Once he caught his breath he stood up and pulled the condom off, tossing it with a flick of the wrist. It landed in the cold dirt about an inch away from my face and I felt a wash of relief that he’d put one on in the first place. I had been too caught up in all the other unknowns to notice.

He was standing over me, pulling his pants on, staring at me with an exhausted smile. “You’re seriously so hot,” he said. “It’s wasted in those stupid Covenant clothes.”

The more he said it the less meaning it held. It was just a temperature, really. It meant almost nothing anymore.

He kissed me again, only for a second, like a thank-you, and then walked back into the party, leaving me lying there half naked, dirt covering my back. But I was grateful to be alone. To make sure I was okay. I reached for my face, felt my cheeks, hollower than usual but still there, my eyes, my nose, my ears. I felt my shoulders and elbows, my breasts and belly button and hip bones. Nothing had changed. The forest was exactly as it was before, silent and still. The barn was exactly as it was before. I was exactly as I was before. I looked down at my underwear, looped around one ankle like a Hula-Hoop. The same.

It wasn’t the romantic moment I had pictured—slow and gentle with kisses and whispers asking if I was okay. It all happened so fast. And then he was gone. It seemed more function than form. We were no longer virgins. We helped each other cross that mighty uphill bridge. And now that we were on the other side, we could just have sex without worrying about whether anyone will know how inexperienced we were; whether there will be proof. I became just a girl. A non-virgin girl.

I stood up slowly and pulled on my underwear, then my jeans. Then I waited, again, to give God one more chance to strike me down. But nothing happened.

Once my head cleared, the fog of fear washing away with every moment of inaction, I remembered an article I’d read: Why You Must Pee after Sex, from a Gyno!

Pee after sex, I reminded myself.

I made my way around the side of the barn, to the open sliding doors, and was stopped in my tracks the second I spotted Timothy, next to the Gatorade cooler, pouring himself another drink and talking to Andrew and Nicholas. They were laughing and I could feel myself blush, my face was hot, stinging almost. Were they laughing at me?