by Kelly Oram
I felt Isaac’s arms came around me and couldn’t keep from crying any longer. The look on his face was heartbreaking. He was hurting because I was, and he had no idea what to do or say to make me feel better.
“It’s okay,” I whispered and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be okay.” I stood up and forced a smile to all of my stunned friends, trying my best to ignore their looks of pity. It didn’t help that I couldn’t stop crying. “Sorry, guys. I have to go. I’ve got to be in Whittier in half an hour.”
Nobody said anything as I got up except for Cara. “Hey, Val?” Now I could hear her voice shaking so I turned back to look at her. Her eyes were glossed over. I’d never seen Cara cry before. Not real tears. It made the moment infinitely worse.
“You know why I never told you?” she asked. “Because I was waiting for a time when it was just you and me. I didn’t want to tell Virgin Val about something so special. I wanted to tell Valerie Jensen, my best friend, about it. Eventually I stopped holding my breath.”
My heart broke for the second time that day. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. It wasn’t enough, but it was the only thing I could think to say.
“Please give a warm welcome to the Not Everybody’s Doing It Foundation’s very own, Virgin Val!”
This was a typical introduction given by the school’s principal. I’d been expecting it, but I hadn’t been expecting the response from the students waiting for my presentation.
Usually I was met with polite applause, mild snickering, the occasional catcall, and the inevitable “I LOVE KYLE!” screeches. Today I was bombarded with boos and profane insults.
High school students in Whittier were obviously more up to speed on their celebrity gossip than my own classmates.
The principal looked mortified and tried her best to calm the crowd with threats of detention, and, when that didn’t work, suspension.
I wanted to crawl under the podium in front of me and hide there until the nightmare ended, but I knew I couldn’t run from this problem. It was too big. It was going to follow me everywhere, possibly for the rest of my life, and avoiding it would not make it go away.
So, though it was the last thing I wanted to do, I smiled at the principal and spoke as clearly as I could through my shaking voice, into the microphone. “I guess you guys saw today’s tabloids.”
I waited out another round of jeering. There were so many shouts, both curious and angry, being thrown at me that I went numb all over. The principal tried to rush me off stage but three simple words caught my attention.
Someone in the audience shouted, “Is it true?”
“Of course it’s not true,” I muttered in a daze. “That picture was taken over a year ago and we were wearing swimsuits in it. I could prove it if I wanted to. The date is printed on the back of that picture, and there were six other people standing around when it was taken that would all vouch for me. In my copy of that picture you can see part of my swimsuit so the tabloids must have altered it. I’m sure my lawyers will release my statement along with the real photo tomorrow, but it doesn’t matter. People are going to believe whatever they want about me anyway. I know the truth and that’s what matters to me.”
I turned to leave but then someone shouted another string of questions that I couldn’t help answering. “Was it your ex-boyfriend who sold you out? Why do you think he did it?”
I’d been asking myself the same question. “I don’t know why he did it,” I whispered.
I couldn’t stop the tears from falling down my face, so I left my audience to go cry in privacy. I looked at the principal as I walked off the stage. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I can’t do this today. Would it be all right to reschedule?”
The principal seemed surprised I’d want to reschedule. She put an arm around my shoulder and ushered me off the stage, muttering to her assistant principal that none of the kids in the auditorium were to leave until the end of the day—it was an automatic detention for all of them.
Darla and Christina stayed behind to talk to the principal, but I needed out of that building. The walls were closing in on me. After assuring everyone that I would be okay I headed for the sanctuary of Darla’s car.
“I don’t think you want to do that,” a voice said quietly as I put my hand on the front door, ready to escape into the parking lot.
I whirled around, shocked to see the tall lean figure leaning against the wall just to the left of the door. He had a hat and sunglasses and some hideous fake-beard thing covering his face to the point where he was unrecognizable, but I knew that voice.
“Kyle!” I gasped. “What are you doing here?”
“Rescuing you.” Kyle peeled himself off the wall and took my hand away from the push bar on the door. “Your website has your lecture schedule posted. Every paparazzi within a six hour drive is waiting for you out there.”
The walls stopped caving in and started spinning. I thanked my fight with Cara for preventing me from eating lunch because otherwise it would have been in a puddle at my feet.
“Whoa,” Kyle said and made a quick grab for me when I got dizzy. “Come on. Lets get you out of here.”
I didn’t argue. I sagged against Kyle and let him drag me through the empty halls of the school. He stopped at a set of doors on the opposite side of the building and pulled a well-worn baseball hat out of his back pocket. After sticking it on my head he also brandished a big pair of dark sunglasses and stuck them on my face.
“Just keep your head down and walk at a normal pace.”
I nodded and then took the arm Kyle offered me. He walked me quickly through the student parking lot and then across the football field to where his car was parked just beyond school property. As I climbed into the passenger seat I caught a glimpse of the media circus that had been waiting to ambush me out front of the school. The full extent of it was startling.
“Nice work,” Kyle said acknowledging my gasp. “I’ve caused a heyday or two in my time, but never one big enough to warrant the police.”
Sure enough, there were red and blue lights flashing in the chaos. I assumed they’d been called in for crowd control and to keep the reporters off school property. I was going to have to send an apology letter to the principal.
