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“You know you look like a ho,” Sam tells me, cocking her brow like it’s a question.

“Shut up,” I respond dismissively, although I can’t hide my smile. It’s only a blip of happiness that’s quickly dimmed by my rising anxiety.

After putting on another coat of caramel apple lip gloss, I step back and try to pull my jean skirt down. It doesn’t budge much though.

“Is it too much?” I ask her, feeling an overwhelming need to hide and not go out tonight. My heart races as my gaze sweeps from my short skirt to the clock on the far wall of my bedroom. It’s one thing to think about sneaking out to meet a boy. It’s another to actually do it.

Samantha rolls her eyes as she slips on a white blazer over her short red dress. It’s skintight, showing off her curves and barely hiding her breasts, but Sam’s always showing off her boobs.

She hit puberty first and it was damn good to her. Not so much to me.

“It’s perfect,” she says with a wink.

“My mom would kill me,” I mutter as I take one last look in the mirror.

“Well, your mom’s not here, so there’s nothing to worry about,” Sam says like this is no big deal.

“I don’t know,” I say softly. Sam’s my friend. My best friend. I’ve never kept anything from her. She already knows my stomach’s acting up. She devoured half the pizza we ordered with the twenty bucks my mom left us for dinner. Almost all of my half is still untouched in the kitchen. I’m leaving the box on the counter. I know it’ll tick my mother off to see I left it out, but I do it every time Sam stays over and I don’t want her to think we were up to anything.

Like sneaking out.

My heart flutters again with anxiety, racing and warning me yet again, that this is stupid. That I’m stupid.

Sam’s face falls slightly and she leans against my dresser as she asks me, “Is it because you think Mike’s going to want some?”

I huff out a sarcastic laugh and shake my head no as I stare at the ceiling to avoid her prying eyes.

“I thought you wanted to?” she asks me with genuine interest.

“I do,” I answer immediately. “I’ve been thinking about how I want to do it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin,” Sam says, and there’s a look on her face I can’t place. Not even a trace of a smile is there. “If you want to wait, then wait.”

“It’s not that, I just really like him and what if he’s not into it?” I swallow thickly and pick at my nail polish. “Or what if that’s not what he expects,” I tell her and shrug as if it doesn’t matter.

“But you want it too, don’t you?” she asks. Samantha straightens her back and I can see her swallow as she looks straight ahead. “I want to know what it’s like,” she admits to me.

“I know. I want to know too,” I tell her as if that’s not obvious. “I just really like him, but if we do it tonight, is Mike going to think that I’m like … easy or something?”

“Oh, please,” Samantha says and rolls her eyes. “You’re thinking about this too much. If you want to do it, then do it. If you don’t, then don’t. It’s literally that easy,” she says and then turns back to the dresser, the tension from just a moment ago apparently all but forgotten.

“We’re finally in high school, Allie,” Sam tells me and I nod my head although I keep my eyes on my reflection. I wish I looked like it. Sam’s more mature and it’s obvious, but it’s the confidence she has that I truly lack.

“Sneaking out is like a rite of passage,” she says. “I get that you like Mike and all, but just have fun tonight.”

“But there’s so much pressure,” I tell her, feeling anxiety running through me again.

Sam shrugs, twisting the cap to her lip gloss back on and striding toward the bed for her shoes. “So what?” she asks me. “It’s just a party and it’s going to be a blast, and everything’s going to be fine.”

“Are you going to drink?” I ask her and then feel like I’m my mother.

She laughs and her eyes go wide as she says, “Duh!” As she ties up the laces to her shoes around her ankles she adds, “Are you even sure his brother got the beer?”

“He said he was getting all sorts of things.” Mike’s brother is a few years older and it’s his party technically. Mike invited me and Sam. I was so excited when he told me, but right now I’m feeling something completely different.

“And what’d you tell him?” she asks me.

“That I like vodka,” I say softly, feeling my cheeks heat with a blush and she laughs again.

“Have you ever even had vodka?” she teases me.

“Shut up,” I tell her again. “It’s not like you’ve had it before.”

“Check it out,” Sam says in a singsong voice as she reaches into her tote bag. It’s all smooth black leather and I think she stole it from her mom’s closet.

“Holy shit,” I say under my breath and walk to the bed with my eyes focused on the bottle.

“It’s like a party present or something,” Sam says as I pick up the bottle of red blend wine. “Hostess favor,” she says, although it sounds like a question. “Is that what it’s called?” she asks me.

I set the heavy bottle back down in her bag. “I don’t know,” I tell her, still feeling uneasy.

“Hey, relax,” Sam says and then shifts on my bed. It creaks under her weight. “As far as your mom knows, we’re having a sleepover and tomorrow morning when she comes home, we’ll be right here.” She pats the bed and then grips my shoulders. “Tonight we’re going to go to Mike’s house,” she says and tilts her head and emphasizes my crush’s name. “And we’re going to be chill and cool and he’s going to get to know you better.”

“Maybe we can use the wine to play spin the bottle?” I ask her as the idea of sitting in Mike’s basement and playing makes me feel giddier than anything else has tonight.

Her smile widens and her eyes brighten. “Fucking fantastic idea,” she squeals. “This is why I love you,” she adds and then jumps off the bed.

“It’s not because we’ve been friends for forever?” I joke back with her.

“Best friends for life!” she answers and then twirls her long, dark brown hair around her finger. “Seriously, tonight is going to be amazing,” she says with so much excitement and happiness, it’s contagious.

“Can I ask you something?” I cut through the happiness … yet again.

“Anything,” Sam says instantly, looking right at me and giving me her full attention.

“Does it make me a whore if I want to have sex?” I ask her. “Like, even if I don’t really want to be with Mike, but I want to know what it’s like?”

“Pretty sure that’s normal, babe,” she says with a smile. “If not, I’m fucked.”