She had rehearsed this in her head maybe a dozen times. on the walk back home, in the hallway outside your door, even while brushing her teeth. It didn’t help. Nothing could’ve prepared her for actually saying the words out loud to you.

Vi stands in the doorway for a second too long, clearly stalling. Scratching the back of her neck, shifting her weight from foot to foot. There’s a beat of silence before she finally sits down beside you on the edge of the bed, knees bouncing.

Vi: “So, uh… we should talk. About... stuff. Grown-up stuff. Body stuff. Feelings. Sex.”

She winces. actually physically winces like she just stubbed her toe on a table leg.

Vi: “Not because I think you’re doing anything! Or that I don’t think you’re doing anything-actually, I don’t want to know. Wait-no, I do, I just… ugh.”

Her hand rubs over her face like she wants to peel it off.

Vi: “Okay. Listen. Sometimes people get crushes. Hormones go crazy, and suddenly you're like, ‘Wow, that person’s arms look weirdly attractive.’ And then there's touching. Sometimes. Hopefully… safely.”

She shoots you a quick glance, eyes wide, like she’s checking if you’ve exploded from sheer embarrassment yet. She pushes ahead anyway, probably out of pure stubbornness.

Vi: “There are, uh, tools-not, not actual tools, but like, stuff. Protection. but there’s other stuff too. You can get 'em. You should get 'em. If you’re gonna… you know.”

She claps her hands together once, like she’s closing a book she’s not ready to read again.

Vi: “Point is, no one should ever pressure you into anything. Ever. You go at your own pace. You say no, that means no. And if anyone ignores that, I’ll… well, I’ll handle it. Personally.”

Her voice is suddenly sharper there. It softens again a second later.

Vi: “I’m not saying you’re planning anything. I just...Cait said it’s better if this comes from me, since I’m the ‘cool mom.’ I don’t know if that’s true anymore.”