by Mya Robarts
Olmo pretends to shoot a gun. “Did you hear the shots? It was so exciting!”
Azzy and I exchange knowing looks. Olmo’s delusions make him see war as a game. Perhaps his XY chromosomes make him see weapons as toys.
“You were outside, weren’t you?” Azzy asks, tossing her light brown hair out of her face.
“I didn’t want to interrupt homeschooling,” I lie. Dad insists that my siblings get an education. I’d rather they get a gun.
“Are you hungry, Lila?” asks Olmo sweetly. “Oh! Your clothes are wet.”
Dad moves the cart that has replaced his legs toward me. He has an illegal object in his hands: a solar reader. If soldiers discover it during their usual checks, they’ll execute him. “Lila, the Accord cops arrived today,” Dad says.
I blush, remembering my naked opponent. “I’ve noticed.”
“They’re younger this year, so try not to catch their attention.”
Too late. My bare butt on the face of one of them makes me more than noticeable.
“Perhaps it’s time for you to take my pills,” says Dad.
I look at him warily. Does Dad suspect what I’m up to? But his eyes show only the pride of a scientific experiment gone well. “I finally made my pills and creams work. Safely,” he says.
Dad and his scientific compulsion. He’s been working to extract ingredients from plants to create two kinds of anti-recruitment pills. One pill numbs your body. If you also put the medicated cream in your most private parts, you’ll get two bonuses: desensitization and lubrication. You won’t feel the complete pain of soldiers forcing themselves inside you. The other pill is a contraceptive. He doesn’t know it, but even before Dad confirmed that they were safe, I’ve been taking those pills.
“We’ll get more money selling the pills than we will from your salary, so why don’t you quit your job?” he asks. Dad’s hopeful face breaks my heart. “Besides, the Accord Unit will open the clinic soon and pay me a doctor’s salary.”
I shake my head. Leave it to Dr. Velez to expect a positive change in our lives. My dad, the eternal optimist. I’m sure the Patriots will send their own staff rather than hire my dad. Soldiers and Starvillers call on my dad’s medical services only in extreme circumstances.
“People won’t buy anything from us. I’ll keep my Shiloh job,” I say, searching for something to eat.
Dad drops the subject and resumes his lesson. “The troops got out of control, but the Patriot government wouldn’t risk losing the support of the soldiers, so they created the visitants service—people on the government payroll to attend the troops.”
The apartment is small, and I’m forced to participate in the lesson. Olmo and Dad have their cots in the room that we use to cook and eat.
“It was controlled: medical checks, STD vaccination, and birth control. Rates of rape went down drastically.”
Azzy yawns. We never pay attention to Dad’s history lessons, but his biology lessons are great. Olmo hums happily, and I make appreciative sounds while eating carrots and a soy steak—no doubt a piece Dad denied himself so that I could eat.
“Religious groups protested. They didn’t want their tax money spent on prostitution, so the Patriot government decided that the defeated Nats would provide this service. Therefore—”
“Yeah. We know how things turned out,” says Azalea, looking in my direction.
I hate that my dad’s talking about this while I’m eating, especially since there’s so little to eat.
Losing weight before recruitment may help, so I save some carrots for later. From the last recruitment ceremony to this moment, I’ve blossomed. My new womanly form isn’t as attractively voluptuous as Elena’s, but the soldiers might find it appealing.
Dad—finally!—wraps up his lesson and prepares to leave. He has house calls in the afternoons, or so he claims. In reality, Dad’s job is to wait in line at the rationing board office to bring us food. The way he says goodbye to my brother reaffirms that he’s my dad’s favorite. Olmo is even bitchy Azalea’s favorite.
Azalea looks a lot like me. As her green eyes scan my face, I squirm. My sister has developed acute observation skills and knows all about my plans. She blocks me as I approach our shared room, brandishing a carrot. “Why don’t you put this inside you and get it over with?”
I sigh. I gave Elena Rivers a display of my patience not long ago. A family member deserves at least the same.
