by Kelly Oram
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.
Annie327: Pig! It’s guys like u that make girls scared to admit we’re virgins.
Cherrychapstick: Yeah, Mr. You Wish You Were James Dean. I seriously doubt you’re getting laid. Don’t listen to him, girl! You did the right thing. There needs to be more people like you out there. Then maybe it wouldn’t be so hard for us girls.
Lacrosse4life: You think you girls have it hard? I’m waiting too because sex should be with someone you love. I’m a senior and still a virgin. I have to lie all the time so that people don’t accuse me of being gay.
Hugsnkisses23: Aw, Lacrosse, that’s sweet. Wish you were in Kansas. I would date you.
The comments went on and on like that. I spent the rest of computer lab scrolling through them, starting from the first comments, which were obviously mostly my classmates, and read all the way to Cara’s colorful little masterpiece.
Aside from the twenty-six guys and eighteen girls that shared James Dean’s attitude, the results of the responses were very interesting. It turned out that thirty-seven girls were dumped for not having sex. Another fifty-seven admitted to having sex before they were ready. Two girls claimed that they had sex because they were too scared to say no and ended up pregnant because they weren’t prepared.
I really felt for poor Lacrosse4life. Even anonymously he was the only guy to admit to being a virgin. But my heart especially went out to those two girls who admitted to getting pregnant. One had given her baby up and the other had had an abortion.
Suddenly, I didn’t mind my self-professed virginity being posted for the world to see. I didn’t care that people were laughing at me. I didn’t even care that my name was painted on a stall in the boys’ bathroom.
Someone had to stand up for these poor girls, and for anyone who was afraid to say no to sex. Afraid of being mocked. Afraid of being dumped. If that person had to be me, then so be it. I didn’t think I could do much to change the ways of the world, but maybe I could make it a little better for the sexually challenged population of Huntington High.
Then, suddenly, I had the perfect idea how.
Monday after school I strode into the theater, my arms so full of stuff that I could barely see the floor in front of me. Cara was in the middle of a monologue, and when she gets started on one of those there’s no telling when it will end.
I set my stuff on the ground and waited patiently for her to get to the dramatic climax of her speech. When she was finished, I whistled and clapped and cheered obnoxiously. Cara responded with a sarcastic bow my direction.
“Hey drama queen,” I shouted up to the stage, “is rehearsal done yet? I need you.”
Before Cara could answer me, Mrs. Feeney, the drama coach said, “On the contrary, Miss Jensen. It is us who need you.”
“Excuse me?”
“It seems you have quite the flair for drama. I noticed in the cafeteria the other last week that you don’t seem to mind being in the spotlight. We could certainly use you in the drama club.”
Ha! Yeah right. “Oh, thanks Mrs. Feeney,” I said. “But it’s like you said, I already have a flair for drama. I shouldn’t make it worse, you know?”
“Pity.” Mrs. Feeney sighed then waved her hand at Cara. “Stunning performance Cara. I suppose we can wrap for today.”
Cara reached me just about the time I got all of my stuff back into my arms. “Where have you been all weekend?” she said, noticing the load I was juggling. “And what is all this junk?”
“I was busy,” I answered, “finding all this junk.”
“Because…?”
“It’s for our new project.”
“What new project?”
“Our booth at the festival.”
“We don’t have a booth at the festival,” Cara told me. “You have a booth at the festival. I already have a project, and it’s a total disaster.”
“What about your local band with the hottie?”
“Science of Sydney? Yeah, they broke up.”
“Can’t you talk them into doing a reunion show?”
Cara sighed a perfect replica of the dramatic sigh Mrs. Feeney had given me just minutes before. “My hottie, it turns out, moved to Seattle. I’m back at square one. No band for the festival. No hottie to make fall in love with me.”
“Man, your life is rough,” I teased.
“I know. On the bright side, it makes for good experience. My acting will only get better.”
“Well, not that I want to hinder your learning experience, but I know what will cheer you up and make you forget all about your Seattle-bound hottie.” I didn’t give her a chance to respond before I said, “Helping me with my project!” and dragged her out of the auditorium.
We were headed for Mrs. Sutter’s classroom. She’s our senior class advisor, and we always meet in her room for our council meetings. She’s also a biology teacher, which worked out perfectly today because those big black lab tables were exactly what I needed.
“What is all this?” Cara asked unimpressed with the booty I’d pulled from all my bags.
“Beads,” I explained. “Among other things. I spent the weekend going to bead shops and craft stores getting them to donate stuff for my cause.”
“How very Greenpeace of you. Um, what cause?”
“This cause.”
I handed Cara a couple of papers I’d printed off the Internet earlier. “Not Everybody’s Doing It,” she read, and then wrinkled her nose. “What is this?”
