Free Forever by Judy Blume

Then I caught my mother on her way into the shower and
     asked, “Does Daddy want me to stop seeing Michael?”
    â€œOf course not.”
    â€œBecause I won’t . . . not even if he asks me
     to . . .”
    â€œHe’s not going to ask you . . . he’d
     just like to see you get around more with other people . . . the way you
     used to . . .”
    â€œBut I don’t want to . . .
     I don’t want to be with any other boy.”
    â€œI understand, Kath . . . and deep down inside, so
     does Dad . . . he’s just having trouble accepting it . . .”
    â€œI can tell.”
    â€œSay, aren’t you going to be late for school?”
    â€œSo I’ll miss first period study hall . . . big
     deal!”
    â€œIf you want I’ll drive you over as soon as I’m
     dressed.”
    â€œOkay.”
    I got my books together and found my clean gymsuit in the laundry room.
     Then I went out to the garage and started the car. I’ve had my license since
     September but I hardly ever get any driving practice.
    Mom came out of the house pulling on her hat and gloves. She wears the
     same kind of white knitted hat that I do only she doesn’t pull it over her
     forehead the right way. She shoves it back on her head because she says it make her face
     itch.
    â€œBrr . . . it’s cold out!” Mom opened the
     car door.
    â€œWant me to drive?” I asked.
    â€œNo . . . the side streets are still icy.”
    I slid over and my mother got in behind the wheel.
    On the way to school I said, “Mom . . . were you a virgin when you got married?”
    My mother kept looking straight ahead but she tightened her grip on the
     wheel.
    I quickly added, “I mean, I know you said you were, but . .
     .”
    We stopped at a red light. Mom turned to me. “I
     was a virgin until we were engaged . . . not married.”
    â€œHow about Dad . . .”
    â€œThere were double standards then . . . boys were
     supposed to get plenty of experience before marriage.”
    The car behind us tooted. “The light’s green,” I
     said.
    â€œOh . . .” We drove up East Broad Street and under the
     railroad tracks.
    â€œAre you glad you waited?” I asked.
    â€œI don’t think of it in terms of waiting . . .
     I was just twenty.”
    â€œIf you had it to do all over again, would you still wait until you
     were engaged?”
    â€œEverything’s different now. I wouldn’t have married so
     young in the first place.”
    â€œBut would you have waited?”
    â€œI can’t answer that . . . I just don’t
     know.”
    I didn’t say anything more but when we got to school instead of just
     dropping me off my mother pulled into the lot and turned off the ignition. “Look,
     Kath . . .” she said, “I’ve always been honest with you about sex . .
     .”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œBut you have to be sure you can handle the situation before you
     jump into it . . . sex is a commitment . . . once
     you’re there you can’t go back to holding hands.”
    â€œI know it.”
    â€œAnd when you give yourself both mentally and
     physically . . . well, you’re completely vulnerable.”
    â€œI’ve heard that before.”
    â€œIt’s true,” my mother said. “It’s up to you
     to decide what’s right and what’s wrong . . . I’m not
     going to tell you to go ahead but I’m not going to forbid it either. It’s
     too late for any of that. I expect you to handle it with a sense of responsibility
     though . . . either way.”
    â€œI wasn’t asking for personal reasons,
     Mom . . . I was just curious,