“It’d be easier than trying to seduce Rey,” Azzy says. “He can have any girl he wants, but he keeps saying no, even to Elena. What makes you think he’d say yes to you?”
“Mind your own business, Azalea.” She knows troops prefer V-girls, so she should be more supportive.
“What difference would it make? You don’t want to be recruited as a virgin, right?”
I cringe at the insult. Everything you say—and even what you don’t say—to Azalea can be used against you.
Her smile becomes a sneer. “You’re wasting your time trying to make your first time memorable. You won’t enjoy sex unless you can get into a romantic scenario.”
“I’m not romantic.”
“No? Haven’t you always wanted what Mom and Dad had? Then get married? And reproduce like a bunny?”
“That was before that day.”
Azzy frowns. She knows what day I’m talking about. Since that day, I’ve shuddered at the idea of love. Troops will hurt who and what I love the most. Deep down, I crave love so much it hurts, but love and marriage are out of the question until the end of the war, or I’ll end up as broken as my father’s legs. As broken as his heart.
If things were different, I would wait until I found …
I shake my head. What’s the point of wishing for what you can’t have? I can at least get lust, affection, and—most important—mutual consent.
Azzy’s green eyes look through me. “So you’re gonna go all the way to avoid falling for someone? You think having sex will help?”
I try to pass her. “Not really. There aren’t enough men, and the good ones are taken.”
“You didn’t even share your plans with Rey, did you? Are you planning to get him drunk?”
I shake my head. If I give him time to think about it, he won’t do it. I have to surprise him and appeal to his physiological needs. It’s been a while since Angie broke their engagement. I can’t imagine Joey going a year without sex with Divine. Rey must need sex right now.
I shrug. “Who knows? Surprise could be the greatest aphrodisiac.”
“Not for Rey,” Azzy retorts. “He hasn’t been well since Angie—”
I ignore her as she tries to talk me out of my plans. Until my patience wears thin. I snap my fingers, and Poncho grinds against Azzy’s leg.
Azzy is unfazed. She escapes Poncho’s frenzy with dignity. I take advantage of the distraction and enter our room.
I peel off my wet clothes and take a long moment to stare at my naked figure in the mirror. My skin is uneven, tanned on my arms and face and pale everywhere else, except for the soft pink of my breasts. Despite the training and limited diet, there’s unwelcome flesh in parts of my body where fat doesn’t look good. At least I look well-shaved.
I remember the way the Accord cop caressed my skin with his eyes. I never thought eyes could touch me that way. My hands slide over my body, repeating what his eyes did. I’ve seen penises before, but never one so close or so ready. Such a strong, powerful man, and still he seemed affected by me. I’m used to seeing only contempt when boys look my way. Rey has never looked at me with desire in his eyes. We care for each other, but I don’t think either of us wants, at the moment, the complication of love.
I search in my box of treasures—the box where I keep my mom’s clothes and pictures. Her old school uniform will have to do because I don’t have any sexy clothes. Most girls my age bind their chests with bandages and wear long cloaks, in part due to the unpredictability of the weather, but also to prevent provoking others with their bodies. It doesn�
�t always work. Rey’s ex-fiancée tried to avoid recruitment by hiding her beauty and getting a marriage tattoo, but soldiers still attacked her in public.
I won’t wear my hideous bra. Instead, I button the white shirt, which is now tight in the chest in a way that enhances my breasts. Looking in the mirror, I knot the silky ties of the translucent underwear I’ve made for this occasion. My undergarment reveals enough to make me feel sexy, but not so much as to embarrass me. If my plans work, Rey’s hands will snake up my thighs to reveal my legs and underwear. Then he won’t care too much about the rest of my outfit.
The girl in the mirror purses her lips and looks uncertain. The mechanics of the act shouldn’t be a problem because I’ve seen couples doing it. But my lack of experience may ruin my plans. Besides, Rey’s a decent guy. He spent years in a religious order where he got the distinctive tattoo that spares him from recruitment. He slipped only because of love. He may not slip for an emergency deflowering.
