V is for Virgin

by Kelly Oram

  Isaac put a supportive arm around me, but Cara deserted me in my hour of need because Shane had tagged along with Kyle and she hadn’t seen him all week. “Baby!” she cried and jumped him like a dog in heat. “What are you doing here?” They were making out before he could respond.

  Kyle took Cara’s place next to me as if it were where he ate lunch on a daily basis. He sat backward on the bench, resting his elbows on the table and stretching his long legs out in the aisle in front of him.

  He smiled at my surprised expression. “Miss me?”

  Once I recovered from my shock, I frowned. “If you’ve come to apologize in person I assure you it was completely unnecessary. I got your messages. All two hundred and forty of them. My bedroom now has more roses than a ‘The Bachelorette’ elimination ceremony.”

  Kyle’s smile went from cocky to amused. “You put all those flowers in your bedroom?”

  I blushed. I had put them all in my room. As much as I hate to admit it, I loved the flowers. It was flattering to be the victim of such an over-the-top gesture.

  Kyle chuckled and brushed his fingers over my flaming cheeks. “You look hot when you blush, Val.”

  Flustered by his touch, I batted his fingers away, leaned back against Isaac in an obvious “I’m with him” move, and snapped, “What are you doing here?”

  Kyle grinned and slammed a paper down on the table in front of me. It was a list of some kind, and “Cryin’ Shame” was at the top of it. “Just thought you’d like to know I’m not a one hit wonder anymore.”

  So the song had hit the top of the charts. I wasn’t surprised. “Good for you.”

  “Also….” He threw another paper down on the table. This one looked like some sort of contract. “We just signed a new record deal.” He was so smug. “Looks like you’re going to get that follow up album you been pining for after all.”

  “Please tell me this includes an extensive world tour that will require you to be gone for months and months.”

  Kyle’s smile disappeared. Apparently I knew how to push his buttons. “We’re gonna title it ‘Deflower the Virgin–A Tribute to Val.’”

  There was no way he was really going to make that the name of his next album. He was just trying to get a rise out of me, but I’d promised myself after the launch that he’d never get to me again.

  “Deflower the Virgin,” I said as if testing the name to see how it sounds. Then I flashed him a bright, cheery smile. “I like it. Very creative. Should be fun to have a tribute to me. Thank you, Kyle. I’m flattered.”

  Everyone had been watching us in stunned silence up until this point, but Stephanie and Lacy both giggled at that.

  Kyle glanced at them and then rose from the table muttering curses as he threw a DVD down on top of the papers. “I brought you a copy of the music video too,” he said, and then grumbled under his breath. “Don’t know why I bothered.”

  He looked upset. If I didn’t know he’d really come all the way down to Huntington Beach to personally rub his success in my face, I might have felt bad about being rude to him. Still, his wounded look stopped me from saying anything else hurtful.

  “Thanks, Kyle. You didn’t have to do that, but thank you. I know my mom will be excited to see it. She was asking me about it the other day.”

  “Your mom?” Kyle asked annoyed. “Aren’t you excited to see it? It’s your song. I wrote it for you.”

  Somewhere behind us more than one girl sighed.

  “Honestly?” I asked. “I’m not really looking forward to seeing the video. The song is degrading enough without the visuals, thank you very much.”

  “Degrading?”

  “I’m excited to see it,” Cara called cheerfully when she saw how pissed off Kyle was getting.

  “Me too!” Olivia chimed in. “Val, we should all get together tonight and have a viewing party. I mean it’s Cara’s big acting debut after all. She deserves a party. My parents will totally let us. Kyle, you and Shane can come too!”

  Heads bobbed up and down all around me, even Kyle’s. But partying with Olivia Lewis and Kyle Hamilton, celebrating a song about Kyle wanting to get me in bed wasn’t how I wanted to spend my Friday night. “Sorry, Olivia,” I said quickly. “Isaac and I already have plans tonight.”

  “And we’re going with them,” Cara told Olivia, referring to herself and Shane. “However, unlike Val, I’m not sorry to miss out on any party you’re going to be at.”

