V is for Virgin (5 page)

“Hey, I went to Huntington High.” Kyle. Again with the interrupting.

“We know that,” I said. “That’s kind of why we’re here. We’re hoping you’re sentimental.”

Kyle frowned, and Cara gave him a dazzling smile in response. “We want you guys to come play at the annual Huntington High Fall Festival.”

All five guys exchanged glances and then burst into another round of wild laughter. The band’s bassist even fell off the couch and rolled around on the floor for dramatic effect.

“You see?” I said to Cara. “I told you they’d never do it. I’m sorry, C. Let’s get out of here.”

Cara wasn’t ready to give up yet. “But it’s for a good cause! And since it’s your hometown, I’m sure you’d draw a huge crowd. You have tons of fans at Huntington High. You could help us raise a lot of money.”

“Sorry, Friend of Legs.” Kyle laughed. “We’re past doing things like your little high school gig.” He paused a moment and then snorted. “Charity. That’s cute. But unless you’ve got something better to offer….” He leered rather pointedly at me. “We have a real show to do.”

“Oh, please,” I mumbled under my breath.

I thought I’d said that too low for everyone to hear, but Kyle asked, “You got something to say, Legs?” His voice sounded amused.

His playful banter had been kind of endearing until he insulted my friend. I’d had a long day and was tired of being bullied, so, just like in the cafeteria that afternoon, I said exactly what was on my mind.

“Your ego is like ten steps too far ahead of you. You had one song that played on the radio for five minutes three years ago. You’re just a bunch of high school dropouts who never managed to get a second record deal. When your fifteen minutes are up—which, judging by the size of the crowd out there, is probably pretty soon—your cheesy pick up lines are going to stop working. You’ll be completely washed up by the time you’re thirty, so don’t belittle my best friend because she’s trying to make a difference in the world.”

After that, it was time for my second dramatic exit of the day, so me and my legs strode out of there triumphantly, dragging Cara with us.

Cara was so upset about being laughed out of the club by her favorite band that she was still whining about it the next day. She’d even followed me to work because she didn’t get it all out of her system during school hours.

I work in a jewelry store in the mall. Since we aren’t one of the big name brand stores, it’s pretty quiet. This was fortunate for Cara, because she could continue crying over her precious Shane, and I didn’t have a reason to ignore her.

“I took my poster down,” she said glumly when she’d shown up.

I couldn’t share her depression though because she’d brought me a smoothie from the food court. “You’ll put it back by the end of the week. You know you will.”

“Nope. I burned it. I mean what kind of a name for a band is Tralse, anyway? True and false at the same time? I can’t believe I used to think that was clever.” Cara took a long sip from a smoothie of her own. “I thought we were so in. Shane was being so sweet, and then there was you and Kyle! Can we say chemistry much?”

“Chemistry?”

“Don’t even try to deny it, Val. You guys were practically having foreplay with words.”

“You’re sick. We were not.”

“Were too. You were a handful of insults away from combustion.”

I laughed. “I don’t think so.”

“Until he ruined it, you were,” Cara insisted. Then she got mad again. “He could have just said no. Why’d he have to be such a snob about it? Ugh, now I’ll never get another chance with Shane.”

“That’s for the best anyway, Cara. It’s very unhealthy to date rock stars.”

“You’re so right, V. I’m going to give up my groupie ways and find myself a nice regular guy to crush on.”

I just smiled at my best friend and continued to drink my smoothie. Part of me wished Cara was serious, but a bigger part of me knew she would never grow out of being a groupie. It’s who she is, and, believe it or not, it’s one of the things I like best about her.

“I’m serious,” Cara said. “You know what we need to do? We need to make a list of ideal boyfriend candidates, and then come up with a plan to snag them next week.”

“I’m glad you’re turning over this new leaf, C, but have you forgotten that I ruined any chances of getting anyone to go out with me ever again? Social pariah, remember?”

“My goodness, Valerie,” my boss Margret interrupted us. “That’s quite the thing to say about yourself.”

Margret is in her sixties. She has your standard old lady haircut of a giant cotton ball covering her head like a helmet, and still talks like she’s living in a 1960s sitcom, but she’s pretty cool. Her husband died a few years ago, and since I’ve been working for her for so long now, she’s sort of adopted me as her only family. It’s kind of like having an extra grandma.

“It’s true,” I told her. “I have 64,328 hits on YouTube to prove it.”

“What’s a YouTube, sweetie?”

“Never mind.” I sighed. Trying to explain technology to Margret was as useless as trying to find a pronounced virgin a boyfriend.

“What about Eric Kwan?” Cara asked, pulling me from my internal pity party.

“What about him?”

“Well,
he
doesn’t think you’re a social pariah. Plus, he’s kind of cute, and he’s the senior class president, so he’s pretty popular.”

I laughed. “I can’t date Eric. We were running mates. How weird would it have been if John McCain and Sarah Palin had had gotten freaky together? Plus, in a way Eric’s kind of like my boss.”

“So? That’s completely scandalicious. If you and Eric hook up it will give the school something new to talk about. Better that than Virgin Val. Plus, it would make Zach insanely jealous.”

“Eric and I are just friends, okay?”

“Whatever.” Cara pouted. She hated it when I rejected any of her suggestions. “But I have to be honest with you, V, I don’t know that there’s anybody else in school willing to date you now. You screwed the pooch royally this time.”