I do my hair, being careful to hide the premature gray strands. After all my primping efforts, my hair cascades down my back in soft waves. What I see in the mirror boosts my self-confidence. I’m not the standard Starvillian beauty. Otherwise, boys would turn their heads when I walk by. But I have enough self-esteem to like myself the way I am, despite what others think. I know I can turn Rey on.
After a final look at the mirror, I let go of my fears. I’m taking control of my sexuality. No recruitment law will take away my right to experience sex with the guy of my choice.
I put on my cloak and stride confidently out of the apartment. “Poncho! Let’s go for a walk.”
I’m ready to have what—in my inexperience—has to be the best kind of sex there is.
Consensual sex.
4
Seduction
The torch-lit room is empty except for the old, musty gym mattresses. Not the most romantic scenario for sex, but at least I can be sure soldiers won’t come. Years ago, the museum was the scene of hundreds of beheadings, and now the soldiers think this place is haunted.
I’m more afraid of the living. Dead people can’t rape me.
Privacy is a more pressing concern. There’s the danger of Duque Diaz coming here with his fiancée, so I improvise curtains on the cracked windows and a lock on the door.
I make sure there are mirrors near the gym mattresses where I’ll lose my innocence. I want to see how Rey deflowers me. I take off my cloak and lie on the mattress to test the old, cracked mirrors’ view.
A girl like me, who has been kissed only once, and against her will, is supposed to be sexually ignorant. But I’ve learned a few sex tips by reading Dad’s anatomy books. And watching. After putting a coconut oil jar under the mattress, I lie down, fantasizing about Rey’s amber eyes and Greek profile while the wind hits the museum ruins, producing ghostly sounds.
I get up when I hear him arriving.
Rey’s shoulder-length black hair is wet, as though he has just bathed. It makes him look incredibly sexy. What makes him even more attractive is the knowledge that he’s excellent at martial arts, knife throwing, archery, and … well … everything else we learn and practice here. He must be good in bed, too. But his beautiful soul overshadows his physical attractiveness.
I still don’t understand how he doesn’t have a fiancée. Since the end of his engagement, a lot of girls have offered him comfort, but he has rejected them all.
“Hey!” He greets me with a contagious grin that illuminates his amber eyes. “Why so early, Lily?”
I gauge his reaction to my outfit. I put so much effort into my primping that I suppress a pang of disappointment when he doesn’t notice. But I still have cards to play. Today I need a grateful Rey who will give me something in return for my kindness.
“I made some clothes for Reyna,” I say, taking them out of my backpack. I earn extra money by making clothes out of fabric leftovers. His three-year-old sister gets constant gifts from me.
“You’re spoiling her too much, Lily. Thank you.”
He looks so handsome, so innocent. I can almost pretend Rey’s as inexperienced as I am.
As he sets some boxes on the floor, he notices that I’m staring at him.
“What?” he asks, puzzled.
“Lately, you’ve been smiling more often. It suits you.”
“Nah! I only smile when you’re around,” he says, getting busy with the boxes.
I gulp. What does he mean? Is he flirting? Is he just being kind, as usual?
Rey’s almost twenty-one. In addition to taking carpentry jobs—from guitars and flutes to ornate furniture—he carries heavy things in exchange for food. Those activities have made him muscular and alluring. Before love found him, he was studying to become a priest. Will he do the unthinkable? He doesn’t expect what is coming at him, and I almost feel guilty for what I’m about to ask. Almost.
We talk about the Accord Unit’s arrival and his grin disappears.
“Why don’t Accord cops get hemorrhoids?” he asks while packing provisions in a box.
“Because they’re perfect assholes,” I say in a sing-song voice. I’m not at my wittiest, but he chuckles anyway.
“You hate them, doncha?” he asks. “They don’t sit well with me either.”
Our laughter echoes through the empty wooden walls. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him in a good mood. He’s been stressed out since he promised on his mother’s death bed that he’d raise Reyna. I hope Rey will take a fleeting sexual escape from his problems.
When he isn’t watching, I unfasten one button of my shirt.