“It’s a non-profit organization I found online that promotes abstinence. They go around to different high schools educating people on the benefits of waiting to have sex. The statistics of teenagers who aren’t sexually active are surprisingly higher than you’d think.”
I took the paper back from her and handed her my sketchpad. As she looked at the sketches I’d drawn of different earrings, necklaces and bracelets, all of them containing the letter V in some way, I continued to explain myself. “I’m going to donate the funds from my booth at the festival to them.”
Cara flipped the page and saw the sketch of the banner I wanted to make for my booth. “V is for Virgin?” she asked.
My hand automatically went for my necklace. “That’s what people have been telling me all week. I figure if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. If they want a virgin, they’re gonna get one.”
“Rock on. You’ve got guts, V.”
“It’s not about having guts. You saw what people were saying on YouTube. We shouldn’t have to be ashamed or afraid to say no to sex. Becoming sexually active is a huge decision. It’s not one we should let the world or even our own boyfriends make for us.
“The idea is that girls will buy this jewelry and wear it to show that they are also waiting. The more people can see that I’m not the only virgin in the world, the easier it will be for other girls who want to wait.”
“Makes sense,” Cara said. “A
s long as you can get people to wear them. That’s not going to be very easy considering everyone in this school saw what happened to you last week. You think people are going to sign up to join your club?”
Ouch. I hadn’t thought of that. “Way to burst my bubble.”
Cara shrugged. “At least I’m still going to help you make all these stupid necklaces, even though I should totally be looking for a band right now.”
Cara picked up one of the wires I’d fastened a clasp to and began stringing beads on it. We worked in silence for a while as I wracked my brain for answers to the problem Cara brought up. “What I need is a few other people willing to wear them before the festival.”
“What poor sucker’s going to agree to do that?” Cara laughed.
I cocked my head to the side, raising my eyebrow at my best friend. “V.” She rolled her eyes at me. “It’s true you rescued me from backstage at the Warped Tour last year quickly enough that my virginity is still intact, but—”
“But nothing. You’re wearing one.”
“Of course I am.” Cara sighed. “You know I was already planning on it. I’m just saying that me wearing one isn’t going to make a difference. You and I are a package deal. What one of us does, the other does too. Nobody will care. We need an outsider to join in the fun.”
“I think I know who our first victim should be,” I said holding up our first finished necklace, its little V charm dangling proudly in the center.
“Well what are we waiting for then?” Cara laughed and pulled me to my feet.
We found Robin sitting at the same computer she’d been sitting at when she showed us the YouTube comments. She’s not a nerd or anything, but she does the layout for the school newspaper so she’s pretty much always in the computer lab.
“That is so cool!” is what she said after we’d explained our plan and given her the necklace. “I’d be happy to wear it. I’d bet I could get some of the kids in my seminary class to wear them too, if you think it would help.”
“Doubtful,” Cara said. “No offense to the religious crowd or anything, but your being a virgin isn’t a big shocker. What we need is someone with a lot of clout around this place that would be the most unlikely virgin ever. We need the shock factor.”
“What about Isaac Warren?” Robin suggested.
“Shut up!” Cara screamed while I myself was too shocked to say anything. “Isaac Warren is a virgin?”
Isaac Warren was only one of the most popular kids in school. He was tall, dark and dangerously handsome. He kept his rich brown hair short enough that he didn’t need to comb it, which only made the fact that he was one of the few guys in school capable of growing a five o’clock shadow more noticeable, and he had the most beautiful hazel eyes that lit up when he smiled. He pitched for the baseball team and rode a motorcycle to school. Every girl in Orange County was in love with him.
“How do you know that? Isaac Warren goes to bible study?” I asked. I just couldn’t picture it.
“He’s a really good guy,” Robin said, nodding enthusiastically. “He thinks what you did was pretty awesome. I bet he’d help you.”
“Isaac Warren was talking about me?” I was surprised at the way that made my heart flutter.
“Yeah, we were all talking about what happened before our class the other morning. Isaac said he hated the way some of his friends have been treating you. He’s been telling them to knock it off.”
I felt a hand come down on my arm, and then, Cara’s nails were digging into my skin, though she didn’t realize it. “Forget Eric Kwan,” she breathed. “Go for Isaac, girl.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Robin said.
I have to admit I didn’t think she actually would, or that he’d listen to her anyway. That’s why I was so surprised when a few days later as I was sitting in Mrs. Sutter’s room again, stringing a pair of earrings—alone this time as Cara was off “researching” more potential bands—Isaac Warren knocked on the open door.
“How’s it going?” he asked as he strolled ever so casually up to the table I was working at.
