Free Amelia O’Donohue Is So Not a Virgin by Helen Fitzgerald Page A

startled, then said hello nervously, before returning her eyes to their previous position and walking on with her wailing baby.
    When we got home, my father did something outrageous. He said, “Damn it, Claire, let’s go for a drive and a walk and let’s put the radio on full blast.”
    On a Sunday!
    We drove to the other end of the island and parked the car on the side of the road. “We’re going on an adventure. To the cave of the winds,” my father said. For two miles, we trekked along the beach. My mother and my father held hands most of the way, except when we stopped to skim stones (I won.Five skips on the bumpy black water) and compete in a long jump competition (My mother won. She used to be a champ at it back when, apparently). There was an uncanny amount of giggling going on. Maybe they’d been doing it while I was away, I thought, before thinking, don’t think about that for god’s sake, stop, oh gross, I’m seeing them, No!
    The cave of the winds was just a small dark cave, not even big enough to stand up in. None of us knew why they called it that and going inside didn’t enlighten us. There was no wind, just a few empty cans of Foster’s.
    I’d never known them to be such cheery rebels. It was weird as all hell. And while it was weird as all hell in a good way, I still counted the minutes before I could leave again.
    That night, my mother caught me emptying tomato ketchup into the bathroom sink.
    “What are you doing?” she asked.
    “Oh, just…I need the bottle for an experiment,” I lied.
    She accepted this lame excuse and left me alone to discover a ball of tinfoil. Inside, was a note: Woods. Sunday before first day of term. 7:00 p.m. We need to kiss.
    • • •
    The week after christmas was quiet and uneventful. I studied, mostly, and got drawn into two endless games of Monopoly.My parents had taken to experimental cooking with the radio on (Current music! Loud! Cooking together!). We’d marked the new recipes out of ten before an evening walk and a movie (When did they get satellite?). The night before Hogmanay, my mother came into my room. “I need to talk to you about the dance tomorrow,” she said.
    “Don’t worry, I’m not going.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “I am.”
    “I think you’re right,” she said.
    • • •
    Mandy and Louisa continued to ignore me on the long journey back to school. I felt flat and exhausted by the time we arrived. The island had sapped my energy and all I wanted to do was sleep.
    But I couldn’t. I had to see Sammy. I’d thought about nothing else. And when 7:00 p.m. came, I dragged myself from my bed and walked down into the woods.
    I followed the dirt track from the back of the dorms all the way to the small derelict shack at the other end. Sammy hadn’t told me to go there, but it was the meeting place, and I assumed that’s where he’d be. I opened the wobbly wooden door expecting to find him, and gasped when I saw the girl with the ponytail kissing Mr. Burns, the PE teacher.
    My gasp was a quiet one, so they didn’t notice as I walked backwards out of the shack, and shut the door carefully behind me. Blimey, a teacher kissing a student. Imagine the trouble he’d be in if anyone found out.
    “Boo!” Sammy jumped out from behind a tree.
    “Shh,” I said grabbing his hand and running back up the track.
    We stopped in a clearing in the middle of the woods.
    “What’s wrong?” he asked.
    I was like, “Nothing, that place spooks me.”
    “I missed you,” he said, kissing me. I’m not sure if I kissed him back. But I liked it. I liked him. He tasted even more delicious than the food he made. He felt even more cozy than my favorite red duvet cover. Nothing like John, who tasted like Irn-Bru and whose tongue felt like sandpaper. It scared me to death, how nice it felt.
    “I have to go back to the dorms,” I said. “I’ll get in trouble.”
    “Can I see you tomorrow?”
    “Maybe…” I raced off as fast as my body would take me,