horniness clearly only amplified by the feeling of my seed in her mouth.

“Fuck,” she drooled, eventually finding a used towel and cleaning us both off. “That was a bigger load than usual. Maybe you should stress yourself out and study more.”

“You’re such a slut for big loads,” I chuckle-panted.

“I’m such a slut for you,” she corrected.

“ ... You’re just such a slut,” I corrected again, and we both shared a small laugh. Her cheeks were still flushed with her horniness, and a clear slight glaze of lust was evident over her eyes. “It really feels like I should...”

“Outdo yourself the next time you eat me out? I agree, hotshot,” she cut me off. She held up her hand and smiled sympathetically. “It’s probably not a good idea, but you’re sweet for always thinking of me. I’m just loud, and today I’d be loud as fuck. There’s a reason I stopped fingering myself halfway through the blowjob.”

I paused to think as she put her shirt back on. “Yeah, see? Not just a pretty face. I think of this shit.” She glanced to the door. “I guess I have to, seeing as your Amish-ass parents wanna pretend we can’t do anything until we’re married.”

“I mean, they’re my parents. Most parents are like that,” I protested.

“Believe me, they’re not,” she argued. “I really think there’s something there. They don’t like me.”

“Didn’t you make them think you got me into smoking weed?” I asked.

“Yeah, to cover up for the whole us-having-sex thing, which sure seemed like a worse thing to them,” she replied, then scrunched up her face in thought. “Wait. No. I’m wrong. It was because they got pissy because you were acting out. Something like that. Point is, ol’ Nicole got the short end of the stick.”

I gripped the base of my cock, which was already starting to re-harden. “Yeah well, if you ever want the long end of the stick...”

“Oh my God, put that thing away before I break up with you,” she laughed, then a pause filled the room. “I wish I could at least sleep over one of these days. I offered to even sleep on the couch. The flippin’ couch. Clearly, I got honorable intentions if I’m offering to sleep on the damn couch. They have it out for me.”

“This is something that’s been bothering you for a while, hasn’t it?” I asked.

“I just wish someone’s parents just fuckin’ liked me for once,” she admitted in a surprisingly small voice given we just had passionate oral sex.

“When you leave, I can ask them,” I offered.

Nicole peered out the window at her own house. She wasn’t quite my neighbor, but lived only two doors away, so it was easy to see her house from my window. “Yeah, I should probably get going soon.”

“Lots to do?” I asked.

“More like, as long as they have a closed door policy, I’ll feel guilty being here for too long,” she admitted. “But yeah, lots to do. Yearbook stuff is starting to ramp up, and if we don’t get on top of shit now, end-of-semester is gonna be a nightmare.” She got up, watching me put my cock away and zip up my pants. “And we have the Student Council elections coming up. I need Megészségedre back.”

“You need what back?”

She rolled her eyes. “Megan, dummy.”

“Yeah, but what was the-?”

“Isn’t your mom Hungarian? I thought you’d appreciate the – whatever. Egészségedre. It means ‘cheers.’ Oh look, Nicole is going on a ‘did you know’ tangent again.”

I smiled. “Nicole is being sensitive again,” I said meaningfully.

She stopped and frowned, but eventually nodded. “Yeah,” she eventually admitted.

The tone clearly shifted. “Are you okay?”

“I dunno,” she honestly admitted. “I feel weird lately. Like ... not right.”

“Is it because I got to cum and you didn’t?” I asked, my tone still meaningful.

Nicole’s look turned baffled, then to laughter. She laughed for a few seconds solid before admitting, “No, squirt, it isn’t that.”

“I just thought ... well, whatever. Is it my parents?”

“No, but, uh ... you are right. Something is kinda eating at me. I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know what it is, I didn’t feel it until now, and now that’s gonna bother me.”

“Oh, sorry,” I replied, getting up.

“No! Don’t be. Believe me, don’t be.” She gave me a quick hug and smiled. “I want to know if something is bothering me. I think I just need to go home and think it over or something. I don’t think I’m usually ... you’re right, I’m being extra sensitive.”

“Well, if it’s something bad ... call me, okay?”

She grinned. “Call you? Why don’t we just open our windows and shout back and forth?”

“Hey, that works too,” I replied with a chuckle.

