“Careful,” Seth warned me.

“I see the way you look at Trey,

the way he looks at you.

Remember, we both promised God

we’d wait.”

“We’re not doing anything,” I told her.

We’re not doing anything,

I told myself.

Still, I couldn’t help but notice

how the purity band

on my ring finger

seemed loose lately.

Like any day now,

it might

just

slip

off.

Alone at his house,

his parents I don’t know where,

we sit on the sofa,

the TV watching the heat

rising between us.

I tingle all over

as Trey closes the distance.

It’s okay,

I tell myself.

I won’t let it go

too far.

But before I know it,

his hand is rubbing my inner thigh,

racing toward my waist,

reaching underneath my-

What am I doing?

“Stop!” I tell him

using what little breath

I have left,

too trapped

in my own frustration

to worry

about his.

I switch on the TV,

see this boy and girl

plastered against the wall

of some fictional school,

kissing their brains out,

then sneaking inside the boys’ room.

Together.

I shudder, slightly disgusted,

and turn away.

Still, I start to wonder

if all the other

kids are right.

Am I Miss Priss?

Am I making too big a deal

about waiting?

“You’re so beautiful,” says Trey,

his hands busy

with my buttons.

I finger the cross

round my neck.

A voice inside me chides

Remember: