Cherry by Lindsey Rosin Page A

word.
    It didn’t hurt.
    Not really.
    Or, not exactly.
    But it wasn’t all that comfortable, either.
    â€œAre you okay?” he asked softly. She nodded. She was. Nick pulled out a little and then slid back inside, slowly at first and then faster, finding a rhythm . . .
    It was all sort of sudden and mostly clumsy.
    As it was happening, Emma kept having the urge to remind herself that it was, in fact, happening.
    This , she kept thinking.
    This is sex, and this is real, and it’s all really happening.
    Emma was losing her virginity right now, at this very moment.
    And then the moment ended, just as quickly and awkwardly and sincerely as it had begun.
    And that was it.

148 days until graduation . . .
    LAYLA did not expect it to happen quite so fast.
    Obviously, the whole point of the sex pact was to actually have sex, but Emma’s sexie more or less came out of nowhere.
    â€œWhat’s a sexie?” Zoe asked as they waited in line at The Bigg Chill.
    â€œAn after sex selfie, a sexie,” Layla explained.
    â€œOh, is that what we’re calling it?” Alex asked.
    Yes it was. Layla was very proud of her new name.
    After Nick left Emma’s house last night, not too long after they’d had sex, Emma snapped a picture of herself and all her postcoital afterglow and sent it to The Chat. She added a text message saying that she nailed it .
    The (not-yet-named) sexie as well as Emma’s text message came as a complete surprise to Alex and Layla and Zoe, who didn’t even know Emma was hanging out with Nick, let alone sleeping with him. Once the girls realizedthat Emma wasn’t joking, and that she had, in fact, just had sex with Nick—and therefore lost her virginity to Nick—they sent an avalanche of texts, full of expletives and exclamation marks and emojis. Layla was pretty sure they’d sent more texts per minute than ever before in the history of The Chat.
    â€œI haven’t even managed to kiss a boy since we started the pact, and Emma’s already done with it.” Zoe laughed.
    â€œShe’s not done,” Layla corrected with a big smile.
    â€œTrue,” Emma admitted. “Still waiting on the fireworks . . .”
    â€œShhh,” Zoe said as they reached the front of the line, where Bigg Chill Aaron was waiting to take their order.
    â€œWhat are we shhh-ing about?” he whispered.
    Surprising no one, his question made Zoe blush—and that was even before Layla honestly answered, “Fireworks.”
    Of course Bigg Chill Aaron didn’t really know what that meant, but it still made his lips curl up into a sideways smile. There was always something memorable about his smile, Layla thought. His bottom teeth were slightly crooked, not in a bad way, but just enough to be interesting, and he had a little scar right below his bottom lip. The girls had known him only since September, when he started his freshman year at UCLA, but they’d seen him every single Sunday since, and now he was by far their favorite Bigg Chill employee. They always made small talk as they placed their orders, but the truth was they didn’t know all that much about him other thanthe fact that he grew up in Philadelphia and was always incredibly generous with his frozen yogurt and topping portions.
    Today everyone collectively decided to order large sized cups instead of their usual small servings, because Emma lost her virginity last night, and it was just that kind of day.
    â€œTell. Me. Everything,” Layla insisted once the girls had settled at their usual table.
    â€œI texted you most of it . . .”
    â€œYeah, but I still have so many questions,” Layla said. “Like, did you like it?”
    â€œThe sex?”
    â€œYes, duh, the sex.”
    â€œYeah. It was good. I told you it was good. Why do you keep asking like you don’t believe me ?”
    â€œMaybe it’s the tone of your