Our separation was horrible, and it seemed that nature conspired with Grandmother to increase our suffering. Our bodies changed, and we could not revel in those changes with each other. I’m sure Tavis noticed my developing chest, just as I took in his peach fuzz across the breakfast table. I wanted to tell him about the monthly change, and about the heavy feeling between my legs when I tried to fall asleep.

A handful of years later, Grandmother paid the tuition for Tavis to attend a college hundreds of miles from home. I was not to receive further education. Grandmother had courted a family for their eldest son, who was tightly tied to the Church. She planned my marriage as though we lived a hundred years in the past.

As terrible as it may sound, we were relieved when the old crone died the summer before Tavis was to go away to school. Mother and Father used the money Grandmother left to send us both to the university. There I developed my love of art and the workings of the mind. Tavis studied engineering, a subject that his technical mind devoured.

Once again we were divided, not by the rules of Grandmother but by the rules of the university—co-ed dorms were unheard of at that time—and our temperaments. Like my father, I was quiet and took everything in. Tavis flourished in the public setting.

My roommate was a loud southern girl who lived in bright colors and heavy makeup. Many nights she snuck her new boyfriend through the dark halls and brought him to our room. I would feign sleep and silently watched her allow him to fondle and caress her. He would run one hand over her blouse while he tried to inch the other up her stocking-clad leg. She would giggle and smack his hand. It was the night when she didn’t giggle that shocked me.

I saw his fingers coax their way up her thigh, and bunch up her skirt and slip to reveal the tops of her stockings and the suspenders of her girdle. For the briefest of moments, his hand cupped the crotch of her white panties.

I touched the heaviness between my legs and felt something spark. There was wetness, and everything felt fuller than it did when I washed in the shower. The bump at the top of my female separation seemed to dance under my fingers. Quietly, I rubbed myself, the wetness growing and unnerving energy building up. Something was coming together between my legs, and it felt as though it would break through my skin. And that’s exactly what it did. The energy flew from my body into the room and took off for the sky.

“Minna, are you awake?” asked my roommate.

I lay quiet in the dark and pretended sleep.

Tavis told me, “He thinks I’m asleep. He pulls and tugs like I do and groans at the end.”