White is for Virgins (9 page)

“Do you need help with the homework then?” I asked, squinting at all the little numbers.

“Nope. I’m good in Calculus.” He hopped off the counter.

Really?

“Oh,” I state, trying to ignore my noisy, empty stomach.

Lily and I had decided to skip lunch, seeing as I didn’t want to eat in front of a nosey,
rude audience.

“You hungry?” Fox asked, staring at me, “’Cause I am.”

Before I had the chance to lie, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the kitchen.

I needed to work on my homework, and take advantage of the free time. Carlos had somehow disappeared, and Nina was as stressed as ever. She was making Fox and I cover for Carlos
, while she taught the CPR and babysitting courses.

“Fox, Nina will flip if we aren’t behind the counter. She’ll make us clean the already spotless storage room again!” I told him, trying to stay quiet.

“Don’t worry, she’s in her office,” he said calmly, opening the fridge and scanning the contents.

“Yeah, but she can easily come out of there. What if the phone rings or something?” I asked in a nervous tone.

“You seriously need to chill, Em.” He moved onto the cabinets nonchalantly.

I took a deep breath.

“Find anything good?” I asked, suddenly very, very hungry.

“Noodles
,” he replied, pulling out two Styrofoam cups of microwavable noodles.

“Is it edible?” I asked, scrunching my nose.

“Let’s find out,” he stated, placing the cups of noodles on the counter.

I watched, fascinated, as he filled the kettle with tap water and placed it on the stove.

He caught me staring and smirked.

Within minutes, he was pouring the boiling water into our cups of noodles, and mixing the soup with plastic spoons.

“Actually, can I have a fork?” I asked, turning to walk back to the lobby.

He gave me a strange look, but brought me my soup with a fork. It was easier to grab the noodles that way, otherwise they’d slip off the spoon and the soup would plop everywhere.

“Aww, Fox made me dinner,” I cooed, “
Mmm
, artificially-flavored noodles. My favorite.”

“Hey! I tried,” he said in his defense before adding in a cocky tone, “How many of your boyfriends have ever cooked you such a fine dinner?”

I patted the noodles with my fork, “Um… none.”

Not the truth, not a lie.

“You are something else, Em. Don’t go all the way home with your boyfriends, they don’t cook for you. What exactly do you guys do then? Play scrabble?” he smirked.

“Well, guys in the seventh grade don’t exactly have sex with their girlfriends,” I replied, scooping a forkful of noodles into my mouth.

“Are you saying the last boyfriend you had was in seventh grade?” he asked, struggling with his soup.

“See, forks are better,” I told him triumphantly, “And I’m saying the
only boyfriend I had was in seventh grade.”

He started laughing. Not hysterically, but something close to it.

“You’re shitting me,” he exclaimed.

“I… shit you not…” I replied awkwardly, wiping soup off my chin with the back of my hand.

“Well, did he break your heart or something?” Fox asked, making fun of me.

“Nope. That lasted a pathetic five days, and I only ‘went out’ with him because he had liked me for the past four years and he was leaving the school,” I replied sheepishly. Why I was telling him the pitiful truth, I had no idea.

He started laughing again.

“I’m glad you find this funny,” I muttered, staring into my soup.

Just when I think he’s okay to be around, he goes and acts like a jerk.

He continued laughing.

“And what about you? How many girlfriends have you had? Because all I have heard about is how you sleep around with every girl that has a pretty face and nice legs,” I snapped defensively.

He stopped laughing.

His expression turned hard as he explained, “The reason I don’t date is because I can’t see myself with one girl for that long. Girls get boring, and they get all attached and they cry all the time.” He furrowed his eyebrows before continuing, “And I don’t sleep around with every pretty girl that’s in sight because you’re clearly still a virgin,” he scoffed, turning his attention back to his cup of noodles.

I blushed a little, bending my head down to let my hair curtain my cheeks.

“So you hate girls on a long term basis? But they’re good for one night?” I questioned, placing my cup on the counter.

He nodded, smiling wickedly. “And what about you, what do you have against guys?” he countered, placing his cup next to mine.

“I… have nothing against them,” I shrugged, “It’s just that guys are immature little horn dogs.”

He sneered, “And we always will be, that’s what makes us so irresistible.”

I shook my head. “Well I’d prefer a guy a little more established. One who’s like, halfway through college, who knows what he’s going to do with his life and who knows how to treat a woman,” I replied, surprised at how much I was sharing with this man whore.

“Wait, so you’re telling me you’re going to graduate high school a
virgin, and stay one until you’re in your twenties?” he clarified incredulously.

It isn
’t all that ridiculous…

I ground my teeth together. “Maybe I am. Is that so hard to believe?”

“You have no idea,” he smirked, “You’re missing out, Em.”

“Will you stop calling me that? Stop acting like you know me, Fox, because you don’t,” I told him
straight up. I snatched my backpack and headed for the door.

I felt guilty for leaving Nina, but didn’t turn back. It was best if she were alone, anyway. If anything, Fox could deal with her wrath.

***

Lily and I were eating our lunch in the quiet of the enormous gymnasium, on the other side of school. It seemed like an ideal place to eat; spacious, empty, and most importantly it was far away from the cafeteria and its heinous inhabitants.

There were two floors to the gym; the first was used for playing basketball, volleyball, and any other sport involving balls, nets, and glossy floors. The second floor was basically an indoor track that encircled the polished court, with a railing guarding us from falling a good 20 feet to the ground.

It was pretty luxurious. I was impressed.

“So, how long do you think until this whole me-being-a-virgin thing blows over?” I asked, nibbling on a juicy piece of lettuce.

