V-Card

by Alicia Michaels

  “We can’t,” Luke replied with a shrug before filling a bowl with oatmeal from the tureen at the end of the line. “It’s like a solar eclipse or something. Admit it, Jenn, you’re looking for a guy.”

  While waiting for my omelet, I pushed my tray down the line to where the baker’s case held muffins and breads. I used a pair of plastic tongs to grab two biscuits and snag a handful of honey packets from the bin beside it. “So what if I am?” I murmured, acting like it was no big deal.

  It’s not, except for the very obvious fact that it is. The next guy I meet, smile at, or flirt with could be the guy.

  We finished going through the line and found our usual table, near a window overlooking the quad. I ate in silence while Kinsley and Christian talked about their English II professor, who they hate. Luke texted throughout most of the meal; probably some girl he’s going to meet up with later. I’ve lost track of who he’s screwing this week.

  He and I finished first and left the other two behind. Luke draped an arm over my shoulder as we walked. “Seriously,” he said after a moment of silence. “The skirt’s hot. Whoever you’re dressed up for doesn’t stand a chance.”

  And now you see why Luke is so popular with the girls. “Thanks,” I said.

  Luke kissed the top of my head and we parted ways, me heading off to World Religions, and him going to Music Theory. By the time Christian and Kinsley showed up, Professor Weinberg had already started in on Taoism. I took copious notes during class; I found the different religions and their practices pretty cool. The class was an elective I’d picked just because I needed another one for the credits, but I’d actually really gotten into it. An hour and a half later, my butt was numb from the hard, uncomfortable chair. The rest of the day passed by in a blur. After Anatomy and Physiology II was Ethics of Health Care.

  The end of my day left me tired and wishing I’d worn jeans. What had I been thinking? There are only girls in my classes, since the Nursing program is overrun with them. There were a few guys in the program, but none of them were even remotely interesting. When I got home, I found Christian on the phone, pacing our small living room with his voice raised.

  “No, Mom, I’m not seeing anybody …” I waved at him and he waved back absently, but his eyebrows were furrowed as he continued to pace. “Why can’t I just come alone without you getting all over my back?”

  I flopped down onto the couch and propped my feet up, the arches throbbing from wearing the high wedges all day.

  “I think I’m a long way from considering marriage, Mom … I didn’t come to college to find a wife, I came to get a degree and play football … Look, I have to go, I have practice … Okay, bye.”

  He hung up his cell phone and threw it. It clattered across the countertop noisily. “What’s going on?” I asked as he joined me in the living room, dropping down into Luke’s gaming chair with a sigh.

  “My mom is on my back again.”

  I’ve been roommates with Luke, Kinsley, and Christian for two years now—Chloe is new—so I know all about Christian’s rich parents and their high expectations. Christian’s father is waiting for him to stop caring about sports and change his major from Kinesiology to Law. Christian wants to be a coach, his father would prefer it if here were a lawyer, and eventually, a judge like him. His mother is hoping he’ll come home engaged to a nice girl. In her mind, ‘nice’ means Southern, white, wealthy, polite, and pretty. If she’s ready to stay home and have Christian’s babies while running charities and hosting tea parties, all the better.

  “Another party?”

  Christian nodded. “Yeah, some cocktail thing. Dad wants to show off his star football player son. Mom is hoping I show up with a pretty girl on my arm.”

  “When’s the party?”

  “Saturday night.”

  I reached for my phone and idly started playing Candy Crush. “I’ll go with you. Just tell your mom we’re dating.”

  “You?”

  I glared at him over my phone. “Yeah, me. What’s so hard to believe about that?”

  “Nothing, except you’re not my usual type.”

  “Sorry, when God was handing out blonde hair and big boobs, I was too busy in the line for brains.”

  “If you’re half as smart as you think, you’ll stay away from these people, Jenn. Rich people are boring. Their parties are boring.”

  “Fine. Go alone. Spend the night letting your mom try to set you up with all her single friends’ daughters.”

  Christian winced. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Hmmm,” I mumbled as I concentrated hard on my last couple of moves. I’d been stuck on level one twenty-five forever, and the last ten moves always screwed me up.

