White is for Virgins (20 page)

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Authors: S. Eva Necks

BOOK: White is for Virgins
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“Nina,” I sang, dropping my bag behind the counter on my way to her office.

 

 

I stopped in the doorway.

 

 

“Hey,
Em,” she smiled, taking a sip of her
water.

 

 

I eye her beverage preference strangely.

 

 

“Where’s the Ice Coffee you can’t live without?” I asked her, leaning against the door frame.

 

 

“That cake made me gain a size,” she explained, “So I’m
gonna have to suffer for a bit.”

 

 

I doubt she’d last, but then again, Nina was unpredictable.

 

 

“Well, good luck,” I smirked, “And sorry about the cake.”

 

 

“Eh, no harm done,” she laughed, pulling out a packet of Crystal Light drink mix.

 

 

She winked at me as she shook the pink water around and then took another sip.

 

 


Ahh, much better,” she sighed.

 

 

I laughed and turned back to the counter.

 

 

Right on cue, he came into the picture. And by ‘he’ I meant, the one and only, Fox Evans.

 

 

He slowed his breathing and ran a hand through his mop of white blonde hair before he caught me staring at him. Returning the glare, his face was expressionless. And it stayed that way. His dark emerald eyes pierced mine, and the gold flecks within them were blazing.

 

 

I decided in that moment that irresistibly and uncontrollably and obliviously-super-attractive people bothered me.

 

 

My neck was suddenly stiff, but I managed to turn it without using both of my hands for assistance.

 

 

It didn’t take long for me to notice things were awkward. The silence was a dead giveaway.

 

 

“Fox! Emery!” Nina called from her office.

 

 

I practically ran at the thought of getting away from him, but he followed close behind.

 

 

“I want you two to blow up the blowup dolls that just came in. The pump’s been misplaced,” she said adding another pack of pink powder into her water bottle. The woman loved her sugar.

 

 

“Ok,” I nodded nervously. Fox and I went to storage and we each picked up a pack, unsealing it and unfolding the rubber doll.

 

 

I had a feeling I’ll be lightheaded after all of this.

 

 

I took a seat on the dusty linoleum floor and began blowing up the first of the dolls. Fox sat down too – across from me. As I inhaled through my nose, Fox exhaled from his mouth into his doll. We grew awkwardly in sync. Every time I looked over at him I caught his gaze.

 

 

Why was he looking at me?

 

 

After a few moments of playing eye tag, I cracked.

 

 

“What?” I asked.

 

 

Way to go Em… graceful way to start a conversation.

 

 

“What?” he repeated, confused.

 

 

“Why do you keep looking at me?” I reiterated.

 

 

“Because you keep looking at me,” he shrugged, blowing into the doll again. His cheeks puffed up a bit and he looked up at me, his emerald eyes guarded by his light wisps of hair.

 

 

“Do not,” I muttered, blowing into the doll once more.

 

 

“Do too,” he said between blows.

 

 

“Do not,” I said rolling my eyes.

 

 

“Do. Too.”

 

 

“You’re so immature,” I stated.

 

 

A sly smile made its way across his pale, pink lips.

 

 

“I’m immature?” he smirked.

 

 

“Did I stutter?” I challenged.

 

 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Emery, Emery, Emery,” he sighed, “You’re so easy.”

 

 

“I am not!” I protested.

 

 

He chuckled again, “I meant it’s easy to set you off.”

 

 

I blushed, feeling dumb for jumping to conclusions yet again. He’s making a fool out of me!

 

 

“Why do you love fighting with me so much?” I asked him curiously.

 

 

He waited for a bit, probably piecing together another smartass reply.

 

 

“Are you saying you don’t enjoy fighting with me, Em?” He smiled, arching an eyebrow.

 

 

I try not to grin, though I found his contagious.

 

 

“It’s infuriating,” I muttered before puffing a few quick blows and finishing the first doll.

 

 

“But you like it,” he said knowingly, angling his jaw. We both capped the holes of the inflated dolls and set them aside; grabbing another sealed package.

 

 

“All this blowing is making me dizzy,” I sighed, looking at a new rubber person.

