White is for Virgins

by Necks, S. Eva

  I pointed to the phone, not even caring if he was listening or not.

  “When we get phone calls, you pick up and say something along the lines of ‘Hello, this is the Hartford American Red Cross center, this is,” I cleared my throat, “Fox. How can I be of service?’ and then you listen to them – be as nice as possible. If they want to talk to Nina, just transfer with this red button,” I blurted, surprised at how fast I was talking.

  I exhaled quietly, and dared to turn around to face him.

  He was on the other side of the counter, leaning in on his elbows.

  “So, you’re the new girl, right?” he asked, biting his lip and raising one of his eyebrows.

  He was studying me, intensely. I felt my cheeks heat up but glared at him anyway.

  “I’m not gonna repeat myself, so you better have gotten all of that,” I warned him, turning back to my SAT list.

  “You’re working on that shit already?” he asked, eyeing my paper looking confused. He disapproved.

  “Yes, this… shit is due Friday,” I scowled, trying to study whatever words I’d managed to define.

  “I thought it was due –” he started, but I cut him off.

  “Well she changed the due date, you weren’t in class today,” I said, keeping my eyes on the paper.

  “Chill out, Em,” he smirked with his hands up in mock-surrender.

  What makes him think he can call me ‘Em’?

  My head shot up, and my eyes met his.

  “Why are you here?” I asked him, trying to change the subject.

  “Volunteer work,” he said obviously, his smirk dying down.

  “Who are you trying to fool?” This time I smirked, “Volunteer work? No offense, but you don’t look like the type that gives a crap.”

  He maintained a placid expression, leaving me with nothing to work with.

  “How can you be so sure? I’m big on world peace,” he said with mock-sincerity, placing a large, delicate hand to his chest.

  Was it bad that I like his hands? They were nice - big and tan, with long delicate fingers. It was a shame such masterpieces were wasted on someone like him.

  I averted my gaze back to his face.

  “The closest thing to world peace that you’d enjoy is watching the Miss America pageant, during the swimsuit segment,” I muttered. “News in the girl’s bathroom travels fast.”

  “Oh, so you were interested in my whereabouts?” He flashed a cocky grin.

  “Not even close. I thought they were talking about some wild animal when Teresa dished on the dirty details of Lauren’s party. Turns out I was right,” I said, immediately wishing I hadn’t.

  See, in my mind, it had sounded like a good comeback. But saying that to a person like Fox, who had enough ego as he did testosterone, was a serious miscalculation on my part.

  His cocky grin only increased in size at my comment.

  “Well, I am pretty wild,” he admitted.

  “That wasn’t a compliment.”

  “I believe it was.”

  “You’re unbelievable,” I sighed, shaking my head.

  “Why, thank you. I’m sure you’re not too bad yourself.”

  “You’re a pig.”

  “You’re just tense, I can fix that,” he suggested, stepping closer to me.

  “Tempting…” I said in evident disgust, “But I’ll happily pass.”

  I swung my backpack over my shoulder and speed-walked my way toward the front door.

  “Maybe next time,” He laughed, hopping over the counter.

  “Not even in your dreams,” I shuddered.

  I was very, very grateful that Nina had suggested working at the daycare; it definitely had its perks. For example, it offered me an excuse to leave!

  Chapter 3

  I was freaking out by the time I walked into Mrs. Sawyer’s classroom. I’d somehow lost my SAT list.

  It was not in my nature to lose things, so naturally I was freaking out. I was running my hands through my hair before class started, trying to think where it could’ve been. I’d already called Nina that morning, but she said it wasn’t anywhere in sight.

  My heart started racing as I made a terrifying discovery.

  I’m going to have to ask her for a new one… She’ll think I’m irresponsible, embarrass me in front of class, and give me a whole lecture about taking care of important papers. She probably won’t even give me another copy!

  Maybe I’d just have to beg someone to make me a copy. I’d have to redefine and study them like crazy once I got back from the daycare at seven.