“I give it a good week. Or until something else extremely epic comes up,” Lily shrugged, taking a sip of her lemonade juice box.

“
Grrreat…” I sighed sarcastically.

Why was it so hard to just go to school and learn a thing or two?
I don’t need all this extra stress
.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Lily said enthusiastically, “We all go through our rough patches.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Speaking of
rough
patches…” Lily groaned, staring at something behind me.

I turned around and found a bunch of guys – rather cute guys – heading in our direction. The two gentlemen leading the way? Fox and Nick.

“What is
this
?” I wondered out loud, and Fox smirked.

I guess he heard me.

“
This
is the track team. Coach always schedules a meeting before our weekend meets,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning up against the rail. Had I mentioned we were on the second floor? Track central?

“Right…” I nodded, noticing Nick glancing between Lily and me.

Well this is uncomfortable; tons of hot guys standing around watching you eat.

“So, Emery,” someone stated amidst the crowd, “I hear you’re
a choosey one.”

I turned to find Justin stepping forward. My cheeks flushed, and I looked down at my salad.
I really don’t need this right now.

I turned to Lily, but she was staring at her shoes, too.
What’s up with her?

“Y
ou know, if you’re free before health, I could probably help you with that little problem.” A few guys laugh in amusement at his proposition. “I’m sure Ms. Tibble wouldn’t mind you being a couple minutes late, and for such a good cause.” 

I glared at him, my cheeks blazing.

“Thanks for the offer and all, but I’d rather get shot in the face than get with you,” I managed to say, loud and clear.

A few ‘
oh’s and ‘you just got told’s escape our little audience, and Justin grew visibly angry.

“I was just trying to do you a favor, but if you want to stay a loser, go ahead.”

“That was weak, Justin,” Lily quipped. “Why don’t you just leave and spare yourself further embarrassment?”

He turned to her, and so did everyone else.

“Why don’t you step off, Lil.”

“Just screw off,
Justin,” Lily hissed with yellow-eyed fury.

“Hey!” Fox interrupted, his emerald eyes gleaming from under his hoodie, “Just leave them alone guys, we’ve got laps to run.”

As the guys headed for the starting line in their shorts and wife-beaters, Fox gave me one last, long look before joining them. I watched in silence as he lifted his hoodie over his shoulders and pulled it off, exposing his toned body beneath a simple white wife-beater.

“Assholes,” I muttered, shaking my head as I got off the bleachers to pick up my stuff.

“I hate them. All of them,” Lily murmured, swinging her messenger bag over her shoulder.

I could’ve sworn her eyes were glossy, and her cheek was wet, but I didn’t ask her about it. We weren’t that close yet, and I didn’t want to invade her business.

***

Health class was as dreadful as ever. I officially despised Ms.
Tibble. It was all her fault I was the laughingstock of the school. Thirty minutes of her class, listening to her was proving to be too hard a task for me.

Her lesson went something like this: “Blah
blah sex blahdy-blah blah sex blah prevention blah blah sexually transmitted disease blah blah blah condoms, blah blah pregnancy blahdy-blah blah-blah sex blah blah-blah hormones blah sex blah.”

How many times can you use that word in
half hour period? Honestly?

The ‘s’ word was seriously starting to annoy me, and certain students enjoyed turning around to make faces at me whenever the ‘s’ word came out of Ms.
Tibble’s giant, red lip-stained mouth.

I r
aised my hand within the first ten minutes of class and asked to go to the nurse. Ms. Tibble, who had been talking about menstrual cycles again, took it as a sign that it was my time of the month and winked at me before giving me a pass.

I didn’t even bother trying to explain myself.

“Thanks.” I wasted no time snatching the pass and grabbing my bag on my way out of room.

I wasn’t accustomed to skipping class, but since the school nurses were always old, crabby ladies that sucked at their jobs, I just sat in the nook of the hallway a few rooms down from my next class. The less I had to walk through the hallways, the better.

I heard the delicate sound of strings being plucked, and stuck my head out to inspect the hall. No one was to the left, but as I turned to the right, a voice made me jump.

“Skipping class, are we?” he asked, and my heart started racing as I stared at his khaki colored dress pants and his Vans.

His green eyes caught mine with a weird look.

I decided to stand up, rather than remain kneeling, before he took advantage of the situation and made a crude joke about my position.

Even when I stood up, I was facing his broad shoulders.

“I couldn’t take health class,” I muttered, running hand through my hair. He had me cornered between two lockers.

“Why?” he questioned, instead of smirking like I’d expected him to.

“Too many sex references,” I shrugged, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Why are you so against sex?” he prodded curiously, placing a hand on the wall to my left and leaning closer to me. His voice held a hint of impatience.

“Stop assuming things about me,” I snapped, “I’m not against it. I just think I should know someone thoroughly before I get that intimate with them.”

He remained expressionless; a skill I wish I had. Dropping his hand, he backed slowly away from me.

“Why are you even here?” I asked him, staring at the acoustic strapped around his back. The leather strap was pressed to his white dress shirt, and his navy tie was folded awkwardly beneath it. Still, he looked effortlessly handsome.

I forced myself to look back at his face. “History was never my favorite subject,” he replied, pulling on the strap so that his guitar came around.

He began playing it again.

“What if someone hears you?” I whispered, afraid that a teacher would suddenly burst from their classroom and catch us.

“They won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I just
am
,” he sighed, annoyed.

“No wonder you need a tutor.” I smirked, “You don’t even
go to class.”

He ignored this, playing a quick series of notes.

“You’re really good.” The comment escaped my mouth.

“Why are you still whispering?” he asked, not looking up.