I tried every position marked in history and conceivably created at least a dozen more. It was tiring, draining, but even so we went at it all night. Oh—we did—adding she had no plans to do otherwise. For the nth time I sat up and twisted myself uncomfortably on the edge of her bed staring at my own hands; because since I came in through that door I’ve done nothing but this: watch Tiffany pick stuff up from her bedroom’s floor in sheer silence, clad in a skimpy soft pink shirt and matching shorts. Too short shorts, I must add, but I wouldn’t complain.

“Taeyeon it is, am I wrong?” her voice finally filled the room.

“How’d you know? Didn’t you move in some time last month?” she offered her hand and pursed her lips in a tight smile, clearly amused at my reddening face. She knew I remembered the date, and she knew exactly why. I wanted to ask why she did it too and why she'd allow me in her premises being a stranger and all, but the girl spoke again.

“Same way as you: rumors. You’re the talk of the town, you know, and I got intrigued. Took only some minutes to hear about the pretty damsel in distress, Taeyeon the Gay. You’re gay.”

That was not a question. Tiffany folded her arms below her humble chest and gave a lopsided smile.

“Ah...yeah.” Her hands flew up like a child and clapped twice as if she’d won a prize for guessing correctly. She looked adorable doing so, and by then I realized my had been numb for the past 30 minutes, so all I wanted at that moment was a sleazy excuse to get up and throw myself on her; a sleazy excuse I almost believed to be getting.

“Are you?” Stupid question; Tiffany giggled.

The bed creaked with her weight. She bounced once next to me and used her arms as support while inching towards my face, and with the laziest, most apathetic demeanor she spoke. “I don’t know, am I?”

More like she breathed out. The smirk was back.

Damsel in distress she said, huh?

“I—I um…” Her face came too close, eyes unwavering in a staring frenzy she put me into. That smile still wasn’t gone and—damn—that was inviting. But then she stood, stretched herself and pulled me along.

“Alright, fun is over. You look like you're still walked to school and I’m not into being held responsible if you’re gone missing for a day, nope. Out.”

“I’m 19, if that’s what you’re asking.”

She paused for a second with genuine surprise before her lips curled in an 'oh'. Her eyes, however, only fired up in mischief.

“You’re older. In that case…” Tiffany placed her hands on my shoulders, got real nice and personal with my ear and I swear I felt her lips deliberately graze it. “Oh goodie,” she dragged on in a whisper.

And just like that she opened the door, pushed me out and shut it. I could hear her muffled laugh on the other side, and once that stopped she knocked.

“Tomorrow,” she said before I left downright confused about the entirety of our meeting.

Tomorrow?

I’m a damsel in distress? That was—oh, Tiffany is trouble.

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I'll be honest and say I didn't try my best, because I didn't try at all. Go on, bask in my incompetence, children.

Please, I insist, judge this. Judge it hard, and don't take this too seriously because I'm just trying stuff and I need help. Does anyone read this? I could be saying I have a dog on my back while I eat chips on the floor and no one would know. Surprise me? P.S. I learned what Kama Sutra was today. Today, people. I am scarred for life.