The V Girl: A coming of age story

by Mya Robarts

  “Hi, Luke.” There. I did it. For an antisocial, quiet person like me, this is a triumph.

  To my utter astonishment, Luke responds with a sincere grin. His voice is kind when he greets me, pronouncing my name correctly and with warmth.

  We pass him without uttering another word. My jaw is on the floor. I can’t believe it! I’m so used to bullies that I’ve forgotten there are good men around, even here in Starville.

  Azzy looks proud of herself. “How was that?” she asks.

  I hate her smug face. I shrug, trying to hide my smile.

  “Try it again, Lila!” She looks genuinely happy for me. “Look, there’s Aleksey Fürst.”

  Oh no! I won’t flirt with Aleksey; he’s always quiet and moody. I’m afraid he’ll snap.

  Elena Rivers and Ava Peters swarm around Aleksey, flirting covertly. They’re what Starvillers call women with crinoline, which means that they can afford expensive, uncomfortable dresses. Starville rules stretch for girls like them. Aleksey ignores them, his focus on patrolling the streets.

  I look at him, wondering how it’s possible that this coveted man is now my voyeurmate. It seems unreal. The first time, I was too amazed to do anything. The second time, I thought about scaring him off, but I hesitated so long that he left before I did anything. By the third time, I stopped caring. Perhaps it’s because I’m lonely here in this misogynistic town. I’d rather be alone than hang out with locals, but I still crave a different kind of company.

  If only he didn’t look like the soldier of my nightmares … perhaps … I …

  Azzy brings me back to reality. “My bread portion for a week.”

  Aleksey strolls toward us. His cape floats around his gigantic frame, and his masculine face is set in its usual impenetrable mask.

  When he turns, I grin at him, trying to put all the warm feelings I can muster into my smile. “Hi.”

  His reaction takes me unaware. Aleksey blinks and clears his throat. Then he turns his face away, making a strange gesture with his hand. The cop’s version of a wave. He hurries away, disappearing down the street as Azzy grins, revealing an I-told-you expression.

  I use my newfound charms on Tristan next, when he drives an Accord ambulance past us. He appears amused.

  “Look at my sister, the flirter! You’re the flirt ninja!”

  “Look at you, Azalea. Teaching your older sister how to flirt to use men.”

  “Men don’t care about being used.”

  I scoff. “You said that they’re not all the same.”

  And that’s what I want for myself. A man who is different. Not right now, but someday. When war doesn’t threaten the people I love.

  * * *

  The trees that surround the glade seem to reflect the light of the sun. The balmy weather and the river’s lapping melody have put Divine and Joey in a romantic mood. They’ve placed orange petals on the blankets and keep whispering how much they love each other.

  My imagination has replaced Joey’s body with Aleksey’s. I have seen Aleksey naked only once, but I still remember every line of his chiseled body.

  Imaginary Aleksey is now completely naked and sweaty, slowly planting kisses on her pointed nipples. His lips travel to her stomach, leaving kiss marks all along her torso. He gently bends her knees, exposing her completely.

  Aleksey slowly kisses and licks her lower lips before he enters her with his considerable length. His broad back and shoulders cover Divine’s entire body. Bulky biceps tense and bulge as his rounded, tight butt moves and clenches rhythmically. He thrusts into her again and again. At times in circular motions, at other times slowly, pausing. Sometimes in fast jerks that make her scream.

  A deep, masculine voice growls behind me. “Miss Velez, you’re under arrest.”

  Startled, I look up. I can’t believe he’s talking to me! His presence is imposing. The way he says “arrest” with a caressing, guttural R shoots bolts of electricity through my body.

  “On what charges?” I ask, looking away. I’m afraid he knows that I was watching him.

  He inhales deeply, like he’s searching for a particular smell. “Voyeurism. It’s illegal in at least twenty states.”

  I’m still thinking about the undressed Aleksey in my mind as the real cop sits in his usual spot—three feet away from me. I glance at the couple in the meadow. The lovers, still ravishing each other’s bodies, are oblivious to the new member of the crowd.

  He takes a sip from his flask. I’ve never really talked to Aleksey before, and being in the situation we are in now doesn’t make it any easier. At least today he’s not wearing his I-hate-everybody expression.

  I breathe deeply before speaking in a secure voice—a voice that I hope doesn’t reflect the mess I am inside. “They’d arrest you, too. You’re watching the same show I am.”

  “I’m not paying attention to them. Watching is not my kink.”

  What is his kink then? I search my mind for a witty comeback, but I can’t think clearly in this situation. “Then you’re watching me watching. That should be illegal, too.”

  He watches me appraisingly. “I’m a consenting adult. They’re consenting adults, whereas you—”

  “Hey!” I say defensively. “I’m a consenting adult, too. I may look younger, but I’m eighteen.”