As soon as we were out of sight and sure we weren’t being followed, I called Darla and told her that I’d found a ride with a friend and not to worry. Then, I turned to face Kyle. “Okay, not that I’m not grateful, but I don’t understand. Usually you go out of your way to throw me to the wolves, not help me sneak past them.”
“There’s a time and a place for being in the spotlight, Val. That, back there, was not it. Though, if I’d been the guy you were rolling around in the dirt with in that picture, well, then that would have been a different story,” Kyle teased, but there was a hint of sadness behind the taunt.
“I didn’t do it!” I blurted, suddenly desperate for him to know the truth. “That picture wasn’t what it looked like! We were wearing swimsuits and our friends were right there. Zach and I didn’t—we never—”
“I know, Val,” Kyle said with a slight chuckle in his voice.
“You know? Did you already talk to Cara or something?”
“I didn’t have to,” Kyle said. “Aside from the fact that you spend a ridiculous amount of effort making sure everybody on the planet knows you’re a virgin, I happen to know from personal experience that if it’s on the cover of a tabloid it’s pure fiction.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Always.”
I was glad he understood without my having to explain. The relief that washed over me was enough to release the invisible weight that had been settled on my chest since I first discovered the story.
“Wait,” I said as something occurred to me. “So that bit about you and the entire cast of a certain reality TV show about college girls on spring break was completely fabricated? I think I just lost some respect for your reputation.”
“Okay, mostly fiction,” Kyle amended with another
laugh. “But seriously, if the tool you call your boyfriend can’t get you to do it with him, and I can’t get you to do it with me even though I write you songs, and send you flowers, and am literally this year’s Sexiest Man Alive, then there’s no way you would give it up to the douche bag who dumped you for The Biggest Skank In Orange County.”
“Very true,” I said, surprised at how easy it was for him to make me laugh in spite of all the horrible things that had happened to me today.
I felt amazingly relaxed. It was so nice to be able to just settle back comfortably against my seat and close my eyes. “So,” I said with a long contented sigh. “This year’s Sexiest Man Alive, huh? Do you get a plaque for that?”
Kyle laughed. “Sadly, no. But I did get a four-page spread. Don’t tell me you missed it.”
“Sorry. I tend to avoid all celebrity magazines like the plague. Especially the ones with your adorable face on the cover since those almost always involve me somehow.” My eyes were still closed, but I knew Kyle was frowning. I could feel it. I smiled to myself and patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it was very sexy.”
“Very.” Kyle caught my hand. “But the live version is better anyway. Why don’t you come back to my place with me and I’ll show you exactly how much.”
“Kyle, Kyle, Kyle,” I said, sighing as I shook my head. “You’re doing so well today. I like you at least eighty-five percent right now. Please don’t screw it up. I could really use the peace.”
The exaggerated breath Kyle released was half playful, half frustrated. “Fine,” he relented. “Not back to my place. Where to then?”
“If you could just take me home, I—”
“Boring,” Kyle interrupted. “You’re not ditching me to go home and sulk. Try again.”
I sighed. “I wasn’t trying to ditch you, I just don’t have time for anything else. My boss is picking me up at my house at three. We’ve got a meeting with the C&J Jewels guys at four.”
“Where is this meeting?”
“Downtown LA.”
“I’ll take you to your meeting. We’re closer to downtown now anyway. Call your boss and tell her you’ll meet her there.”
I glanced at the clock on the dash. It was only one thirty. “We’re only twenty minutes from downtown. We’d be there two hours early.”
Kyle grinned. “I know.”
“Come on,” Kyle insisted when I hesitated. “Give yourself a couple of hours to de-stress. I know a magical place we can relax for two hours and absolutely no one will recognize us.”
That sounded like heaven to me. “No one?” I asked.
Kyle grinned again. “Guaranteed.”
Kyle took me to the nearest Coco’s restaurant, and then laughed hysterically at the look on my face when I realized he was serious.
“This is your magical place where no one will recognize us?”
“Trust me,” Kyle said, still laughing. “First, we’re in Downey, not Malibu. How many people do you think are on the lookout for celebrities in Downey? Second, in a respectable establishment such as this, even the staff will be pushing seventy. Not exactly our demographic.”
His logic seemed sound, so I followed him inside.
“Well,” I said after watching Kyle rid the world of all its French toast. “You may be a rock star, but no one could ever accuse you of being a snob.”
“Much to my parents’ chagrin,” Kyle muttered with a snort.
When I gave Kyle a questioning look he shrugged. “I don’t exactly come from the wrong side of the tracks,” he said. “My parents are total country clubbers.”
Not all that surprising. Huntington Beach a far cry from being ghetto.
“They spent years trying to turn me into some violin playing, ballroom dancing, polo wearing, choir boy, but that’s just not me. Even now the idea of having to go to a restaurant where they set the table with more than one fork gives me nightmares.”
I tried to picture Kyle eating caviar and sipping red wine in a sweater vest. The image of Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman” came to mind. “So you’re saying fame and fortune are wasted on you?”