  I pondered asking Fox for his; he should’ve still had it. Knowing him, he’d probably ask for sexual favors in return. I shuddered.

  I turned around in my seat and found him staring at me.

  “Good morning, Ms. Price,” he smiled slyly.

  “Have you seen my SAT paper?” I snapped.

  I skipped all that ‘good morning’ crap, cutting right to the chase.

  He noticed.

  Leaning toward me, elbows propped on his desk, he smirked. “Is that anyway to greet someone, Em?”

  “Stop calling me Em, this is important,” I told him.

  He simply sat there. His expression said it all. He knew where my paper was, and he knew it meant a lot to me.

  “God, Fox! You have it, don’t you?” I concluded.

  The grin on his face proved me right.

  “You better give it back. I worked too damn hard on that list,” I warned him, narrowing my eyes.

  “Or you’ll what, Em? Tell Sawyer on me?” he teased.

  I considered that for a split second.

  What is this, second grade?

  “You suck!” I growled.

  Evidently it is.

  “No Em, that’s your job,” he whispered in my ear before class commenced.

  I gasped at his repulsive comment.

  I tried to maintain my fury as Mrs. Sawyer began class, but for the entire three-hour duration, all I could think about was how to get my paper back.

  ***

  After class, I got up from my seat slowly, hoping maybe he’d come to me; maybe he felt some sort of remorse. But as I casually tucked my hair behind my ear and sneaked a glance to my right, I found he was gone.

  I strolled out of class, disappointed, distraught, but mainly pissed off. Who did he think he was? Thinking he could just take my work and put his name on it?

  A soft sound made its way to my ears as the hallways cleared out and I was a few yards away from Mr. Aurelle’s room. I turned around to find Fox, leaning lazily against the wall, strumming his black, glistening acoustic.

  He stood there, staring at me intently.

  “I have a proposition for you, Ms. Price,” he said, anticipating my reaction.

  ‘Of course you do,’ I almost blurted.

  I called it.

  “Well, Mr. Evans, I don’t negotiate with terrorists,” I replied, surprising myself with how well I kept a straight face.

  I turned on my heel and headed for the kitchen, where I spent another agonizing three hours…

  Normally, I wouldn’t have been in such a rush to get to the center, but out of desperation to get my sheet back, I paced myself. Despite saying I wasn’t interested in his proposition, I wanted my work back.

  I walked into the building, finding no one behind the counter.

  I found a note taped to the desk from Nina, saying that Carlos was stocking the storage room and that she needed to run to the hospital because she wanted to set up a blood drive. Deciding to pass the time, I turned on iTunes and pressed the shuffle button, hoping I’d get a song I liked, and not one of Nina’s trumpety salsa songs.

  I got lucky, singing along and swaying my hips about.

  I heard clapping behind me, slowly turning my head to face my audience.

  Please be Nina, please be Nina, please be Nina...

  Fox stood there, with his hair damp and sticking to his forehead and his chest shiny with sweat beneath
his American Red Cross shirt.

  “Nice voice.” He winked at me as he walked toward the counter. Setting his backpack on the granite, he reached in and pulled out a water bottle.

  “Nice shorts,” I scowled, glaring at him. They were unusually tight. He took a few long, leisurely gulps of his water.

  “I knew you’d like them.”

  “They’re not uniform policy.”

  “Nina approved,” he shrugged.

  “I highly doubt that.”

  “Well she did, since I have to be here at four, Coach said I have to stay active and work as hard as I do at practice,” he explained, actually serious.

  “Coach?”

  He nodded, and when I gave him a quizzical look, he added, “I run track.”

  Of course.

  My mouth formed in the shape of an O and then I walked back to computer. He hopped onto the counter, making himself comfortable.

  “So. Where’s my list?” I muttered as nonchalantly as possible, closing iTunes and turning to look at him.

  “What list?” he asked, feigning innocence.

  “Oh, puh-lease,” I rolled my eyes, “This is the last time I’m gonna ask.”

  “Good, it’s getting annoying,” he sighed.

