“I’ll go ahead and ask it, since we all want to know: Are you guys having sex?” “Oh my God.” I cover my eyes. “Oh my God.” “Sabrina,” Mom chides, “that is really inappropriate.” She turns to me. “But yes, are you?” “Oh my God,” I moan. “We aren’t,” Nolan says between bites of meat loaf. Third helping. Oh. My. God. “Maybe you’ll have sex tonight?” Darcy asks. “Is that why you came over?” My twelve-year-old sister, who sleeps with a stuffed fox, just asked the world’s number one chess player if he came over to bang me. And he just replies, matter-of-fact, “It seems unlikely. And no, it’s not why
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