White is for Virgins (27 page)

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Authors: S. Eva Necks

BOOK: White is for Virgins
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“I wasn’t leaving, I was going to scream for you to come back and get your sister,” she explained.

 

 

He made an ‘O’ shape with his light pink lips, and Emery tried to focus on her anger instead of her intrigue.

 

 

“How do you forget your sister, anyway?” she scowled, taking a frozen bag of peas from Lily and setting it against her aching forehead cautiously.
Perfect
,
a bruise right smack-dab in the center of my face
.

 

 

“How can you forget the kid you’re babysitting?” he countered, ignoring her question.

 

 

She deemed it only fair to ignore his.

 

 

Fox went to retrieve his sister from the guest bedroom, while Emery closed her eyes and tried to focus on anything but the throbbing.

 

 

“Fox, you’re driving Emery home,” Lily said sternly as he returned, cradling his sleeping little sister.

 

 

That image definitely belonged on a Christmas card. It was like Fox had an alter-ego: the caring older brother. He couldn’t be connected to his man whore persona in that moment.

 

 

Before Emery could protest, or generate enough energy or concentration to, Fox nodded and said goodnight to Lily.

 

 

Emery nodded, regretting her choice in acknowledgement as she extended the bag of frozen vegetables to Lily.

 

 

“Keep it,” Lily shrugged, “You’re gonna need it.”

 

 

“Thanks,” Emery smiled sheepishly.

 

 

Emery followed him to his car and waited as he buckled Holly in and then stepped aside so she could slide into the front seat. He slammed the door and then walked around to the driver’s side.

 

 

“Way to slam the door,” she muttered as he started the car and headed for her house.

 

 

He said nothing, and normally Emery would’ve pressed the matter… but she was too pained to care.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

 

 

The pain had subsided by the time I made it through the rackety back door of my dark home. All the lights were off, and years of familiarity assured that I got up to my room without bumping into anything on the way.

 

 

My father’s snoring puzzled me as I exited the kitchen and took a left at the stairs. He sounded close by.

 

 

I shook my head, ignoring the noise as I got my pajamas and slipped into the luxury of a long, hot shower.

 

 

After reluctantly stepping out, drying, and dressing, I ran a comb through the disheveled mop on my head.

 

 

I wiped the mirror with my towel so I could see myself clearly, though, there wasn’t much to see. My hair was wet and slicked back over my head from brushing. My eyes were all red, but not heavily bloodshot. My makeup, which I had carelessly forgotten to wipe off, had made its way down my face, leaving a black trail in its path. I was tired. And I looked like crap.

 

 

Not to mention the bruise that was slowly forming along my hair line. I had a short, thin, vertical cut atop a hill of swollen skin. The other colors were slowly coming in; I could make out blue and purple patches. I bit my lip and forced myself to brush my teeth.
I shouldn’t be worrying about my little booboo right now.
It’d grow twice in size by tomorrow morning. There’d probably be some green hues amidst the canvas of my forehead as well.

 

 

School will have a field day with this one. Can’t wait…

 

 

I eased into my small, noisy bed and cautiously closed my eyes. Just as they had in the shower, thoughts of Lily’s date flooded my mind.

 

 

I huffed and snatched my iPod from the end table to my right. I stuck a bud in my ear and furiously picked a song at random.

 

 

I’m sorry iPod,
I thought. It was unfair that I was taking my fury out on my beloved electronic companion…

 

 

Paramore’s
cover of ‘Use Somebody’ came on, and I tried not to analyze the lyrics. Because then I’d realize that they applied to me in every way.

 

 

But see, life was cruel in the sense that when you asked for one thing, it gave you the opposite.
You go to McDonald’s and order a hamburger with extra onions and no pickles; they give you one with extra pickles and no onions.
Then you lash out at the lady behind the counter or through the drive thru window.

 

 

I was trying to think of anything but Fox and Lily’s newfound relationship… yet thoughts of them holding hands on their date and sharing food filled my mind. Instead of being the angry, semi-hungry customer that demanded a new order,
free of charge
… I was going to be the customer that shrugged and went,
You know… maybe it’s time to try something a little different. Let’s not cause trouble.

 

 

One question kept ringing in my head, though.
Did they kiss?