“Just be on top of shit. Who knows, maybe I’ll have a full mental breakdown on Sunday night and then you’ll have to handle the election all by yourself.” She laughed to herself.

“Don’t even joke,” I said with an uneasy chuckle.

“Relax, you’re on the other end this year,” she told me, waving my concerns away. “You can’t possibly have a panic attack during the election from the other end.”

“Such a baby,” Nicole repeated as she hugged me. “There’s like four grade niners in this room and you’re the most nervous one.” Nicole’s touch was as soft as ever, contrasting her boyish demeanor. She smelled like flowers and happiness.

“Mr. Scott said that he wanted me to give a speech!” I protested as we broke off the hug.

“He told you to say a few words,” she corrected me, then shrugged. “Y’know. You were the grade nine rep last year. Just mention that you know how they feel and that to this day you’re nervous giving speeches, then tell them good luck. Bam.” She started to walk away before turning back to me, smiling mischievously. “And no crying this year.”

I huffed, watching Nicole walk away. The gymnasium already felt huge, but it felt like it was growing before my very eyes. The stage area was getting set up for the election, with the finishing touches being put on it by a few Council members. That’s why they were here. Nicole knew exactly what she had to do, as always, and kept her entire to-do list in her head, running around with this adorably serious expression. Annoyingly, I had no idea what I was even expected to do. I shook my head and walked in a direction, any direction, to distract myself.

I ended up walking into the grade tens, who were now all looking expectantly at me. Shit, they thought I walked over to tell them something. I glanced over at Nicole who was talking to the grade nines, and figured that if the VP had to be in the gymnasium before the election, I may as well make myself useful.

“Hey guys!” I began strongly. “Uh, how’s it going? My name’s Adam Watson, and I’m your Student Council VP this year. Has Nicole already talked to you guys?”

“Nope, she hasn’t,” the voice of Nicole responded from right behind me, making me jump. “You got these guys, eh Adam? I guess I’ll be backstage.” She gave me a small smile and sauntered off.

“She just wants Megan to win,” one of the grade tens grumbled.

“Yeah, maybe she has a crush on her,” another piped up.

“Nicole is with Adam, guys,” Megan scoffed. She was the only girl there, with the other three being preppy-looking boys.

One boy ran his hand through his trendy-looking hair. “Isn’t that a conflict of interest or something?” he asked me.

“Um, I don’t know,” I replied, rapidly losing steam. “Anyways, uh, welcome to the election! So, for those of you who didn’t-”

“You’re in our grade, right?” one of them asked me.

“Yeah, I am.”

“How’d you do that? Like, I thought grade tens couldn’t even apply to be VP. Was it because you were Nicole’s boyfriend?”

“I became her boyfriend after I became VP,” I replied annoyedly.

The boy was silent for a bit, then turned to the one with the trendy hair. “Yeah, definitely a conflict of interest,” he mumbled to him.

“I’m listening, Adam,” Megan said gently.

“Thanks,” I grumbled. “Okay, so, you basically just sit up on those chairs on the gym’s stage over there and once your name is called, you give your speech. Going slightly off-script is okay, but you do have a time limit, probably around two minutes. No swearing, no attacking the other students.”

“Attacking?” trendy boy asked.

“Like, with your words,” another boy clarified.

“Oh.”

“Be sure to sit all together so we can tell you apart from the grade nines. If you get in, we’ll need you to keep up an average of 70, so like, C or better. We all good?” I asked, giving the boys the thumbs-up. Megan eagerly returned the thumbs-up, but at most the other boys gave me a polite nod. I rejoined Nicole back on stage, who was talking to Mr. Scott.

“ ... And we do want the professionalism of our Council to be upheld and appreciated,” Mr. Scott finished. He was a good principal, and really patient with most of the students, but whether it was for a good reason or not, Nicole was not one of those students.

“ ... So, I can’t go off-script? At all?” she asked.

“Yeah, I think that would be for the best, if that’s okay,” Mr. Scott agreed.

“Okay, but what if it’s just like a small thing? Like someone gives a huge ‘woo’ in the middle of my opening? Can I say ‘thanks’ or something?”

Mr. Scott stared at Nicole for a long time. “Nicole...”

“I’m just asking!” she protested.

Mr. Scott sighed. “Please, all I’m asking is for you not to find a loophole in my words. Just ... no surprises. You’re here to serve the school.”