“Good.” I tried to play it cool. I was a new, strong, confident Val now, and the new Val didn’t turn to mush just because Isaac Warren was talking to her.
“I saw that necklace you made for Robin,” he said picking up my sketchpad. He flipped through the pages, studying my drawings and then said, “These are pretty good. You design jewelry or something?”
“Oh, that’s just a hobby.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I mean for now. I’d like to do it for real some day.”
My heart was racing a mile a minute as Isaac put my drawings back down and picked up one of the necklaces I’d made. I felt so awkward because Isaac is just so ultra cool, and I am just so not in the same league, but he was talking to me as if I were. He pulled out the chair next to mine and straddled it, still playing with the necklace he held.
“Tell me about all this stuff,” he said, jerking his head toward my never-ending mound of beads.
So I told him. I told him about all the comments on YouTube, and my V is for Virgin campaign. He listened very politely, and even appeared to skim over the papers I’d shown him about the Not Everybody’s Doing It Foundation.
Eventually I got to the problem Cara mentioned about people being too scared to be one of the first to start the trend. When I was all finished, Isaac nodded thoughtfully, playing with the V charm on a bracelet he now held. “So you think that it will help your cause if I start wearing bracelets?” he asked.
His tone was serious. I blushed so deep red that I was in danger of turning blue, but when I looked up he was smiling—totally just giving me a hard time.
“I’m going to be making key chains too, and those little charms that hang off the zipper of your backpack,” I explained, relieved that my face was starting to return to its natural color.
“And if I start carrying one around, then other people won’t be afraid to?”
I shrugged. “There are certain people out there that can make anything look cool. Even virginity.”
“You think I could be one of those people?”
“No. You are that person.”
Isaac didn’t say anything for a long minute after that. He just sat there staring into my eyes. I could see him contemplating the possible repercussions of what I was asking him to do. After what felt like forever, he leaned in close to me, completely intense, and asked, “What if I’m not a virgin?”
This caught me off guard. “You mean you’re not?”
The corners of Isaac’s mouth twitched like he was fighting back a smile, and he didn’t answer my question. Instead he said, “It’s a good idea, but it’s a little biased don’t you think? People can’t help it if they’ve already lost their virginity. What about all those girls you told me about who feel bad because they had sex but they weren’t ready? How does your campaign help them?”
So was that Isaac’s deal? Was he one of those who’d done it prematurely? Did he regret doing it? He had a point, though. What I was doing didn’t help those people.
There had to be a way. Even if I didn’t know what that way was yet, I’d figure it out because I wanted to help those people. I wanted to help them very, very badly. I thought for a minute, and then returned the challenging stare he was giving with every bit the confidence he had. “Just make sure to stop by my booth at the festival,” I said.
After another moment, Isaac’s intense stare turned into a small grin. “I’ll do that,” he said and then strolled out of the room.
It took me less than twenty-four hours to figure it out, and I owe it all to a girl who goes by the alias NYCgirl861. I’d gone home from school that day and went straight to the YouTube link just as I’d done ever since Robin showed me the comments. Every day there were a few more. Today it was this one that caught my attention:
NYCgirl861: Sex is overrated anyway. Ever since my boyfriend and I decided to be sexually active it’s ALL he ever wants to do. Just
sex, sex, sex. Maybe I should dump him and find someone who will actually take me out on a date once in a while.
It was because of that comment that I found myself in the computer lab after school the next day. “Hey!” Robin greeted me cheerfully when I walked in. “So did Isaac ever find you?”
“Yeah, he did. That’s kind of why I’m here.”
“Is he going to be your guinea pig?”
I thought about telling her that he couldn’t be because he wasn’t a virgin like she thought, but for some reason I felt like maybe I should keep his secret. “He didn’t say one way or the other,” I told her. “But he did bring up an interesting point.”
“Oh?”
“He asked me how my campaign helped people who already lost their virginity.”
“Good point,” Robin said, her face falling into a frown. “I guess it doesn’t.”
“Not yet.”
“You have an idea?”
I pulled out the matching necklace and earrings I’d brought with me. Robin frowned again when she saw them. This pair had little As on them. “I thought they were all supposed to have Vs on them.”
“The Vs are for virgins, but not everyone is a virgin, so I made these.” I looked down at the shiny little A and smiled. “A is for abstinence.”
“Abstinence?”
“Just because someone has had sex, doesn’t mean it’s too late to say no. If they weren’t ready for it, then they don’t have to keep doing it.”
“Cool. Problem solved. So what brings you to my neck of the woods?”
“Well.” I smiled, excited to reveal my plan. “How much do you know about making websites?”
“You thinking of taking V is for Virgin online?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “We’re going to need a place for people to report their progress.”