“Oh, no,” Kyle teased. “My celebrity has gone to my head in plenty of other ways.”
I laughed. “Believe me, I know.”
“You make fun, but we’ll see how Jenny-From-The-Block you are after a few years of this.”
At the reminder of why I was hiding out in a Coco’s at three thirty in the afternoon, I sunk back into my chair and sighed. Kyle seemed to understand that our little break from reality was over so he paid the check and drove me to my meeting.
“Do you ever regret becoming famous?” I asked as we exited the freeway downtown.
Kyle was quiet for a minute as if thinking very hard about his answer. I appreciated that he took my question seriously. “Everything has its ups and downs,” he finally said. “Fame is a lot harder than I expected it to be, but it’s the price I have to pay for doing what’s important to me. I don’t always like it, but I don’t regret it.”
I sighed again.
“You’ll be fine, Val. This will blow over faster than you know it.” He surprised me by reaching over the center console and taking my hand. “You’re not in it alone either, okay? Anytime you need to escape for a while, you have my number.”
I had to swallow back a lump in my throat, and managed to croak out a quiet, “Thanks.”
Kyle only responded with a smile. Neither of us said another word until we pulled up in front of the C&J Jewels outlet. I stared at the front door as reluctant to get out of the car as Kyle was to let me leave.
Kyle squeezed my hand, drawing my attention back to him. I was surprised by the concern I found in his eyes. “You going to be okay?” he asked.
I nodded, but was overcome with so much gratitude that my tears returned. “Kyle, what you did today….” My voice cracked with emotion, leaving me unable to finish my sentence. Just as well. I couldn’t think of words adequate enough.
Kyle shrugged as if to downplay the magnitude of what he’d done for me. “Don’t worry about it. I know what it’s like to be ambushed by the paparazzi.”
That didn’t seem like nearly enough. I placed my hand on his forearm and whispered in an almost pleading voice, “I mean it, Kyle. Thank you.”
Kyle stared down at my hand clutching his arm for a moment. When he met my eyes, the look that passed between us was so intense that my hand started to tremble.
“You’re welcome,” he said leaning toward me so slowly that I didn’t notice until we were just inches from one another.
His eyes dropped to my lips as he thumbed away the tears on my cheeks, and then he tilted my face up toward his.
I almost let him kiss me. I almost forgot all about my boyfriend and let Kyle Hamilton kiss me. It would have been an earth-shattering kiss too. The moment was laced with all kinds of emotion that had never been there between Kyle and me before—something far beyond lust that was begging to be acknowledged. I’d never wanted anything in my life as much as I wanted to feel that connection with him right then.
Kyle saw the conflict in my eyes and swept my bangs behind my ear. “Go ahead,” he urged me, his voice low and thick. “Lets see where it takes us.”
“I have a boyfriend,” I whispered. But I made no attempt to pull away from him.
“So?” Kyle said. “If you really loved him, we wouldn’t be here right now. It wouldn’t feel like this.”
I sucked in a breath, fighting against the pounding in my chest, and managed to sit back. “You want me to cheat?”
Kyle sat back a little too, but his eyes never left mine. “I want you to be honest with yourself,” he said. “You and I have something, and you know it.” He took my hand and threaded his fingers through mine. “I want you, Val.” He brushed his other hand over my necklace and said, “More than just this. I want a relationship. Dump the tool and go out with me.”
“Kyle—”
“We could be epic.”
We really could. I was willing to admit that much. Or, more likely, we could be an epic failure.
I opened the car door.
“Promise me you’ll at least think about it,” Kyle said as I stepped one foot out of the car.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to think about anything else, but I was still surprised when I nodded in earnest and whispered, “I’ll think about it.”
Kyle smiled and kissed my hand. “See you tomorrow after the concert. I’ll cross my fingers that you decide to show up as my date instead of with a date.”
I rolled my eyes as I pulled my hand from his and shut the car door between us, but I hardly felt confident.
I didn’t go to school the next day. I faked a migraine. Or, maybe I didn’t fake it. After being sold out to the tabloids by Zach, my breakup with Cara, and the almost-kiss with Kyle, my heart hurt so bad that I could have had a headache too and I just couldn’t tell. Either way, my sick day felt justified. My parents didn’t even question me.
I stayed in my room with the shades down all day except for the two hours in which I soaked in a nice hot bubble bath. I tried to keep busy. I had plenty of make-up school work to do since I’d missed half my classes the day before, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t help logging on to the Internet.
There was a poll that had gone viral on Facebook. Sixty-four percent of the voters believed I was telling the truth, thirty-two percent believed I was a liar, and four percent thought that poll was the stupidest thing ever to be posted on Facebook. There were over three hundred thousand voters so far. I became one of them. I voted for option three.
Then, because I apparently like to torture myself, I logged on to VIsForVirgin.com. The forum was currently gone, replaced with a note from Robin. It read:
VIsForVirgin.com is meant to be a supportive, judgment-free environment. It’s here to help people, not hurt them. Due to the amount of inappropriate, profane and hurtful responses to the outlandish accusations made in yesterday’s tabloids, the chat forums have been disabled until further notice. We apologize to all of our current members and hope to be able to fix the problem soon.
