Well, that didn’t go as planned. I got to my feet and wiped dusty bits of hay off my jeans before heading outside to find Chestnut, who was still crunching away on her last bits of apple.

“No offense, girl, but I was hoping to have Owen between my thighs, not you,” I murmured as I hoisted myself up on her back.

Chestnut gave an offended whinny.

“Sorry, girl.”

I gave her an apologetic pat. Then we took off at a loping canter, over the open fields. A horseback ride was always my go-to when I was feeling down.

“Woah, girl!”

I slowed Chestnut down to a walk as we approached the small patch of trees lining the western perimeter of the farm. A sparkling creek ran through here, bubbling and gurgling. I loosened my grip on the reins, letting Chestnut put her head down and drink the cool water as I thought about what had just happened.

Where are things going with Owen?

We’d met after my fourteenth birthday, when his family moved to Sloane, the small farm community I’d called home since I was born. Owen and I had met in the church youth group. All the girls had been abuzz about the new hunk. I’d never expected Owen to settle his blue eyes on me. But he had. And the second he’d given me that slow, sweet smile of his, I’d been a goner.

Owen was the first date I’d ever had. I could still remember him coming by that afternoon, fiddling with his cowboy hat in his shaking hand as he stood nervously on the front porch and answered my dad’s questions. Our first date had been a horseback ride, followed by a picnic in the open fields. It had been perfect.

After that, we became inseparable. Owen had been the first boy to hold my hand. He’d been my first kiss. He’d taken me to prom. That was five years ago. Surely, we were ready to have sex now, even if we weren’t married.

Chestnut finished her drink and looked back over her shoulder to me, as if asking, Where to next?

“Elsie’s,” I tell her, as if she’d actually asked the question. I’ve got to talk to Elsie. Elsie Armstrong was my best friend; she would sort me out. I spurred Chestnut on, across the small creek and into the neighboring field. The Armstrongs had the farm next to ours.

As Chestnut and I trotted up to the large white farmhouse, I could see Elsie sitting in her mama’s favorite rocking chair on the front porch, shucking corn. She looked up with a smile as Chestnut and I trotted up.

“You all survive the storm alright?” she greeted me brightly.

“Yep. We were lucky this time. Just some crop damage but nothing too bad. How about you all?”

“Same here. The Dicksons lost the roof off their house, though,” Elsie replied with a shake of her head.

Shoot. Here I’d been, stressing about having sex with my boyfriend, while other people were dealing with real problems. I bit my lip, trying to push down the guilty and shameful feeling in my chest.

“What’s that look on your face?” Elsie asked, eyeing me knowingly.

“I’m just sorry to hear about the Dicksons,” I replied quickly, leaning down to pat Chestnut’s neck to hide my face.

“Come on, Rora,” Elsie shot back with a laugh. “I know you well enough to know when you’re bullshitting me.”

“Well…it’s Owen,” I admitted after a pause.

“What’s Mr. Perfect done to make you look so down in the dumps?”

“I told him I wanted to…do it.” I dropped my voice to a hushed tone as I looked at the house behind Elsie. The last thing I needed was Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong hearing this conversation and telling my parents.

“And?” Ellie eyed me expectantly, a half-shucked piece of golden corn in her hand.

“He turned me down.”

Saying the words aloud stung. I met Elsie’s gaze, feeling embarrassed.

“Well, your boyfriend might be cute, Rora, but he’s a bigger dummy than I realized!” Elsie exclaimed, her eyes crackling with anger.

“He wants to wait until we’re married.”

Elsie rolled her eyes.

“Maybe you’re both building it up too much! I mean, it’s just sex. It doesn’t have to be that big of a deal.”

I glanced at Elsie in surprise. Just like me, she went to church and was a part of the local youth group. As kids, we’d always assumed we’d wait until marriage to have sex. But now… I stared at Elsie, who was looking intently away from me and furiously shucking corn. Then it dawned on me, and I gasped.

“Oh my gosh… You’ve already done it, haven’t you?!”