I guess it's kinda long, and kinda "mature," but I don't know… hopefully you guys will like it. I'm really not very good at this kind of thing. As you can probably tell, I like more of the flow of the words when I write, so that's what I'm focused on (but I'll admit, this isn't exactly my best chapter). I hope you enjoy it!

We had been gone for about thirty minutes. I wondered what the others were thinking. That we were fighting? That we were breaking up? Making out? Or even… whatever. Who cares what they thought. I was just… enjoying myself.

Crap. That didn't make me a slut, did it? I mean, I was seventeen. I was allowed to make out with my boyfriend. I was allowed to grab his hair, and take his shirt off if I wanted to, and feel the muscles in his neck as he kissed me - long, passionate kisses that made me numb.

And it's not like we were having… sex, right? Obviously we weren't. I shouldn't have been embarrassed to think of it. Honestly, I wouldn't have minded doing it. Wow. That was a stupid thing to think. Why did I think that? I mean… well, I wanted it to be Neil. If he wanted me, of course.

Then again, that raised the question – when was he going to tell me he loved me? I couldn't sleep with a guy until he told me that. And meant it. And I for sure loved him, so there wouldn't be a problem. There's nothing wrong with two seventeen year olds losing their virginity.

Wait. What if Neil wasn't a virgin?

Why was this so complicated? Why couldn't I just be like Isobel, joking around about it all the time? "You style your hair?" she would say to a guy. "Excuse me while I undress myself." "You play soccer?" "You've read Tolstoy?" "You speak three languages?" "You actually care about girls?" "You don't want sex, only a relationship?" "You don't want a relationship, only sex? Just give me a moment while I unbutton my ridiculously low-cut top in front of you, eh?"

I mean, they were only jokes. She'd never done anything. But I just wished I could be as comfortable as she was.

Neil was kissing my whole face, my neck, my arms, my chest. His hands crept up under my shirt and lifted it off of me. I felt exposed, but I didn't care - all I wanted was Neil. I pulled him in closer, and we lay there, forehead to forehead, staring at each other. Maybe I was subconsciously aware that we were both shirtless, but if I was, I didn't react to it. At least, not until Neil started tracing the path down to my stomach with his lips, starting at my chin, tracing my throat, collarbone, lightly kissing the exposed skin in the middle of my bra, down, down, down to my bellybutton. I giggled and rolled him over so that I was on top and I did the same.

It had been forty-five minutes. I hoped that the door was locked. I hoped that Charlie and Isobel weren't doing the same thing we were. I hoped that no one would come looking for us, or worse, find us, here, me in my bra and skirt and hair all frizzy and Neil without a shirt on, tickling my stomach with his teeth. I hoped it would all work out, like Neil said it would.

All of a sudden I became aware that Neil's hands were on my bra. His lips were sucking my neck, which was sure to result in a hickey that I would not very subtly have to cover up tomorrow, but his hands were fumbling with the clasp, hot and sweaty and frustrated. I pulled away and looked at his face. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. It kind of seemed like he was feeling pressured to do this, to go all the way with me or something. I had this irrational fear that it was all a game, a bet made up by his friends. I knew that wasn't true, of course, but I couldn't help but feel like something was up. This wasn't the way it was supposed to feel, supposed to go.

I pulled away. "Hey, wait," I said, unsure of how to stop him. Thankfully he let go without me having to say anything else. He was so nice.

I sat up. We were silent again, and Neil slowly got off of me and sat down to my right. I held my elbows up to cover my exposed skin. I missed the feeling of his hands on my chest and stomach and legs and hair. But… it didn't feel right. I trusted myself to not do something that I knew I'd regret later.

"That was fun," I said, and Neil barked out a single laugh. "Yeah, it was," he agreed.

We lapsed into silence again.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. "I was too… fast, I guess. I guess I just got caught up or something."

"No, it wasn't that," I said. "I mean, it was. I'm not… not ready. It's just not the right time. Yet."

"The right time?"

I couldn't tell him that the right time would come after he announced his undying love for me, that he couldn't live without my beautiful personality and charming laugh and all the great things about me that he would list in order of most sexy to most sweet. Because that was a fairy tale, a daydream that I couldn't voice out loud.

"Like, not at eight in the morning while everyone's wondering where we are."

"Oh," he said, grinning. "That kind of time."

Maybe he knew what I meant. Maybe he was waiting for the perfect time to tell me he loved me, like the perfect proposal or the perfect surprise birthday gift.

"And other kinds of times too," I said, smiling back. "Like, when I'm emotionally ready. When I'm certain that I want to go through with it. It's a big step, you know."

"Oh, I know," he agreed, still smiling. "You seem to know a lot about it. Have you, uh, ever… taken such a step before?"

I had to laugh. Neil was asking me if I was a virgin. "No, I haven't," I answered. "What… what about you?"

"Never," he said, and we both tried to hide our relief.

It was strange how we were talking about this so logically. And, I realized with some sort of weird satisfaction, without ever outright saying what we were talking about. Other couples might talk about sex all the time, but we could do it without saying the word sex, so I think we were a step up.

"We should probably go back down," I said. "I've barely eaten anything and everyone's probably wondering where we are."

"Breakfast's over," Neil said, and I looked at the clock. He was right.

"Crap," I said. "Class starts in five minutes."

"Hmm," he said, grinning. "What should we do for five minutes?"

"Well," I said. "If I didn't have a totally hot boyfriend, I would say that we should probably get there early to get ready for class."

"But…?"

"But since I do have a totally hot boyfriend, I may as well spend some time with him." We both smiled widely, and he leaned in so that our teeth clacked together gently.

I spent the next ten minutes lying in bed with him, staring into his eyes and talking about random and unimportant things. Then I spent the next five minutes getting dressed for class.

It was the first time I had been late to class, but it was worth it.