  “Would you really do it?”

  “Shit, I’m out of moves. I’m sorry, what?”

  “Would you really go with me to this party and pretend to be my girlfriend? You know, to keep my mom off my back. She hasn’t met you yet, so it could work.”

  I shrugged. “Get dressed up and mingle with the bluebloods? Why not, I don’t have anything better to do.” Then I remembered my sixty-day plan. “Unless a guy asks me out on a real date. Then, you’re on your own.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think we need to worry about that.”

  Christian ran as I chucked a couch cushion at him. His laughter faded as he retreated up the stairs to his room to change for football practice. Once he was gone, I idly thought over the contents of my closet. I didn’t have anything near fancy enough for one of Christian’s parents’ parties. I was going to have to raid Chloe’s closet.

  Chapter 2

  Day 4

  “What do you think?”

  I turned to face Kinsley and Chloe, who were both lounging on Kinsley’s bed. Chloe’s bed was covered in clothes. We’d been trying on dresses for an hour and I still didn’t have anything to wear to Christian’s party.

  We were leaving in an hour.

  My hair was in hot curlers and my makeup was done. All that was left to do was find the right dress.

  “Too formal,” Chloe said, wrinkling her nose. Her bone-straight, blonde hair moved like a silk curtain as she stood and grabbed another dress from her bed. This had to be the twentieth one I’d tried on. “This one’s you,” she said, tossing it at me.

  I caught it with one hand while unzipping the dress I was wearing with the other. Chloe was right; the floor-length, halter-neck gown was more fitting for a prom than a cocktail party. I traded it for a strapless, plum dress that hugged my body in all the right places, and hit right above the knee.

  Kinsley smiled. “That’s the one. Hot mama!”

  I smiled and gave a little twirl, showing off the dress. “It is adorable. Thanks for letting me borrow it, Chloe.”

  Chloe shrugged. “You can keep it.” She’s always so nonchalant about clothes. They are taking over the room, spilling out of the closet, her dresser drawers, even hung on lamps and the back of her desk chair.

  “You should open a boutique, Chloe,” Kinsley said as she rifled through the closet. Her voice was muffled as she went deeper into the abyss.

  “Careful, you may get lost,” I teased as I started removing the hot curlers from my hair. “We’d never find you in there.”

  Chloe rolled her eyes. “You guys are so not funny. What you are, is a couple of haters.”

  I turned to face Chloe, one hand on my hip. “Yeah, I’m so jealous of your beautiful clothes, your long legs, and your perfect hair and model’s body. Bitch, please.”

  Chloe laughed. It was nice that she had a sense of humor, since Kinsley and I never stop laughing together. While Kinsley and I were definitely besties, Chloe was becoming close to us. Our duo was now a trio.

  “Not everyone can be fabulous,” she said, coming up off the bed. “But at least for one night, you’ll come pretty close.”

  “Why you even hang out with us is beyond me,” I muttered. “Shouldn’t you be sipping martinis on a yacht with the rest of the Rich Girl’s Club?�
��

  Chloe made a face. “Because it burns my parents up that I’m living here instead of a loft in New York or something.” She grinned. “And if it makes them mad, it makes me happy. Besides, you two are tragic. Someone around here has to bring a little culture and style into the mix.”

  Chloe talks a good game, but we all know she loves living here. Before she moved in with us, her parents had put her up in a place off campus. She’d found our flyer on a bulletin board on campus when we began our search for a fifth roommate to help bring down our rent costs. When Chloe first showed up with her Louis Vuitton luggage and snooty attitude, we weren’t sure it was going to work. A semester later, and she’d proven us wrong. Anyone who knew Chloe long enough could discover that she was a really sweet girl deep down.

  Kinsley came from the closet, holding up a pair of black pumps with pointy toes and big bows decorating the back. “You have to wear these,” she said to me. “They go perfect with that dress.”

  My mouth fell open as Kinsley shoved the shoes toward me. I turned them over to inspect the red sole. “Kinsley, these are Louboutins!”

  Chloe elbowed her way between us and snatched the shoes from my hands. “Yeah, so not happening.”