  While Olivia cursed Cara under her breath, Kyle whirled on Shane. “Are you seriously going out with Val and The Tool tonight?”

  I bristled. “The Tool? He’s sitting right here, jerk!”

  I started to stand up but Isaac squeezed me tight. “Val, it’s okay. Just ignore him.”

  Shane shrugged at his band mate. “She’s my girl’s best friend. Gotta keep the woman happy.”

  Cara’s face lit up. “Yes, you do,” she cooed and kissed Shane again. “Don’t worry. You’ll like Isaac. He’s a total sweetie just like you.”

  Kyle had been holding one last paper in his hands, but whatever it was got crumpled when he balled his hands into fists. Then it found its way to the trashcan when Kyle stomped out of the cafeteria.

  The whole school watched him go—the girls with mixed looks of adoration for Kyle and incredulity for me. Apparently no girl in the world could understand how I could keep sending Kyle packing.

  Behind me Shane sighed. “Looks like I’m on damage control. See you tonight, babe.” He disentangled himself from Cara and nodded at Isaac and Me. “Mel’s on Sunset?”

  I looked at Isaac and he nodded. “We’ll be there at six.”

  By the time school got out the news of Kyle’s visit was all over the media and the paparazzi were back in full force. My camera-phone-happy classmates had no moral compunction about selling me out to the media.

  Things were so crazy we’d had to change our dinner plans because word got out that we were going to be at Mel’s, and a crowd of both paparazzi and Tralse fans had gathered outside hoping to catch the next Kyle Hamilton/Virgin Val episode. We’d ended up at Jerry’s Deli instead but word still got out and we began to gather a small crowd outside the window we were sitting next to.

  Every now and then someone would shriek out an, “I love you, Shane!” and he’d politely nod in response. Then, as if reminding his fans he was taken, he’d pull Cara close and plant a kiss somewhere on her person. As much as I hate to say anything good about a musician, it was sweet of Shane to make sure Cara knew she was more important to him than his fans.

  Shane’s fans loved Cara too. Every time he touched her there would be more giddy squeals and shouts of “So cute together!” and “Perfect couple!” I could tell it made Cara happy. If nothing else good came out of this whole Tralse mess, at least my best friend found love.

  I frowned at one particularly enthusiastic fan and sighed Cara’s direction. “They want to have his babies,” I said pointing at Shane. “But he only has eyes for you, and yet they love you for it. How does that work?”

  Shane laughed. “They love her because I love her.”

  This made me frown even more. “So they hate me because Kyle does?”

  “Kyle doesn’t hate you.”

  Shane said it so simply it was hard not to believe him. When he looked up and saw me waiting for an explanation, he put his fork down and stared at me intently. “Kyle doesn’t hate you,” he insisted. “He feels the opposite of hate for you. That’s why his fans are mad at you.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “Like with Cara and me, Kyle’s fans want him to be happy, and all you do is piss him off.”

  “Well if that’s all I do, then maybe he should take the hint and go find a girl that makes him happy.”

  “Ah.” Shane sighed. “Now, see that’s the problem. He has found a girl that makes him happy.”

  I waited, and then blinked when I realized what he meant. “Me?” I asked incredulously. “That’s impossible. He barely knows me.”


  Shane’s lips pulled into a teasing smile. “You made quite the impression on him the first time we met.”

  Beside me, Isaac laughed. He wasn’t as into public displays of affection as Cara and Shane were, so I was surprised when he tucked me securely to his side, and thrilled when he placed a chaste kiss on my lips. “You do make quite the first impression,” he teased.

  Shane nodded. “Kyle may not know your likes and dislikes and all that, but it’s easy to see what kind of person you are, and that’s what Kyle’s attracted to. You’re a lot alike, you know?”

  “Who is?” Cara asked.

  “Val and Kyle.”

  “Excuse me. I am not an egotistical manwhore.”