 

 

I thought back to when they came through the door. They weren’t holding hands… Lily wasn’t too dazed or dreamy-eyed. Then again, maybe the shock of having an uninvited guest over ruined her moment. She really seemed to have something against Nick.
Poor guy -
that must scrape the ego a bit.

 

 

As the song switched over to ‘Free’ by Boys Like Girls, my eyelids felt like they were made of lead. They closed, and the hazy clouds dispersed as my mind cleared up sufficiently. 

 

 

I shut off my iPod, and felt the corners of my lips tug upward as I turned over on my stomach and slid my arm beneath my pillow. Before the depths of unconventional sleep swallowed me up, I concluded: Fox didn’t kiss Lily.

 

 

***

 

 

I scowled as the amused glares buried into both my back, and my forehead. I silently cursed the navy skirt I was required to wear for the seven hour duration of the school day – it complimented the bluish-purple bruise that encased the majority of my hairline quite nicely.

 

 

The heat left my cheeks as I entered the safety of Health class and took a seat in the far corner of the room. A guy with a familiar swagger walked up the aisle and took a seat in front of me. I would’ve looked up, if it weren’t for the heinous blemish that was terrorizing my forehead.

 

 

Luckily, he made the first move.

 

 

“Hey you,” he said. I breathed a sigh of relief.

 

 

It was Nick.

 

 

I looked up, and heard him mutter a “Holy
shh-cow...” as he caught sight of my forehead. But I was too busy taking in a deadly glare from Lily as she opted for seat in the middle of the room, rather than the seat next to mine. This wasn’t good.

 

 

Instead of stressing over why she was mad at me, I turned my attention back to Nick. He was staring at me, furrowing his brows in confusion.

 

 

“Yeah,” I smirked, “I’m breaking necks with this baby.”

 

 

“I can imagine,” he chuckled, “What’s the story? Your parents big on the discipline or…?”

 

 

I smacked him on the arm.

 

 

“No, Fox just forgot Holly Saturday night,” I told him, and when he gave me a quizzical look I added, “And I ran after him. So as I reached the front door, he was already coming back in and… well, you pretty much know what happens after that.”

 

 

Nick made that “Ssss” sound – when you inhale through your mouth with clenched teeth – and winced.

 

 

“So the red gash is really just paint from her door?” he smirked, reaching out to touch my bruise.

 

 

I shoved his hand away.

 

 

“Don’t touch my booboo, you creep,” I laughed. This earned another glare from Lily.

 

 

I sat back in my chair and tried to minimize my conversations with Nick. It proved a difficult mission… but somehow I made it to lunch alive.

 

 

I briefly questioned sitting at a different table, but settled against it. Lily hadn’t told me to stay away from Nick. She hadn’t told me what she had against him. So whether she hated the kid for breaking her Crayola’s in the second grade or she was just having some serious PMS issues… I was sitting at our usual table.

 

 

I plopped down across from her and set my spaghetti on the table.

 

 

She looked up, and returned the small smile I had offered her.
Had I just
imagined
she was mad?

 

 

Fox and Nick walked to their old table, talking to some guys from the track team before coming over to join us.

 

 

“Ladies,” Fox greeted, smothering his laugh as his eyes darted from my eyes to my forehead.

 

 

“Laugh it up,” I told him smugly. “People think I get abused at home because of you.”

 

 

His laugh downgraded to a smile.

 

 

“Are you sure it’s not just the paint from Lily’s door?” he asked.

 

 

“Are you sure it’s not just the paint from Lily’s door?” I mimicked him obnoxiously as I stabbed at my spaghetti and twirled the fork feverishly.

 

 

“Right?” Nick laughed, “Dude, that’s what I said!”

 

 

Fox and Nick high-fived while Lily and I rolled our eyes.

 

 

He laughed again, “Well someone’s on that time of the month.”

 

 

I stopped chewing my food for dramatic effect, and stared at him. I couldn’t decide if I looked scary and intimidating with the bruise, or if that look made Fox want to laugh more. I really hoped it wasn’t the latter, but he laughed nonetheless.

 

 

“I’d rather not discuss feminine issues with you while I’m eating lunch,” I muttered after I finished chewing, “or ever, for that matter. But no,
it’s not that time of the month
.”

 

 

Silence followed.

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