I told my parents I was going to basketball practice, then sped down the dark rural road in my Gremlin, one of my dad’s condoms in my wallet. Gina’s mom and dad were out of town, and we’d decided this was the night we’d both lose our virginity. I was seventeen; she was eighteen.

Gina’s bedroom walls were covered in Duran Duran posters. We removed the teddy bears from her bed and started kissing, grabbing, and giggling. It was awkward but fun. We didn’t realize the condom had broken until we were done.