It’s misting out, and the smell of pine and moss hangs heavy in the air. “Look how pretty,” I say to Hunter, pointing at the evening sun filtering gold through the trees.

“It’s beautiful,” he says, glancing over. He unlocks the car but then slips around in front of the door to block me. “But not as beautiful as you.” He’s kissing me before I even realize what’s happening. That’s his style. It’s not rough or terrible. It’s just that he doesn’t like to waste time. And it’s possible that I am the biggest time waste of all. He probably deserves credit for patience, because after a year of abstinence, I’m still not sure I’m ready.

He pulls back for a moment and runs a finger along my collarbone, giving me goose bumps, but I pull away and get into the car — I’m getting stressed about the time. He gets in and sets his hand on mine. It’s a nice hand. Warm, long fingers. Fingers that can be alarming tools of persuasion, especially when he lightly skims them over my jeans when we’re kissing. So far, though, I have resisted. I always thought I’d want to do it by now, but for some reason, it still doesn’t seem right. Maybe I’ve watched too many movies, but I always imagined having sex as being something important and amazing, and being so in love with the guy I could barely tell where I left off and he began. I guess I’ve been waiting to feel sure it would be like that with Hunter, but for some reason, I don’t. And I don’t know what the problem is.

When he drops me off at my house minutes later, he kisses me slower. Softer. He trails his fingers lightly over my breast, and for a moment I might be starting to see things his way. But then I see the light flick on in my brother’s bedroom and I come to my senses. Five o’clock: toileting time.

“See you tomorrow,” I tell Hunter, giving him one more kiss before I get out of the car.

Inside, the house smells of cinnamon oatmeal, one of Jonah’s approved low-calorie snacks. I get out of my shoes and jacket and bring my backpack up to my room. I hear my dad in the bedroom next to mine, struggling to get Jonah cleaned up and changed. He keeps telling him to hold still, and at least once I am almost certain I hear a dammit emit from under his breath.

I poke my head in when I hear they’re finished. “Hey, guys.”