I was living in a dorm on campus. I was a twenty-one-year-old junior. And I was still a virgin. Anne and I had been friends for six months; she lived on the floor above me. We had kissed a couple of times, but nothing more.
The door to my room was old, and the doorknob had a small, push-button lock in the center. When the button was pressed to lock the door, it made a distinctive sound, something like click-rit.
Late one evening Anne appeared in my open doorway. She stayed there for several seconds before stepping inside and quietly closing the door. With her hand still on the doorknob, she paused again: a long moment of stillness and silence. And then I heard the sound: click-rit. I was stunned, thrilled, and quite unnerved. Anne had locked the door.