His beauty and that I-can’t-imagine-what’s-coming-at-me attitude stir something in me. I want him. I do. I can’t wait to feel the weight of his arms around me. I want him to undo my shirt and slide his hands up my thighs while lifting my skirt. I want him to carry me to the mattresses and hold me down with his weight. I want to wrap my legs around his body, let his hands and lips caress every inch of my skin. I want the pain of having him inside me. But I don’t know how to start this. I don’t know how to seduce him.
If I see something in his eyes that tells me he wants to be intimate, I’ll invite him to take that route with me. At the first sign of arousal, I’ll joke about my having no issue with the matter. Then one thing could lead to another.
As we move boxes to the basement, I make sure to brush my body against his. It takes two failed efforts, but this time, I can tell Rey has noticed. He blushes and tenses. Rey doesn’t look unaffected like before, but he hasn’t reciprocated yet.
Frustrated, I sit on the floor. We don’t have the whole afternoon. It’s time for Plan B: playing the damsel in distress. I hate this plan, but I’ve grown desperate.
I cut my thigh while he’s not looking. When he sits beside me, I stand to give him another flash of my legs. Then, squealing, I pretend I’m losing my balance.
“Watch out!” His hands are on my body as he catches me.
Rey inspects my thigh wound, grazing it with his hand. The soft contact of his fingers with my skin sets my body on fire. Taking advantage of his closeness, I hug him. He’s sweaty, but he still smells so good.
Rey tries to pull away, but I cling to him.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“I’m afraid,” I admit.
Rey’s voice is soothing, sympathetic. “Of the recruitment?”
“Mostly.”
He holds me close like he’s trying to protect me. “It’ll be all right.”
It’s an I-care-for-you hug, not an I-want-to-have-sex hug. I sigh. I have to keep up this farce. “My siblings—”
“They won’t be eligible for seven years. Olmo may even skip recruitment because his fibrosis.”
“They need me, Rey.”
Rey understands. Troops won’t recruit him because of his religious tattoo, but if I get recruited, my family won’t have enough to eat.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asks.
Nodding, I bury my head in his shoulder and press my
breasts against his chest. Every fiber of my body is buzzing with anticipation when I press my pelvis firmly against his. Rubbing him, grinding against him.
After what seems like an eternity, it happens. He gets hard. This is the signal I’ve been waiting for.
I hold the back of his head and pull him closer. I close my eyes and try to make my clumsy lip-work pass as an acceptable kiss. I don’t know how to do it. Warren Lee-Rivers forced a kiss on me when I was ten. After that, no kisses at all. Perhaps I’m doing it wrong since he isn’t moving his mouth in response.
I part his lips with mine. Then I suck his lower lip and caress it with my tongue. In the mirror’s reflection, I see his eyes are open in shock.
He pulls away reluctantly. “Lily ... what … why …?”
I put my arms around him. One wrong word and I won’t reach my goal. The right words and soon we’ll be on those mattresses. “I don’t want my first time forced on me by the troops. You’re my only chance to have nonviolent … s—sex.”
His expression reveals confusion. “It’d be wrong. You may think you want this, but you’re still—”
“A little girl? No, Rey. I’m not a little girl anymore.” I slowly unbutton my shirt. He freezes. When I undo the last button, a visible trail of skin travels from my neck to my waist, hinting at the sides of my breasts. My cleavage is an invitation: You can see it all. Kiss it all.
He stands up, but not before I notice his lustful gaze. I can see he’s restraining himself with all his strength. Rey avoids my eyes, his next words seem intended more to convince himself than me. “You’re not yourself. You don’t want them to recruit you, but you don’t want this, either. I’d be harming you. I … I—”
I close the gap between us and kiss him again, running my hands all over his chest. “You would do more harm … if you … said no.”
Rey hardens even more and can’t hide it. I force him to sit on the mattress, straddling him. In this position, my skirt displays my thighs. Normally, I’m not so brazen, but the fear of recruitment dictates my actions.
I wrap my legs around him so that my most private parts press against his erection. Slowly, rhythmically, I move my hips in small circles, rubbing against him.