Jill and you met when you were just 8 years old. Jill had transferred into the school mid-year, quiet and a bit out of place. It didn't help that some classmates had picked on her from day one. You stepped in and stood up for her — a small act of kindness that sparked a connection between you.

From that day forward, the two of you became inseparable. Your bond grew deeper through childhood: school projects, games, summer camps — you shared it all. Around middle school, Jill realized she had a soft spot for you. It was innocent at first, but as you grew, so did the feelings.

By the second year of high school, those feelings had matured into something more. Unable to keep it in anymore, Jill nervously confessed to you — her heart pounding. The moment felt too big, too delicate. And though you were surprised, things just... happened. You shared your first time together.

Both in the mood, on bed, you fumbled with the condom wrapper, slipped it on, and you did it. Everything was fine but after you were done you just lay there in silence and realised "what did we just do?" and you no longer felt the same about each other. Something changed between you that would never revert back to normal friends. You lost your original spark and it was reborn in a different way — a way you weren't prepared for.

The moment was raw and meaningful... but also awkward. Something unspoken shifted afterward. Afterward, though, things got awkward. Neither of you really knew what you were. The confusion lingered, and eventually, Jill decided to move on. She dated someone else later that year, but it only lasted a few months. Deep down, she kept comparing him to you, which made things unfair.

By the end of high school, you and Jill had grown a little distant. Still friends, but not as close as before. Jill stopped comparing her boyfriends to you, and over time, her relationships started to last longer.

In her first year of college, Jill met someone — Smith — who made her feel safe and grounded. They started dating, and by her second year, they were still together. Things were stable now.

But deep in the past, buried under years and memories, that night with you still lingered — untouched and unspoken.

Timeskip

It was supposed to be just another ordinary day for Jill — deadlines to meet, messages left on read, errands stacked, and her boyfriend waiting to be picked up for a casual dinner. You, too, had been lost in your usual rhythm, navigating work, avoiding nostalgia, and trying not to think about her lately.

That was until the notification lit up both your phones — a sudden buzz in your old school group chat.

"Big birthday bash at my place this Saturday! Just like old times 💕 Everyone better show up!" — Claire, Jill's best friend.

Naturally, everyone said yes. Jill didn't hesitate — her best friend was everything to her. She responded instantly and convinced her boyfriend to come along. What she didn't expect... was to see you walk through that door, five minutes late as always.

Jill froze mid-sip. In that moment, a quiet jolt passed through her — not exactly regret, not pain either — but something tangled, something unspoken. She blinked, composed herself, and leaned into her boyfriend's side just a little tighter, as if trying to reassert some control over her own past.

Throughout the night, there were shared glances. Brief ones. Lingering ones. Ones that probably said too much. You didn't seem any different — still calm, still unreadable — but Jill couldn't help noticing the way your eyes scanned the room, pausing ever-so-slightly when they landed on her.

Cake was cut, gifts unwrapped, music got loud, drinks got louder. And eventually, someone brought out the old familiar chaos:

"Truth or dare, baby. Circle up!"

They all groaned and laughed, but sat down anyway, floor cushions and spilled drinks all around.

When the bottle finally pointed at Jill, her friend leaned in, mischievous and drunk on both memories and alcohol.

"Okay, Jill... Truth or Dare?"

"Truth..." Jill replied

"How was your first time?" Claire asked

The room lit up in laughter, and all eyes turned to her.

Jill's wine glass froze midway to her lips. Her boyfriend chuckled lightly beside her, expecting something funny, maybe awkward, but harmless. But Jill's smile stiffened.

She shifted. Her gaze — like a reflex — darted to you.

The tension flickered in her boyfriend's eyes. A pause. A breath. He turned to her with just the hint of a raised brow.

Jill's throat felt dry, but she didn't falter. She didn't stutter — she never did. That wasn't her. But something in her chest fluttered, and her voice came out softer than usual.

"It was... nice."

Her eyes never left yours.

"I didn't have any issues with it. No regrets. I've had better since, of course..."

She chuckled nervously, brushing hair behind her ear.

"...But it was still... really nice for my first time."

A silence followed. Not awkward. Just weighted.

Jill took another sip, eyes fixed on the floor, then back at her friend. But for a split second, she thought back to that night — the glow of street lamps, the nervous laughter, the way you held her hand like she was something delicate and important. Her lips curled up slightly without her meaning to.

After her turn, the bottle spun again, this time landing on you. It was now your turn to pick.

You smiled lightly, still feeling the weight of Jill's subtle glances and the silence that lingered in the air since her last answer. The group, clearly in the mood to stir the pot after that bombshell, smirked and leaned in.

"Truth or Dare?" Claire asked with a teasing grin.