“Here to serve the school,” Nicole repeated, an honest smile forming on her face. “That makes sense. Thanks.”

He stared at her again for a bit. “You’re welcome,” he replied with a small smile of his own. The smile got bigger and more enthusiastic when he saw me. “Good morning, Adam! Are you ready to inspire our candidates today?”

“I am, yeah, but...” The cogs turned in my brain. “You asked me to say a few words. I didn’t bring a speech today, so there’s nothing for me to follow.”

He chuckled merrily. “Oh, that’s okay, you don’t need a-...” His sentence caught in his throat. “I...”

“Don’t need a speech?” Nicole offered, a small smile on her face, her tone ominously calm. “Only some of us need a written speech at all, huh?”

“Nicole, you have to understand, we do this on a basis of ... some students are more spontaneous. Spontaneous and ... well, rambunctious. This is great for a lot of things. Representing the school? Not really one of them.” Scott was putting on his best politician voice for her.

Nicole was not returning the fake voice. She shook her head, a look of sadness clouding her face. “I just don’t get it. What did I even do? Most of the school fuckin’ loves me, but you guys keep feeling like you have to put this ... this leash on me! What did I even do to deserve that?”

“Hey, Nicole,” I cut in. “Sometimes these things mean a lot to some people. It’s not even about what you did, some people just want some things to go perfectly according to plan. If the election needs to go another way, let’s focus on that, but otherwise...” I trailed off, hoping she’d see reason.

She closed her eyes and seemingly counted to three, opening them again. “Okay,” she conceded, looking at Scott. “If the school wants it, I’ll follow the script. Adam doesn’t need a script. It’s because I’m unpredictable, and I gotta accept it. Alright?”

Mr. Scott clearly didn’t take any pleasure in cutting Nicole down to size like this. He only looked sad, not unlike how she did. “Okay. And...” He paused. “You are making the school proud. You’re a good student. It’s just ... complicated.”

“Yeah, it really is,” Nicole agreed, then turned away, going to the podium. I looked at Mr. Scott, who offered nothing more than a shrug my way, before walking off himself. I guess I didn’t need a script. I actually would have preferred one, but whatever.

The students were starting to fill the gymnasium, and Nicole and I stood in front of the podium, being mindful that the microphone could be turned on at any point.

“Fuck this fucking school up the fucking ass with a fucking pitchfork,” Nicole growled, shuffling some papers.

Well, I was being mindful. “Is having to give a scripted speech that bad?”

“Being told what to do when I do my best work unrestrained is that bad,” she answered tersely. “We’re being cut off at the knees all because, ‘Oh, what if Nicole says something weird?’ Get real.”

“Well, if the office people keep making your job hell, why do you still do it?” I asked.

Nicole’s scowl broke into a smile. “Because these students are the best, and deserve the world,” she told me. The echo of her words filled the gymnasium. The microphone was turned on with perfect timing, and a few students started cheering Nicole’s name as they heard her honest words.

“You might be the only politician I know who could have a mic gaffe of them saying the most good-for-PR thing,” I joked.

“My life is a sitcom,” she snickered back. She caught Mr. Scott staring at her, pointed to the mic and shrugged, breaking into a smile. I could see Mr. Scott shake his head, albeit with a small smile.

As I stood awkwardly on stage, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out, reading the message, which was from Sabrina.

I can see u up there : )

I smiled to myself. Much like Nicole and myself in first year, Sabrina and I were getting used to communicating mostly via text message, with, at most, a few smiles exchanged during classes. It was almost weird – it felt too weird to actually talk to her in person, but texting her felt like the most natural thing in the world. Unlike with Nicole, our texts were never sexual or even flirty, and there were certainly no nudes swapped, and yet...

I looked at Nicole, and thought about the blessing she gave me.

And yet it felt like both Sabrina and I wanted to flirt somehow. I mean, she explicitly asked if I was allowed to date someone in our first conversation, that had to mean something. Plus, she was a girl who gave me a lot of attention over the phone, and I was ... well, I was a teenage boy. For some reason, I just defaulted to hoping she had an interest in me and that I could do something about it. I was happy with Nicole, but ... if Nicole was happy with it, what was the harm? Was this what being in an open relationship was like?