  “But you’re confident and driven. When you guys came to the club that night, you didn’t just stand up to Kyle. You said things to him that he’s needed to hear for a long time. We’ve been talking about doing a second album for over a year now, but it was always just talk because Kyle wasn’t into it.

  “Kyle’s not just the writer of the group, he’s the life behind Tralse. Always has been. Everyone told us we’d never be anything as a band, so Kyle made it happen just to prove everyone wrong. He was a force to be reckoned with. Once we hit platinum status and everything came so easy for us Kyle stopped trying. He didn’t have anything to prove to anyone anymore. Not until the night some eighteen-year-old virgin barged into his show and told him he’d never be more than a washed up, uneducated, chickless, one hit wonder.”

  My cheeks flamed as Isaac turned to look at me with one eyebrow arched higher than the other. “He’s making it sound worse than it was,” I said.

  Cara laughed. “No, he’s not.”

  “No I’m not,” Shane agreed. “If it wasn’t that bad, it wouldn’t have affected Kyle so much. He hadn’t written a song in two years, but since the night he met you he’s written enough to fill three albums.”

  Like one song about me isn’t bad enough? “Three albums?”

  “At least,” Cara said. “I’ve heard a few of them. They’re good.”

  I tried not to sigh. “I’m sure they are. There’s no denying Kyle has talent. But why do I have to be the one who sparks his creativity?”

  “Every artist needs his muse,” Shane said. “He drove all the way down to your school today excited to show you everything he’s accomplished because of you.”

  I snorted. “He came down to rub it in my face.”

  “He still wanted you to know,” Shane said with a shrug. “Kyle Hamilton doesn’t go out of his way to impress girls—he doesn’t have to—but he drove straight to you after our meeting with the record company today because he wanted to make you proud of him.”

  My jaw fell slack. I felt a tiny flutter in my stomach and tried to push it way down. I felt awful for the way I treated him when he arrived.

  “The whole record deal is because of you,” Shane went on. “After that launch thing of yours the other night, Kyle marched into our label’s office demanding to record another album. He kept muttering about you, saying he was going to record you an album so hot that trying to resist him would become physically painful for you.”

  I almost choked on the food in my mouth. “He what?”

  Shane grinned. “Face it, Virgin Val, you inspire the man.”

  Isaac squeezed me proudly again. “See? If you can inspire Kyle Hamilton, then you can inspire everyone. You’re going to be an amazing spokesperson.”

  I smiled at that. Tomorrow I was doing my photo shoot for the Not Everybody’s Doing It Foundation, and then I was scheduled for my first classroom appearance as a spokesperson the following week. I’d been making myself sick over my lecture for days, and Isaac had been the most amazing support system.

  “However,” Isaac said to Shane after giving me another quick kiss on the cheek. “I wish you would inspire your band mate to leave my girlfriend alone.”

  Girlfriend. He hadn’t said the word before. It left me feeling all kinds of warm inside. I knew that’s what I was now, but it was still a thrill to hear it escape Isaac’s lips.

  “Yeah, sorry about that man,” Shane said sheepishly. “I know I wouldn’t want to sit through a whole dinner hearing about some other guy crushing on my girl, but Kyle’s my boy. I promised I’d put in a good word for him tonight.”

  I was blushing so fiercely I thought I was going to die from it. “Okay.” I groaned. “You’ve more than done your wingman’s duty now, so can we please talk about something else?”

  Just then there was another random squeal and the flash of a camera on the other side of the window.

  “In fact, can we leave now? Let’s go see a movie or something where it’s nice and dark and people won’t see us.”

  Shane glanced out the window and chuckled. “Don’t worry, Val. The hype will wear off pretty soon. Give it another week and there will be some A-list celebrity with an eating disorder or divorce scandal. Your sex life will be old news.”

  I really, really, really hoped he was right.

  The weeks passed, and turned into months, but Shane’s prediction that the hype would fade never came true. It was all Kyle’s fault. Basically, Kyle was obsessed with our little “feud” and ran his mouth off about me any time the opportunity arose. Due to the insane success of Tralse’s second album, that was all the time.

