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protocols were concerned, whereas the sum total of my experience had been gleaned from teen magazines. One afternoon, a small group of us sat in a circle on the stone paving slabs at the pool-side and played "truth or dare." Tom Flynn and I exchanged a kiss. It was the first time a boy had ever put his tongue in my mouth: it scared me, yet it was also the most exciting thing I had ever experienced.

At the beginning of September, I went on a family holiday with my parents and younger sister. I knew that when I returned Tom Flynn would almost certainly have left for boarding school. I hated every minute of that holiday. I begged my dad to take us back early, even though I wasn't entirely sure why I wanted to return. I had had many chances to be Tom Flynn's "girlfriend," but to date had passed them up. So why did I want to go back to a boy I had given everyone - including him - the impression I had no real interest in? My dad eventually gave in to my demands, and we returned home a few days before the holiday's official end.

Tom Flynn was still there when I came home. I was deliriously happy to see him again, but I couldn't express it not to him or myself. The emotions I had felt during my holiday continued to career out of control, and I saw no way of harnessing them. He had written me a letter while I was away, and which my brother handed to me when I returned with the explanation that "some boy" had brought it to the house. I read it in the toilet, my heart thumping.

When Tom Flynn went away to boarding school at the end of September, he continued to write to me. I couldn't bring myself to open his letters and tore them all up. I still couldn't deal with what I had felt, and continued to feel. I remembered the kiss we had exchanged on the paving stones at the pool and how much I had wanted it never to end.

I still swim at the pool; it's heated now and is open all year round. The diving board Tom Flynn once bounced on is no longer there, but, when the sun shines, the water still looks the same wonderful blue. Even when the sun doesn't shine, this is still my favorite place on earth. When I make my way to the changing rooms my watery footprints mark the paving stones where Tom Flynn and I once sat one chilly August afternoon playing "truth or dare."

Learn more about this author, Jed Eane.
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