  Kinsley grabbed at the shoes, but Chloe held on. “Oh come on!” Kinsley said. “They’re just shoes.”

  Chloe gasped as if Kinsley had just slapped her. “Just shoes? Louboutins are not just shoes! That’s like saying Michelangelo was just a painter. Or that the Super Bowl is just a football game. Or that Steve Jobs was just some tech guy!”

  “Okay, we get it,” I said. “I’ll just wear my own shoes.”

  “Not with my dress you’re not,” Chloe protested. “I will not let you leave here in those hideous orthopedics you call shoes.”

  Ouch. That one kinda hurt. I’m not a diva like Chloe, but I have good enough taste. My black pumps aren’t Louboutins, but they’re nice and they’d do. Chloe shoved the shoes at me.

  “Put them on,” she said. “Carefully!”

  I slid them on and grew four inches. My legs wobbled a bit as I came upright, but I balanced myself before eating the carpet.

  “So cute!” Kinsley gushed.

  Chloe appeared in front of me, holding a stack of magazines. “Put your hand on them.”

  Jennifer Lawrence stared up at me from the cover of Vogue. I raised my eyebrows. “Seriously? A stack of Vogue magazines?”

  Chloe squared her shoulders. “My bible,” she said. “Put your hand on it now, Jenn, or you’re not leaving here wearing my Louboutins.”

  With a huff, I put my hand on the magazines. Kinsley snickered; Chloe shot her a dirty look.

  “Repeat after me,” she said. “I, Jennifer Nolan, do swear on this stack of Vogues that I will not scuff, scratch, or scrape Chloe’s Louboutin pumps. If I do, she will make me work the street corner to earn the money to pay for them. So help me, God.” I repeated Chloe’s statement with a straight face, but Kinsley was practically choking on laughter behind her back. Nodding, Chloe threw her magazines back onto her bed. “You’re good to go. Too bad you’re wasting this on Christian instead of a real date.”

  Tell me about it, Chloe. Here we are on day four and I still haven’t met anybody. Still, I’ve been spending all my time on campus—going to class, studying, hanging with the girls. Going to the party dressed like this might put me in the path of some cute guys. If nothing else, I can improve by balance by spending the night trying not to break my neck in Chloe’s shoes.

  A knock sounded at the door. I reached for my little silver, beaded clutch and slipped my cellphone and wallet inside. Chloe nodded in approval, so I guess it was a good choice with the dress. Kinsley swung the door open to reveal Luke on the other side.

  “Christian went to get the car,” he said. “He’ll be pulling up out front any second. Oh, Kinsley, Mr. Wonderful is here.”

  Kinsley jumped up at that and raced past Luke and down the stairs. I could hear her squeal and jump into her boyfriend, Aaron’s, arms.

  “Ugh, gag,” Chloe mumbled as she shoved the clothes littering her bed aside and laid across the mattress. Reaching for the container of assorted nail polish on her nightstand, she went about choosing a color and forgot all about me and Luke.

  His eyebrows shot up as he noticed my getup. “Wow,” he said. “You look … stunning.”

  I ran a hand through my hair, which was now falling in soft waves thanks to the curlers. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

  Luke flashed that boyish grin. “I think it’s just right. Too bad you’re wasting it on Christian.”

  “That’s what Chloe said.”

  Luke snorted. “Yeah, we’ve all been living together too long.”

  A horn beeped outside—Christian pulling up out front. “Geesh, whatever happened to coming to the door for your date?” I grumbled as I passed through the doorway and into the hall. Luke followed, his hand resting on the small of my back. Kinsley and Aaron were snuggling on the couch and oblivious to everything else, so I didn’t bother to say good-bye.

  “Fake date, no chivalry.”

  “Still, I’m doing him a favor.”

  I reached for the door, but his arm brushed mine as he stretched it out to grasp the knob before me. He swung it open and offered me the crook of his arm. “Milady,” he said in a terrible British accent. “Thou chariot awaiteth.”

  Taking his arm, I giggled and let him lead me out into the front yard. “Awaiteth is not a word.”

  “It is tonight,” he said as we walked down the front steps, steadying me as I wobbled on Chloe’s heels. “Are you going to make it through the party on those stilts?”

