It took longer than expected for Randy to get home. In less than 24 hours, the new moon would rise over Elsbury, and it would be too late. Ash fidgeted from foot to foot as the Uber crawled up Randy’s driveway, her stomach twisting into a knot as her boyfriend got closer and closer. She plastered on her best smile. Randy looked good in his slacks, blazer, and polo. He stepped out of the car and opened his arms.

Running to him, she buried her face in his chest. His cologne tickled her nose, but a genuine smile replaced the fake one from a moment ago. It was the first hug they’d shared since her father got sick, and Randy’s muscular arms were warm and comforting. He enveloped her, and she melted into the embrace. She took a long, shaky breath and sneezed when his cologne invaded her sinuses.

“I knew you couldn’t hold out much longer, babe. No one can resist this for long.” He splayed the panels of his blazer out and thrust his hips, a lascivious smile on his face.

The instinct to slap him reared up, but she fought it down. After everything that had happened, the first thing he thought to say to her was she couldn’t hold out much longer?

Now’s not the time, she reminded herself. She clamped down on the anger welling inside her and smiled, tugging on his blazer and leading him up the steps.

“Whatever’s gotten into you, I like it.”

The decorative panels on the door dug into her back as he pinned her against it and kissed her, pressing his warm, hard body against hers. He smelled like Battleaxe body spray and hookers. Knowing his father’s proclivities, and how Randy had never heard the word “no” growing up, it wouldn’t be surprising if the Masters men spent their vacation in strip clubs. Atlantic City wasn’t known for its family-friendly attractions, after all.

She nearly gagged, both at the nasal onslaught and the thought of him in a sleazy strip club. Where his hands touched her, Ash’s skin crawled, and she pushed him away.

He groaned. “Not this again. You said you were ready. Look, I even brought condoms like you asked for.” He pulled out a black box with gold lettering from his pocket, the letters XL emblazoned on the front.

It took all her effort to stop from rolling her eyes. Condom sizes were basically bogus, just a way for the manufacturers to bilk men’s fragile egos. Their sex ed teacher demonstrated the elasticity of “normal-sized” condoms by rolling one over her entire forearm. And even if condom sizes weren’t just a scam, there was no way Randy of all people needed a magnum. Someone like Sam on the other hand…

No! No, no, no, nope! No time for bullshit. Focus!

The flitting thought brought a smile to her face, which Randy misinterpreted for excitement and kissed her again. This time Ash got swept up in the moment, and she didn’t stop Randy’s hand from slipping under her blouse and cupping her breast. Guilt reared its ugly head. Here she was with Randy, getting ready to pop her cherry, and she couldn’t stop thinking about Sam.

“Open the door.”

Randy fumbled the keyring out of his pocket, and they stumbled over the threshold and into the entryway. The synthetic fabric of his slacks did little to hide his excitement. She let the kiss linger a little longer, then pushed him away again.

“What now?” His voice was an exasperated growl.

“Not in the hallway. I want it to be…special.”

He smirked. “Don’t worry about that. I’m gonna give you the Masters’ special all night long.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Again, she fought to stop from rolling her eyes. More empty promises. “I want it to be special…and definitely not where one of the maids can walk in.”

“Don’t worry about that. They know better than to interrupt when I’m busy.”

Ignoring the implication that the staff were accustomed to him getting busy in the public spaces of the house, she pushed away from him. “I’m going to powder my nose. Why don’t you…get things ready?”

“If it’s powder you want, use my bathroom. You’ll find everything you need in the top drawer.”

Her footsteps echoed as she scampered up the wood and marble staircase. She squashed the sense that she was walking up the gallows. Randy was always trying to press party drugs on her, especially when they were fooling around. The bathroom’s heavy door clunked into place, and she locked it, pressing her back against it and covering her face, trying to stop the tears. If she started crying, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop. A scream crawled its way up her throat, but she swallowed it.

Everyone was counting on her. She needed to do this. But it wasn’t right. Not here. Not now.

Not him…?

An angel and devil were on her shoulders, prodding her into action. All her misgivings about Randy and losing her virginity on one. All her fears of losing the people closest to her on the other.

God damn that fucking curse!

It was ridiculous to think that she was here, almost in tears in Randy’s bathroom, all because of a fucking painting.

Blessing, my ass.

Her mind lingered on the painting and the blessing or curse—or whatever the fuck it was. True love, that was what it said. The blessing was supposed to be unlocked by consummating her true love. Even when she and Sam found the poem—spell?—she laughed at the thought of Randy being her true love. But she wasn’t laughing now.

A week ago, she was nearly ready to give it up to Randy. Throughout their relationship, he’d been insistent about his interest but still patient with her. He could be sweet when he wanted to be.

Now, though… Now, she felt like a completely different person. She should be excited to have sex with her really hot boyfriend, but it felt wrong.

Could Randy be my true love? A few days ago, she didn’t think so. He was just one boyfriend in a string of boyfriends like she had a Bingo card to fill up, and he was just another hot, popular high school dude she needed to fill in her row.

Honestly, who even finds their true love in high school? And for that matter, what the fuck even was true love?

Her dad thought her mom was his true love. High school sweethearts, married young…and look where that got him. Abandoned. Betrayed by his best friend. If that’s true love, then no thanks.

Despair threatened to sweep her away. If Randy wasn’t her true love, then this was all for nothing. Dad, Alice, Judy…they were all going to die, and it would be her fault.

But if it took true love to lift the curse, and Randy wasn’t hers, then what was she doing this for? Would she be losing her virginity for nothing? The girl who stared back in the mirror didn’t have the answers. She was almost unrecognizable, same hair, same skin, eyes, and lips…but that girl wasn’t her. Ash’s face crumpled, and hot tears welled up. Choking back a sob, she pressed fingers against her eyes to stem the flow of tears.

I can’t do it. She didn’t know what would happen with the curse, with Sam, with Dad, or if Randy was her true love, but she knew that she wasn’t ready for this.

A relieved, shuddering breath wracked her. Now that she’d decided, the grip on her chest loosened. Unshed tears still glistened on her eyelashes, but now they were tears of relief. Standing up, she began damage control on her makeup.

A chime trilled from her pocket. Probably Sam checking in on her. She unlocked it and her eyes flicked over the scree. Her once-blotchy complexion drained of color. Ice water sluiced through her veins as she read Veronica's text.

U weren’t kidding! He was a total MOUTHFUL!

The three dots at the bottom of the screen told her Veronica was still typing, but Ash powered off the phone and slammed it on the vanity top. This time when she looked in the mirror, she recognized the girl staring back at her. Determined. Angry… A girl who’d been hurt before but wouldn’t let anyone push her around.

Sam lied to her. It didn’t matter why. They were best friends. How could he do that to her?

Ash let the sound of smooth jazz guide her from the bathroom and downstairs. A crystal tumbler full of amber liquid rested in Randy’s hand and he wore nothing other than his favorite robe, the red silk looking almost black in the dim light. The smirk on his face was triumphant.