“You were a virgin?”

She nodded and stood. The room only swam a little, which was probably a good thing. She was going to have to—

She glanced down at herself and realized she was naked. Totally and completely naked. In a bar. What had she been thinking?

“My clothes,” she said.

Kipling handed her her underwear still rolled up in her jeans. She pulled them apart and slipped on her panties. While she stepped into her jeans, he collected her T-shirt and bra then started getting dressed himself.

“We have to talk about this,” he told her.

“No, we don’t. I’m fine. I’m an adult. I did it. We did it.” All that waiting, she thought. “I’d wondered, and now I know.”

He slipped on his shirt. “It’s not that simple.”

“Sure it is. Don’t worry. I’m perfectly fine.”

“You’re not. You can’t be.”

She slipped on her boots and made sure she still had her keys, cell phone and credit card. Her credit card.

“I never paid for my drinks.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“You don’t have to pay for them.”

He grabbed her by her upper arms. “We have to talk about what happened.”

She felt the first throbbing promise of a headache. “Tomorrow,” she said. “I’m not feeling well.”

Kipling hesitated, as if he were going to push back, then he nodded once. “Tomorrow. For sure.”

She wasn’t sure if he was promising or threatening, and right now she didn’t care.

He led the way to the front door, then locked it behind them. The walk to her house was accomplished in silence.

When they stood on her porch, she did her best to smile and sound perky. “I’m completely okay. I’m as much responsible for what happened as you are. I have no recriminations. You need to let it go.”

His expression was unreadable. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“I’ll count the hours.”

She let herself in the house and went directly to her room. Seconds later, she was in her pj’s and about a minute after that, she was sound asleep. Her last conscious thought was virgin, smirgin. It was no big deal at all.

* * *

DESTINY WOKE TO the mother of all hangovers. Her head had grown two sizes in the night, her body ached and there was a nagging sense of something having gone very wrong. Not that she could think clearly.

At least Starr was still at her friend’s and had a ride to camp. Destiny’s only responsibility was to survive the next couple of hours. Hydration and aspirin, she thought as she crossed to the bathroom. Then she would feel better.

The previous night was more than a little fuzzy. She remembered feeling out of sorts and how the singing had made it better. There had also been way too many Long Island Iced Teas.

She turned on the shower, then brushed her teeth while the water got hot. She dropped her pj’s to the floor and was about to step into the shower when it all came crashing back.

The kissing. The touching. The sex.

“Oh, my God! I had sex with Kipling.”

She stood there, one leg raised to step over the edge of the tub. Memories returned in vivid color and 3D detail. His body against hers. The way he’d stroked her. How nice it had all been and how at the end, she couldn’t, for the life of her, get what all the fuss was about.

She was both embarrassed and resigned. She’d wondered, and now she knew. She supposed she’d experienced a rite of passage. To be honest, now that she’d done it, her sensible plan made even more sense. Why would anyone want to do that more than one or two times in a life?

She stepped into the steamy water and let the heat of it soak into her muscles. It was for the best, she told herself as she washed her hair. There weren’t any more mysteries. She was just like most other women her age. At least when she did meet the right man, she wouldn’t have to have the awkward “I’m a virgin” conversation. Because she’d sure shocked Kipling.

She smiled as she thought of his wide-eyed stare. She could almost feel sorry for him. She was old enough that there was no way he would have been expecting that particular surprise. Briefly she wondered if it had made the experience different for him, but knew there was nothing she could do about it.

She still couldn’t figure out why people did the things they did for sex, she thought later as she dressed. It simply wasn’t all that special. But then many things in life were surprising or puzzling. This was just one of those.

She got her backpack and texted Starr a quick “good morning,” before heading out to Brew-haha. She wasn’t much of a coffee drinker, but today called for the biggest coffee in the history of the universe, followed by about a gallon of water. That should get her on the road to feeling better. Oh, and she would make sure not to drink for weeks and weeks.

She walked the few blocks to the coffee shop. As she waited at the light, she saw a man in the park. There was nothing unusual about that. What made this sighting memorable were the odd feathers he was holding and the striped paint on his face. Plus, he kind of looked like he was doing some odd version of Tai Chi.

She walked into the store and found everyone there watching the man in the park.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Patience, the owner, shook her head. “Near as we can figure, Ford is trying to perform an ancient Máa-zib fertility ritual.”

“Oh, right. For the pregnancy bet.”