Tiff was worried. I'd seen her worried before when her pants got a little tight or she couldn't get her hair to do what she wanted, or, heaven forbid, her period was late. But this was different.

The Valentine's Day dance was less than a week away and she hadn't been asked. Oh, she'd been asked by most of the jocks in the senior class, all of whom anticipated spending a dance or two before suggesting that "We get out of here." That was the code phrase for "Let's go somewhere and fuck." But she hadn't been asked by the one person she wanted to go with.

A couple of months ago, she would have taken her time and sorted through them, picking the one she thought would be the best lay. Now she told all of them she wasn't available and actually chewed out some of the more persistent ones.

It didn't take long after the Christmas break for the news to make the rounds. It was pretty hard to miss. Tiff followed Doug all over the school, carrying his books from class to class as he negotiated the halls on his crutches. The last couple of weeks he'd been using a cane, and had pretty much taken over the book carrying himself, but she still followed him around like a lovesick puppy.

I tried to tell her that she should tell him what was bothering her, but she was acting like a little kid, afraid to offend him and scare him off. And worrying herself sick about it, too.

I could see both viewpoints. She wanted her guy to ask her out. They'd been "seeing each other" since Christmas, when my boyfriend Dougie, who happened to be her boyfriend Doug's stepbrother had told her how much Doug cared for her. I think "worshiped" is the word he actually used.

Talk about your backwards relationships. Up till last Halloween, Doug had been "that sorta heavy guy" on the football team. Tiff was grounded and all the desirables were at their parties, so she settled for Doug. Their sexual antics that night were anything but loving.

Tiff didn't know it at the time, but Doug had fallen for her the first time he saw her, last year when his father married Dougie's mom and they moved into the school district. She was always the one who was too good for him, the one he knew would never talk to him. When she invited him over as a last resort and started treating him like dirt, he just followed her lead. I found out later that Dougie heard him crying that night when he thought everyone was asleep. Strange to act that way when you just got through fucking the girl of your dreams. But what they did isn't what he'd been dreaming of.

When Tiff and her cheerleader friends pulled their pantsless cheerleading prank and Doug did some major damage to his knee, Tiffany actually went to the hospital to visit him. At the time it was pretty much just a way to get out of her most recent grounding for an hour or so. Doug was ecstatic and couldn't stop talking to his brother about it until Dougie finally bypassed his brother and got the two of them together. Doug was doing his best to be respectful and had pretty much left her alone, as far as I knew. I know Tiff had come in a couple of times after seeing him, frustrated because he broke it off when things started getting hot and heavy.

Being the school slut, nicknamed Hoover and known as one of the Three Mouthkateers didn't provide Tiffany the background to appreciate the respect Doug was according her. Tiff thought he didn't care. And her impression that he didn't want to be seen with her at the dance made it perfectly clear that he was like all the rest of the men in her life to her.

I'd just spent close to an hour trying to settle her down before she did something stupid. I wasn't sure exactly what that would be, but she had never failed to make things worse when they were going well for her before.

I, on the other hand, was doing very well in the romance department, thank you very much. One of Dougie's Christmas presents from me was a box of condoms. It was my invitation to take our lovemaking beyond the oral stage. When I gave them to him while we were alone in my room, he just put them in his pocket, thanked me and gave me a scorching kiss. I didn't expect to be thrown on the bed but I expected a little more than that.

The next day we went for a walk and he brought up the subject.

"Thanks for the present, E, but I don't think I want to use them."

He still had my hand, and he looked OK, but my heart jumped into my throat. I was all set for the "Maybe we should see other people" speech.

Instead, he said, "When we finally do it, I don't want a layer of latex between us."

Well, I did the first thing that came into mind and pulled him into my chest and tried to inventory his fillings with my tongue. It quickly turned into a battle because he was trying to do the same thing with me.

We made some calls and found out that we could just walk into the Planned Parenthood downtown and they'd give me an exam and issue me the appropriate birth control that day.

That was an experience to tell my grandkids about. Dougie was the only guy there, and the woman at reception and the two in the waiting room all looked at him as if they were afraid he was going to attack them. We found a couple of chairs away from everybody else.

I went up to the receptionist and she asked me, "Are you here for an abortion?"

When I told her I called about getting some birth control, she looked disappointed and handed me a clipboard with a patient information form on it. I noticed there was no space for my name or address, just questions about my health, past diseases, STDs I'd had and whether they were still active or not, when I'd had my last HIV test.

I filled it out and gave it back to her, then waited about five minutes till I was called in to see the doctor.

The doctor was another woman, and was the friendliest of the bunch. She had me change into a paper gown, then gave me an exam, acting surprised when she discovered that I still had my hymen. She told me to sit up, then sat on a stool and rolled it over next to me.

We talked about all the options available to me. Since I was still virgo intacta, she narrowed down my choices to condoms, birth control pills and the birth control patch. She laughed and said, "The morning after pill and abortions are pretty popular around here, but I think prevention is a much saner solution."

I told her that we didn't want to use condoms and that I'd really like to discuss it with my boyfriend before I made a final choice.

"Well, why don't you go home and talk to him, then you can call and leave me a message and we'll have whatever you decide waiting for you when you come back."

"Can't I just talk to him now?"

"Oh, do you want to call him?"

"No. He's in the waiting room."

"You mean he came with you?"

"Of course. He's as involved in this as I am."

"Well, we better get him in here before that barracuda out front eats him alive."

I changed back to my regular clothes and we walked out to the front and got Dougie's attention. When he got up and started to make his way over to me, the receptionist looked all set to tackle him until she saw the doctor standing with me.

We went back to the exam room and she gave us a basic rundown on both the pill and the patch. The pill came in two dispensers. You either took 21 pills, then took a week off, or took 28, the last seven of which were duds. I was pretty good with a calendar, so either would work for me. I just didn't want to have to take a pill every day. And I didn't want a package of pills around, waiting to be discovered by Mom or Tiffany. Or my father. God!