  I shoved him off the counter and he smirked, “You called me a terrorist! And now you want it back?”

  “Yeah, you’re holding my paper hostage, and I can guarantee nothing bad will happen to you if you just hand it over. Now,” I emphasized the last word, as my patience wearing thin.

  “You gonna use force, Em?” he asked, smiling devilishly as he stepped closer to me.

  “You are such a pig.”

  “The accepted vernacular is Fox, babe,” he laughed.

  I rolled my eyes and threw my hands up in the air in defeat.

  It had to come to this…

  He walked over to me, and then I saw it. My chance!

  I caught him off guard and ran for his backpack, snatching it off the counter and running for the girl’s bathroom.

  He caught up fast, though. He was right on my heels, and my heart was racing as I slipped into the safety of the bathroom. I placed the backpack on the sink and opened it up. The sound of the swinging door made me jump.

  “This is the little girl’s room, you pervert,” I stated, trying to stall him as I rummaged through the contents of his bag.

  “You stole my bag, this is an exception,” he countered as he stepped into the bathroom fully, clearly ignoring my comment.

  The door closed behind him, and my heart skipped a beat.

  Awkward.

  “Yeah, well you stole my paper first,” I murmured, afraid of the sudden flicker of excitement in his emerald eyes.

  I risked breaking eye contact to look through the bag again, and from the corner of my eye I saw him take another step toward me.

  I found my paper and whipped it out, letting his backpack fall on the floor. As he shook his head and slowly bent down to pick it up, I jumped over him and ran for the door.

  “I didn’t realize we were playing leap frog,” he smirked, running after me again.

  “I see you too are getting along,” Nina noted happily, walking through the doors toward her office.

  Both Fox and I stopped running and I turned to face him, trying to slow my breathing.

  “You put me through hell for this,” I said, holding up the paper, “Why?”

  He smirked. Again. “Simply for the thrill of it.”

  I shook my head and went over to my backpack, folding the precious list and putting it into the front pocket.

  “Actually, Em, I still have that proposition,” he said behind me, and my whole body tensed up. He was behind me, and we were both behind the counter. I was trapped, unless I tried to hop over it again. After considering that idea I concluded I would most likely knock something over and Nina would come and catch me. I couldn’t risk that.

  I stayed facing the computer, pretending to busy myself.

  “You gonna say it anytime soon, or…?” I prodded, acting uninterested.

  He paused.

  “Well, I stole your paper because, besides the fact that you forgot it and had most of it done, I knew you were… well, a nerd,” he started.

  Ahh, he certainly has a way with words. Doesn’t he?

  “Your point?” I muttered.

  “Tutor me.”

  I suppressed my laughter, resulting in a really unattractive snorting type of sound. I turned around to face him, and found that his cocky smirk has been replaced with a slight frown. I feared he was serious.

  “You’re serious?” I asked in disbelief.

  He nodded, a bit sheepishly at that.

  “Why? I mean, they put you in that class, but you need help?”

  “They only put me in that class because I’m good in music and comp, and I need to ‘enhance my vocabulary’ to not only write better lyrics, but pass the SATs,” he muttered, running a hand through his white blonde hair.

  “Oh,” came my brilliant reply.

  We stood there in silence, and I was really starting to get uncomfortable.

  “So…?” he asked, rushing my answer.

  “So… you were going to blackmail me? Tutor you or possibly fail the exam?” I tested him.

  “Well,” he started, caught off guard.

  I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms.

  “Yeah, actually, I was,” he said, surprising me with his honesty.

  “I’ll tutor you. Mondays and Tuesdays,” I huffed, “But if you ever steal anything of mine again or not take this seriously, I will not only ignore you, but I will ruin you,” I cautioned, surprised at the confidence and power in my voice.

  “Ruin me?” he smirked, “What are you gonna do?”

  I shrugged. Good question.

  “I’ll tell all the girls that you have genital herpes,” I decided, batting my eyelashes, “I’ll think of something. You’re in no position to be challenging me right now, dude.”

  He stood there, studying my gaze.