  I gritted my teeth and forced myself to walk with grace and a slight swing of the hips. I was not going to fall in these heels, I wasn’t! “How hard can it be?”

  Considering that the only heels I’m comfortable in are wedges—and even then only moderately so—it was going to be a taller order than I let on.

  Christian hung his head out the window of his black Audi as we approached the curb and whistled.

  “Right?” Luke agreed. “She almost looks hot.”

  I elbowed him in the ribs and he doubled over. “Jerk.”

  “Have fun, kids,” he said, still clutching his middle as Christian got out to open the passenger door for me. “Chris, have her back by midnight or you’ll turn into a pumpkin.”

  We both waved good-bye before Christian peeled off from the curb. Fallout Boy blasted through the speakers as he merged onto I-35. The night was coming alive, and soon downtown would be clogged with students headed to 6th Street to blow off a little steam. We bypassed downtown and headed west, putting the bustling city behind us. Half an hour later, we arrived in what I think is the most beautiful part of Austin. If you live downtown, you could never know Austin could be so green or scenic. With the sun setting, the rocky ledges on either side of us were glowing red and orange, kissed by a pink glow. Then we came out into the neighborhood Christian had grown up in. The houses sprawled on large plots of land, with the lake running behind them. Boats floated in boat garages and docks jutted out from people’s backyards. As we drove down the winding road and descended into Rich-ville, Christian turned to me.

  “Thanks for doing this. I’d have asked Chloe, but …”

  He trailed off and I nodded in understanding. Chloe didn’t have the tact to deal with Christian’s mother; she was too outspoken. I was perfect for Christian’s fake girlfriend: pretty, but not too pretty; outgoing, but not outspoken; smart, but not a know-it-all.

  “It’s cool,” I said as he pulled into his parents’ circular drive. Their three-story, white stone house loomed over us. Solar lights glowed as darkness came, showing off the impeccable landscaping. As we got out of the car, a man in a red jacket came forward and took Christian’s keys. I realized there were several other guys like him lining the circular drive as more guests pulled in behind us. Christian gave me his arm, leading me to a stone path winding around the sid
e of the house.

  We followed soft music and the hum of voices. It led us to the Carvers’ large, covered deck. Lanterns glowed beneath the awning, causing polished silver utensils to gleam. A buffet table was set along one side, filled with tiny appetizers with French names probably too long and complicated for me to pronounce. A bartender in a black vest and bowtie stood behind a marble countertop, serving drinks. Girls in white shirts and black skirts walked the crowd with more tiny delicacies. A small Jazz band took up one corner of the deck. The guests mingled at tall, round cocktail tables, drinks in hand. Most of the people were friends of his parents, though I could see some of them had brought their children, who were all near college age. Most of the younger crowd had walked down close to the water, taking the stairs from the deck to the dock where a speedboat bobbed in the lake.

  “Close your mouth,” Christian whispered as I stared at my surroundings. I snapped my mouth shut—I hadn’t even realized I was gaping. “The key is to pretend that you’re bored,” he said. “Like none of this impresses you.”

  “These people aren’t bored,” I hissed in his ear. “They’re just expressionless from all of the Botox.”

  “Christian, darling!”

  That voice put an end to our whispered conversation. I plastered a smile on my face as Christian’s mom descended on us. Dressed in demure navy blue, her hair in an elegant updo, Mrs. Carver didn’t seem at all imposing. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss her son on the cheek before turning to inspect me.

  “Hi, Mom,” Christian said, jerking uncomfortably at the collar of his black dress shirt.

  “Christian, you didn’t tell me you were bringing someone!” Her smile grew wide, but her eyes were sharp and assessing as she looked me over from head to toe. “Introduce me to your lovely friend!”

  “This is Jennifer,” he said. “My girlfriend. Jennifer, this is my mom.”

  Her eyes lit up at the word girlfriend, and I assumed she approved of what she saw. She reached for me like I was a long lost relative and hugged me to her chest. She was short and petite, causing me to have to bend to hug her back and almost do a face plant in Chloe’s shoes. Silver bracelets jangled on her wrist as she patted my back.