  Originally, things had calmed down for a while. Then the album came out, and Kyle gave an interview on a late night TV show announcing to the world that he’d personally dedicated the album to me (and my legs) because he’d written every song on it with me in mind. This sparked a lot of tabloid gossip because there were some seriously dirty songs, and some really angry songs, and even a few completely romantic songs on the album.

  Apparently what I inspired in Kyle Hamilton was a multiple personality disorder.

  Kyle was right, though—the album was hot. If I hadn’t known who wrote it, or whom it was about, it would have made me swoon the way it did every other girl in the world.

  It was titled S Is For Sex. This was, of course, a lot better than Kyle’s original threat of Deflower the Virgin, but it was still a personal dig at me. Needless to say, the media had a field day with it.

  The paparazzi followed me all over the place, always wanting a comment about something that Kyle had said. I tried my best not to rise to their bait, but seeing as how my best friend was glued at the hip to Kyle’s best friend, and Kyle was hell bent on making sure we ran into each other, I wasn’t very good at not adding fuel to the fire. No one knew how to push my buttons more than Kyle. Every time we had to be in the same room together I managed to lose my temper, and our fights were always caught on film.

  Half the time, because I refused to read the tabloids, I was the last one to even know all the drama in my soap opera life. The day the Zach accusation hit the stands was one of those times.

  I’d just gotten out of a meeting in the school’s administration office, and was trying to make it to lunch while I still had time to eat, when I was cornered by a group of junior girls I knew vaguely from the JV cheer squad. “There she is!” one of them hissed and then they were all getting up in my personal space.

  “You are such a slut!” one girl shouted. “How could you do that to Sophia?”

  I raised my eyes to the heavens and sighed. “I don’t have time for this today.” I rubbed the ache in my temples and focused on the girl who appeared to be the ringleader. “I have no idea who Sophia is, and whatever Kyle claims I did this time, it’s a lie. Okay? Everything settled? I’m sorry. I’d love to stay and chat but I’m in a hurry.”

  “I don’t think so chica.” A really tall Amazon-looking girl stepped to the front of the crowd not hiding the fact that she wanted to pound me into the ground. “Sophia is my best friend and this isn’t a lie!”

  The girl shoved a magazine in my face, and I instantly forgot about everything I was supposed to be doing right then.

  I’d learned how to keep myself from shedding tears, but there
was no way I could hide my reaction when I saw the image on the cover of the magazine. It was a picture Cara had taken over a year ago from a camping trip we’d gone on with Zach and a few of his friends. The caption read, “‘I slept with Virgin Val!’ Ex boyfriend comes clean about his steamy secret getaway with the notorious good girl.” A smaller caption underneath read, “Rock God Kyle Hamilton reacts to the shocking news,” and showed a picture of a seemingly heartbroken Kyle.

  I knew the picture well. I loved it even. Until now.

  Zach and I had been swimming and were lying out to dry off, but we got cold so we’d covered up with a blanket. Zach had made some cheesy comment about needing body heat to keep from dying of hypothermia and pulled me on top of him. I was laughing as he kissed me when Cara snapped the picture.

  It became a notorious picture among our small group of friends because the swimsuit I’d been wearing was a tube top and with the blanket, and the angle of the picture, you could only see the tiniest part of my swimsuit. It basically looked like Zach and I were naked under that blanket.

  We weren’t.

  We’d never even gotten further than that one kiss that whole trip. We even slept in separate tents.

  “This was taken over a year ago,” I said numbly. “We’re wearing swimsuits.”

  “Yeah, right liar!”

  “You’re a fraud!”

  “Fake!”

  “Slut!”

  “Skank!”

  “Boyfriend stealer!”

  The JV girls began spouting a rather vulgar cheer they’d made up just for me as I walked away, but I didn’t care. I didn’t know them, and they obviously didn’t know me. Their insults weren’t what hurt. I was upset because only three people had copies of that picture, and in order for the tabloids to have it, Zach would have had to give them his. Because Cara and I sure as hell didn’t give them either of ours.