White is for Virgins (3 page)

“Depends.” I shrugged, “What kinds of absurd things, exactly?”

“Well…” Nina sighed.

“Nina. Spit it out,” I laughed. “It can’t be that bad…”

I was hoping it wasn’t.

“The daycare down the street is hiring,” she said, and when she saw the confused look on my face she added, “And since you were so good with the little ones at the free paternity test event we held, I thought you’d be interested.”

I remained quiet. Did I want to give up my free time with Nina to babysit crying machines that leaked at every corner?

“The pay is modest, but I thought you might want to buy yourself something nice. You can’t live off of the Birthday Money Fund your entire life, Emery,” she said.

That was true.

“How many days would I work there? And hours?” I asked, curious.

“Wednesday through Friday, five to seven and maybe some Saturdays, nine to five,” she said, as if it was nothing.

I’d be giving up my Saturday sleep-ins! And homework time… but the money was tempting.

“Sure, I’ll do it,” I shrugged.

***

I headed over to the daycare to inquire about the job offer.

While I was filling out forms, and inhaling the scent of milk and cookies, I felt a hand on my lower leg. I flinched, and looked up.

An adorable little girl was looking at me with most amazing green eyes; they were a deep emerald, with little gold flecks sprinkled within. Her honey colored hair was short, and incredibly curly.

“Hi, there…” I said, “My name is Emery.”

She just kept staring at me.

Figures. You can’t exactly have a conversation with a two-year-old.

“Holly! Holly?!” I heard a woman calling, walking around frantically in her three inch heels and a tight red dress.

“Um, excuse me, Miss?” I called, trying to get her attention.

“Oh, thank God!” she chuckled nervously. “Holly! You left Mommy,” she cooed, picking her baby up.

“Thank you so much,” she said, smiling at me.

“It’s no problem. Holly’s adorable,” I told her, standing up to hand the papers to the woman behind the front desk.

“Well, say bye to…” she pauses before I told her my name, “Emery. Say bye to Emery, Holly,” she said, waving Holly’s hand for her.

As the woman walked away, I smiled at her daughter, who was still looking at me curiously. I figured I was going to tolerate this job.

“You start Wednesday,” Cheri from the front desk told me. And with that, I left.

***

Instead of going straight home, I passed my house and stopped by the corner store for some kind of supper.

I passed the liquor store on the way back, and instead of seeing a bunch of buff drunk guys hanging around, I saw some familiar faces. Kids from school, to be exact.

“Hey, hey, pretty lady!” one of them called. I was pretty sure that was Nick from health class, a teacher’s pet.

“Ow! Ow!” another called. I had no clue who his friend was, but he was not attractive in the least.

“
Yo! Grab these,” a guy called to Nick, walking out of the store with two full bags.

And the guy doing all the dirty work was…
Hottie Guitar – Evans…

I still didn’t know his first name. I decided I’d rather not know. It was probably something cocky and pretty-boyish like Chad… or Bradley or Jason.

“Hey, why don’t you join us, cutie?” the other guy asked me, stepping closer. I just kept walking, the sound of my heartbeat was like a drum in my ears. It made me walk faster.

I’d never actually kicked someone in the balls before, but I imagined it wasn’t too difficult.

“Justin!” Evans called, “Leave ‘er alone. Let’s go, Lauren’s waiting!”

“See you around, sweetness,” Justin said, winking at me before running back to the Porsche.

I force myself to keep my head up and continue walking.

Those guys were the exact reason why I didn’t mind being single. They were too immature. I didn’t want a boy, and all the men were in college. Grad school.

I could wait.

***

The next day, I was standing, in awkward silence, in a very spacious stall in the far corner of the girl’s bathroom. I’d managed to somehow spill my orange soda all over the front of my white dress shirt… And even though the school’s uniform policy wasn’t too strict – considering girls paraded in super short skirts and tight, see-through blouses with bright-colored bras underneath – I wasn’t one for bold, much less sticky, fashion statements.