“Well, that’s just fine!” I snapped, suddenly very, very cranky. “I don’t want to date someone who’s only in the relationship to get some anyway.”

“That’s it, girl, get angry. Angry is good. We can use angry.”

“I
am
angry! There’s more to a relationship than just sex. Why does it have to be the make or break factor?”

“Um. High school boys?” Cara laughed. “Need I say more?”

“Fine. Then we’re better off single.”

“That’s right! We’re totally better—wait
we
? Oh, no, no, no, V. I love you dearly, but
I
am not better off single. If Shane isn’t my soul mate, then I’m just going to have to get busy finding out who is. You know, maybe we can get Science Of Sydney to play the Fall Festival. They’re this sweet local band. I’ll bet they’re not above doing charity gigs, and their lead singer is beyond hot.”

“C.” I sighed, finally able to crack a smile again. “I thought we were giving up our groupie ways?”

“Yeah,” Cara said with a grimace. I laughed when she started shaking her head. “I don’t know how well that’s going to work. You know me.”

“That, I do,” I agreed.

We laughed together until some customers walked into the store. My good mood was gone in an instant. “You know what sucks about being single and working in a jewelry store?” I asked.

“What?” Cara asked, but then followed my gaze to the happy couple giving each other gaga eyes while they browsed the engagement rings. “Oh,” she said. “Yup, that
does
suck.” She smacked my shoulder before leaving me to earn my minimum wage. “Cheer up, V. At least you’re not getting any.”

“Thanks, Cara,” I said sarcastically, but I was smiling again despite myself. Gotta love Cara.

The rest of my day went surprisingly okay, and I even dared to hope that the rest of the school week would be just fine too. I’d already given everyone at Huntington High what they’d wanted, and they’d all had the chance to mock me about it.

As fickle as high school students are, I figured that I’d be old news by the next day, but I guess it was a pretty slow time for drama at my school because I stayed the hot topic all week. I should have known that Olivia would rally the student populace. It’s not every day that someone stands up to her, and she was doing everything in her power to make sure people saw what would happen if they did.

Everywhere I turned, someone laughed at me or made obscene gestures. They pointed at my necklace and asking, “What’s the V stand for? Virgin?” Then laughed as if they were the only person in the world clever enough to come up with that line.

“It’s just so stupid!” I vented to Cara during computer lab on Friday after my week of torture. “It’s not like I’m the only virgin in this school. I’d bet half the people laughing at me are virgins too.”

“Ha!” Cara laughed. “Twenty bucks says Zach’s still a virgin. I mean why else would he get so mad at you? I should totally start that rumor.”

“You should,” I agreed. “But why does it even matter? So I don’t have sex. So what? Why should everyone hate me for it?”

“People don’t hate you, Val,” said the girl sitting at the computer next to mine.

Cara and I were both startled by the interruption, and turned to see Robin Daniels shaking her head matter-of-factly. Of course it was Robin Daniels. She was widely known throughout the school for being a Mormon. They don’t just not have sex, they don’t drink, or smoke or swear either. I don’t even think they can wear tank tops.

“People may be laughing,” she said, “because standing up on the lunch table like that was kind of amusing, but they don’t hate you. A lot of people are really proud of you. I am. I think it’s great that you’re waiting until marriage, and that you’re not scared to admit it.”

“Oh great. Everyone in the school thinks I’m a joke except the Mormons.”

I winced because I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but Robin didn’t seem to take offense. “It’s not just the Mormons,” she said with a hint of a laugh.

“Right,” I argued. “That’s why Brad Casey told me someone wrote, ‘For a good time
DON’T
call Val Jensen,’ on the wall in the guys bathroom.” I elbowed Cara when she snickered and continued whining. “I’m probably close to 75,000 hits on YouTube by now. I don’t see how people posting me on their Facebook pages and emailing me to their cousins in New York or whatever means they’re proud of me.”

“Haven’t you been reading any of the comments?” Robin asked me.

I found the idea of comments more than a little disturbing. “What comments?”

“On the video,” Robin said. She glanced around the computer room, but the teacher was at his desk with his head buried in the newest Dan Brown novel. “I’ll show you.”

Robin pulled up the video—which was at 75,002 hits now, thank you very much—and scrolled down to the comments section. I couldn’t believe there were over three hundred replies.

Sure, there were your fair share of the “what a freak” comments, and lots of guys offering to take my virginity off my hands, but there were others too. Lots of “You go girl!” and “Good for you!”

“Ooh, I like this one!” Cara said pointing to a comment posted by a luvs2ski. It said, “She’s right. Olivia’s a total skank.” The next three comments beneath it agreed with it.

“It’s amazing what people will admit when it’s anonymous,” Cara said, and then proceeded to add a comment of her own. Not to be deprived of any kind of credit, she signed her name to it.

Robin’s eyes got big as she read Cara’s comment, but I was too busy reading the list of comments right above hers to take notice of what she’d written.

Stargazing
: I wish I had been that brave. I was too scared to tell my bf that I wasn’t ready for sex. Now I’m forever the girl who lost it in the back of a Honda Accord.

Chocoholic
: I feel her pain. I was dumped last year for the same reason.

TheNewJamesDean
: That chick is not hot enough to stay with if she’s not putting out. I’d have dumped her psycho virgin ass too.