“Umm, yeah, Dad. I get what you’re saying.”

I was hoping that would get him to stop, but nope. He kept right on going.

“You see, son, what a lot of kids don’t realize is just how serious sex is. Boys your age think they’re invincible. But the truth is, you’re not, and even if you use a condom and birth control, there’s no guarantee to prevent pregnancy. Your sperm, you know, it can be potent.” He tapped his index finger on his chin as if pondering how he should continue this conversation.

The urge to groan was strong, and for once, I was wishing Jenna would break curfew and get in trouble. Awful, I know, but anything to get my dad out of my room. No such luck, however. His eyes lit up as if the lightbulb in his brain had just clicked on.

“Sperm. Think of it like a rich fertilizer. Fertilizer that doesn’t always have a success rate. This kind of fertilizer is special. It has to hit the egg just right to make a baby, but even still, you have to be careful. It’s like the lottery. The more you play, the more likely you can win, and you’ll never know when you’re going to hit the jackpot. But if you don’t play, you have no chances of winning.”

“So, to be winning, you have to have sex?” I joked, making him look even more uncomfortable. Probably not a good idea when I wanted this topic of conversation to be over, but it just came out without a second thought.

“No!” he protested as all the color drained from his face. He pulled on his collar as if that’d help him breathe better. “That is not what I meant.”

“I’m just kidding, Dad. I know all about sex and reproduction and where babies come from. You can spare me The Talk. The last thing I plan on being is a teen dad. Trust me. I’m not having sex, and I don’t plan on it any time soon, okay?”

The color started to return to his face. Thank goodness. It was time to end our conversation.

As I started to walk out of my room in hopes of him following, my dad called my name. I glanced back to see him eyeing me contemplatively.

“You know, Jeremy. Sometimes best friends make the best lovers.”

I nearly choked but kept my composure and raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Dad? Lovers?”

He barked out a laugh. “I don’t mean in just a physical sense. It’s just… I don’t know. I could see Sierra as my daughter one day.”

The memory of my eight-year-old self proclaiming he was going to marry Sierra flashed in my mind.

I gave Dad a small smile. “Like I said, we’re not like that.”

But, as I walked down the hall, I wondered who I was trying to convince.

My dad or myself.

I was pretty sure it was the latter, and I wasn’t doing that good of a job at it.

THE FALL OF FRESHMAN year came and went quickly and without much excitement. Kind of like Jeremy.

Not that I would really know. After “the incident”—as I’d dubbed it—I always made sure to knock before entering his room, and I’d yet to witness another not-so-unfortunate event. Unfortunately.

After I’d fallen into a routine of school, cheering, and homework, there wasn’t much time left over for Jeremy. That didn’t mean we didn’t steal every moment we could with each other. We absolutely did. We had our study dates. Our Dawson dates. And we still walked the beach every weekend, even when it was chilly outside.

It took no time for things between us to go back to normal after the whole strokin’ incident. Well, mostly. For Christmas, I received a stuffed mouse from Jeremy. And when I say stuffed mouse, I don’t mean the animal. He literally sewed me a stuffed computer mouse. I couldn’t even be mad because of all the time and hard work he’d put into it. I, however, did not get him any sort of stroking memorabilia. The last thing I wanted to think about was Jeremy’s penis. Hell, any penis for that matter. But the image from that day was burned in my mind, resurfacing at the most inopportune times.

Like right then as I walked towards the biology class I had with Jeremy. Naturally, we were lab partners, and this was the absolute wrong day for my hormones to get the best of me. I really needed to suck it up, but I’d been asked out by three boys since school started, and none of them gave me butterflies. Not the way my best friend was starting to. Sure, they were cute enough. The problem was I always found myself comparing them to him. Maybe I needed to just say yes to one of them. Maybe Jeremy and I were spending too much time together and I’d never be over him until I tried dating someone else.

But the thought of not spending all of my time with Jeremy?

Awful.

Terrible.

Unacceptable.

Who needs kisses at fourteen anyway?

My stomach flip-flopped as I walked down the hall to where he was standing outside, waiting for me, like he always did. But, this time, he wasn’t watching for me. Instead, he was staring down at his tennis shoes. His shaggy, brown hair was a little unruly, strands of it falling over his tan forehead. That was par for the course, as he was always using his hands to run his fingers through it.

The muscles in his biceps bulged as he turned and pressed his palms against the lockers. He seemed anxious, and it appeared as if he was breathing heavy. Something was definitely wrong. With a sense of trepidation, I inched closer.

Whispers of how hot Jeremy Banks was filled my ears, and without even looking over, I knew girls were staring at him. He’d become popular with the ladies at Navarre High when he’d been the only freshman to make the varsity football team. But, just like me, he’d turned down any advance. Even when senior Jacqueline Dawes asked him out. We’d had plans that night, and he’d stuck with them even when I’d told him that it was okay if he wanted a rain check.

I tried not to read too much into it. He still treated me like he treated everyone else.

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t quite true, but he wasn’t hitting me up for kisses or anything. Not that I wanted them.

Not really.

“Jeremy?” I spoke softly as I approached, tentatively reaching my arm out to touch his. A spark shot out as he stood up straight, his eyes wide.

“Fuck, sorry,” he said, running a hand through his hair. He grinned as he rubbed his feet on the carpet. “Static electricity is a bitch. But, then again, I think there’s always been a bit of electricity around us, don’t you think, Sierra?”

My heart pounded, and my eyes had to have been as big as saucers with how caught off guard I was at his words. Did he really mean them?

He turned towards me and leaned his shoulder on the locker, giving me a cocky once-over. It was a new signature move he’d stolen from one of the seniors who, not so successfully, was trying to date his way through the freshman cheerleaders. But, unlike that jackhole, Jeremy didn’t look like a smug jerk. He looked sexy. Confident. A tad bit goofy, too. Which was part of what was so damn endearing about him. It was all I could do not to rise on my tiptoes and see what he’d do if he knew just how much that move was affecting me.

Not that I’d ever do it. But hey, a girl can dream, right?

“Umm, yeah,” I mumbled lamely.

He continued to grin. “How you doin’?” he asked in his best Joey Tribbiani impression. Have I mentioned what TV junkies we were?

“Better than you, apparently. What’s with you? I was walking down the hall and you looked like you were either trying not to puke or trying to work your way into finally asking out Heather Perkinson.”

My heart faltered at the thought. Heather Perkinson was the prettiest, perkiest girl in the sophomore class. She made it no secret that she had the hots for Jeremy, and I’d seen them talking in the hallway from time to time. She always smiled and twirled her hair around her dainty little finger, making sure to laugh at every single one of Jeremy’s jokes. Of course, she always reached out to touch his arm, and the protective side of me wanted to yank her hand off him each time. But Jeremy was a big boy who could take care of himself. If he liked Heather…well, then I guessed we’d see what happened.