I’d gotten a shirt from the nurse; she’d only had one extra in my size, and was now trying to make it look less revealing. It barely passed for a short-sleeve shirt; the sleeves kind of dangled off my shoulders and showed way too much skin. There weren’t enough buttons near the top, and I was beyond glad I always wore tank tops underneath my shirts; at least my chest was safe from over-exposure. The top was far too tight; I could barely breathe, but it was my only option.

I reached to unlock the stall door, but the sound of expensive stilettos against the marble floor made me stop.
Great,
now I have to walk out – face bearing the brightest shade of red – and walk past the other girls.
I’ll have to wash my hands too, and suffer through their nasty glares, so that they don’t think I’m unsanitary.
I heard giggling, and forced myself to reattempt exiting the stall.

The sounds of their voices had me paralyzed again. I was going to be late for creative writing if they didn’t hurry the hell up. Not that I was in a hurry to spend three precious hours in front of a man whore, but Mrs. Sawyer was scary - I wanted to stay on her good side.

“Oh. My. God, Trisha, did you hear about Fox?” one of the girls asked, I could practically hear her mouth watering with juicy gossip as she spoke.

“No, I haven’t seen him today,” Trisha (I assumed) responded, “Why?
OhmyGodTeresa, isheok
!?” she questioned in panic after a couple seconds.

“Well, he got really wasted at Lauren’s party. And he got busted driving home,” Teresa told her, pride evident in her voice.

The first to tell Trisha the latest gossip, you go girl.

“He went to jail!?” Trisha shrieked again.

“Yeah, like the orange jumpsuits and one phone call and everything.”

“Wow…” Trisha sighed, “That’s... strangely hot.”

I stifled my laughter.

“I know, right?” Teresa giggled, “Almost as hot as what we did in Lauren’s parent’s bedroom…”

I lost the need to laugh after that one.

“You didn’t!”

“…I so did.”

Trisha laughed like a hyena, “You are so bad,
Ree.”

“I know, but Fox was worth it. He’s the most adorable creature I’ve ever seen,” Teresa responded, serious again. I heard them walk out of the bathroom, and once I was sure the coast was clear, I ran out of the stall.

Pausing quickly to check myself out in the mirror, I noticed that the shirt didn’t look as tight as it felt. Even though I could barely breathe I looked... dare I say, prettier? I had never been one for tight shirts; I preferred my oversized tees or flowy tops, but it actually didn’t look half bad. I just hoped that people wouldn’t get too used to this version of me, the typical preppy HSA student. My boobs looked like C’s, even though I could barely fill out a B cup.

I ran like crazy through the desolate hallways, desperate to get to class before the bell rang. Once at the door, I stopped to catch my breath, smooth my hair and fix my shirt.

Oh, God.
I hated grand entrances.

I reluctantly sauntered through the doorway and headed straight for my seat, trying to avoid all the eyes that followed. The distance felt like a mile more than a mere ten feet, but I finally planted myself in my seat just as the final bell rang. I was safe.

Evans must’ve skipped class, because he wasn’t behind me. I was so grateful for the freedom.

Why it bothered me so much just being in his presence – I had no clue. But it did. He’s been with so many girls, all of which most likely meant absolutely nothing to him, so it’s not like I’d interest him.
Plain, middleclass, boob-less, ugly little smart girl…

Scratch that, I’m not
ugly
. I’m just…
not pretty
, especially when compared to all of these HSA girls.

“Emery?” Mrs. Sawyer called, cocking her head and narrowing her eyes in my direction. I snapped out of my daze.

“Yes, Mrs. Sawyer?” I squeaked.

“Wake up, and pay attention. I was saying that the vocabulary words are to be memorized by Friday, since the schedules have conflicted with my lesson plans,” she said sternly, giving me a silent warning before continuing.

Even when Evans wasn’t there I couldn’t focus.

***

After another awkward, boring culinary class, I hurried home to change into my Red Cross attire and then hurried back downstairs.

My father was on the couch, watching
television.

“Bye, dad,” I called, going out the back door. He didn’t seem to acknowledge me, which was strange. Nevertheless, I pulled out my iPod and kept myself entertained as I walked to the center.

Instead of seeing Nina behind the counter when I walked in, I found it empty. That was so…
not
Nina.

What’s with people and disappearing today? Is it me?