 

 

Fox started laughing. It was a hearty, warm, contagious kind of laugh – one that brought an intriguing smile out of anyone within his vicinity.

 

 

“Oh, God,” I sighed, dropping my flushed face into my hands after a quick recap.

 

 

“I love your choice of words,” he smirked, getting to work on his doll.

 

 

“Shut up,” I scowled, kicking him on the side of the knee, “Pervert.”

 

 

“Hey!” he smirked inching away from me.

 

 

We continued blowing up our dolls, competing in a silent race.

 

 

He was beating me, probably because he had a larger lung capacity – a totally unfair advantage.

 

 

“I’m blowing way faster than you.” He squeezed in the comment between puffs.

 

 

“It’s not about speed, it’s about quality,” I say arrogantly, immediately regretting my haughty reaction.

 

 

“And you have yet to master either one,” he observed, anticipating my reaction.

 

 

“And you’ve clearly mastered both,” I complimented teasingly. “Congratulations, Fox, you’re an inspiration in the art of blowing.”

 

 

That shut him up, and I ended up finishing my doll before he inflated his.

 

 

“You let me win,” I muttered, snatching the doll out of his hands and gathering up the other ones.

 

 

“Still feisty,” he murmured. We shoved the dolls against the wall in the back of the small supply room and I dusted off my butt. My skinny jeans were probably coated with dirt.

 

 

I felt a hand against my lower back, and jumped as it grazed my butt quickly.

 

 

“What the hell?” I shrieked, turning to eye Fox.
Creep just fondled me!

 

 

“You missed a spot,” he said innocently. He walked around me and opened the door, gesturing for me to exit.

 

 

I didn’t trust him, especially behind me.

 

 

I glared at him for a moment, feeling the heat escape my body. But heat rises, and therefore most of my fury appeared in a deep pink hue against my cheeks.

 

 

“Ladies first,” I said, refusing to move until he went first.

 

 

“Wow,
Em,” he smirked, “You really out-did yourself with that one.”

 

 

“And you’ve just managed to stoop lower,” I said under my breath, though I was sure he heard me.

 

 

Since Nina had no other work for us to do, we sat around for a bit. I pondered going home.

 

 

“So, I thought you should know we have a quiz in history coming up,” Fox started, spreading himself out across the couch in the lobby.

 

 

I looked down at the ground, remembering I’d skipped history. I also remembered why I’d skipped, and part of the reason was sitting comfortably right across from me.

 

 

“Right,” I finally said. “I’m assuming you want me to help you study.”

 

 

He stared at me sheepishly, and I pulled my book from my backpack.

 

 

Much to my surprise, he knew a good half of the material. He wasn’t as opposed to studying as before; he wasn’t procrastinating. He paid attention and was sincerely trying to remember events.

 

 

What is with him…?

 

 

“What?” he asked for the fourth time as we packed up our backpacks.

 

 

“You didn’t fight the knowledge,” I snorted.

 

 

“Is it really that shocking?” he asked as we walked together to his car.

 

 

“Kinda, yeah.”

 

 

“Well, don’t get too adjusted,” he winked at me as he eased into his Lamborghini.

 

 

“I’ll try,” I muttered to myself as I turned in the direction of home.

 

 

Seeing this side of Fox made me nervous, because it classified him as a human being; an actual person – an attractive person – with talent and agility. I was so used to disagreeing with him and countering his every word that the thought of us actually
getting along
petrified me. That was unknown territory. That was a new, undiscovered continent. And no way in hell was I in the mood to play ‘explorer’.

 

 

***

 

 

I closed the back door behind me and kicked my shoes off. They collided with a pair of black stilettos and the
clunk!
proved an unexpected sound.

 

 

The smell of Portobello mushrooms wafted through my nostrils as I stepped cautiously into the kitchen. A short woman with blonde curls that settled just below her shoulders stood before the stove, stirring the contents of a small pot.

 

 

“Mom?” I mustered, narrowing my eyes as I stepped closer.

 

 

She turned her head, acknowledging me with a short smile before turning back to… dinner, I guess.

 

 

“What are you doing home?” I asked suddenly.

 

 

“Where’s your father?” she asked at the same time.

 

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