  I shake my head in disbelief. Did I just exchange full-length sentences with this quiet man?

  When the activity in front of us becomes too intense, I get uncomfortable. Divine’s screams, the sound of bodies slapping, and this incredibly good-looking stranger watching me. I stare at my feet, feeling the weight of his penetrating gaze. The spectacle, the environment, and the sounds are quite sensual. It turns me on, so he must be turned on as well.

  “Don’t you have better things to do than watch me peep?” I ask. I receive no answer.

  A loud wail and a series of tremors announce that Divine has reached the sky, the stars, and beyond.

  “The little death,” Aleksey mutters, looking fleetingly at Divine.

  This is so twisted. How is it that I can’t walk away? I should hate him, but my body welcomes the physical turmoil he creates in me. But the erratic heartbeats and the butterflies in my stomach don’t come from arousal alone. They also come from fear.

  The activity grows intense again. Now Joey’s pounding her with so much force from behind that her breasts are bouncing. He digs his fingers into her hips and spanks her. Even though it seems like Joey doesn’t care if he hurts her, I know he does. He possesses her. He’s loving her with all he has, and it doesn’t look romantic at all. It’s primitive. Erotic.

  After fifteen minutes, I realize Joey’s exaggerating his ability to delay orgasm, and she’s almost tapping her feet. I won’t watch anymore. “Come on! Just come already!” I mumble and suppress a laugh. Aleksey hears me. I swear he’s trying not to smile.

  I lie down, closing my eyes. “Why do they call you Prince?”

  “My surname. Fürst in German is a kind of prince.”

  It suits him. If you look past his roughness, you can see a regal look that doesn’t belong to an ex-soldier.

  “My best friend’s name is Rey, which means King; his sister’s name means Queen, and his brother’s name means Duke.”

  “También hablo español, amor.” His beautiful accent caresses the Spanish words. His voice doesn’t sound guttural, and it’s so sexy that the butterflies in my stomach go berserk.

  The lovers are finally experiencing a mutual orgasm, but Aleksey has long since stopped paying attention. He’s been scribbling in his journal and seems completely engrossed. He probably doesn’t even remember I’m here. I don’t want to be nosy, but he answers my unspoken question.

  “I’m writing about the human touch.”

  “If I asked you, would you explain to me what the hell human touch is?”

  His eyes turn to Joey, who is tenderly extracting twigs from Divine’s hair. “It can’t be explained; it has to be felt.”

  I sit up. “The hum
an touch sounds like a concept that doesn’t exist in Starville.”

  Aleksey shakes his head and mumbles something that sounds like, Ask your brother.

  I look at him, wondering whether Aleksey is as skilled in bed as he is at playing music.

  Is it my imagination? Or does scorching sexual tension crackle through the air every time we’re together? There are naked people in front of us performing a sexual ritual I’ve been yearning to experience firsthand. Since Rey won’t do it … why not search for a private place in this glade and …?

  I shake my head. What a gruesome thought! If I had sex with Aleksey, I’d be giving myself to a soldier.

  Then I get an idea. Maybe this voyeurmate thing can work to my advantage. “If you have so much free time to spare on your … hobbies, I was wondering if you … could do me a favor.” He looks at me intently. Maybe it’s my imagination, but his eyes seem greedy.

  I inhale to gather courage. “It has to be a secret.”

  “I should not comply,” he says. His theatrical tone doesn’t match his grave expression.

  My cheeks flush. “You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

  “It must be related to that conversation.”

  I grimace. “What conversation?” I ask, guessing the answer. Ugh! Voyeur and eavesdropper.

  “The one with your sister. At the clinic.”

  I feel my cheeks burn … not only because of his awareness of my maidenhood status, but also because he looks like he’d say yes if I asked him that.

  I take a moment to calm myself, but still my voice sounds croaky. “It has something to do with that … in a way.”

  “I’d help if I could, but I’m too intense for an innocent girl. I prefer positions that are too deep, painful, and unromantic for an inexperienced maid—”

  I bury my face in my palms. “Hey! I wasn’t going to ask you that!”

  Aleksey continues as though he hasn’t heard me. “I’ve never had sex with a virgin. I never kiss during sex, and I prefer not to have sex in bed. I’m into perversions that are too advanced, kinky, and rough for you.”

  Whoa! How can he be so blunt with a complete stranger? Perhaps he’s taunting me. Am I supposed to laugh? If so, then I’ll rise to his challenge. “Everything you’ve said leads me to conclude that you’re a bad lay.”

  Any other man would be offended, but Aleksey must be overly confident in his stud skills because he doesn’t look affronted. Instead, he stares at me greedily, and I’m surprised to see a mysterious smile crossing his usual scowling face. “Why would you think that?” he asks in a tone that seems to say, You’re too innocent to understand.

  “Because if intense is the only way you do it, and you favor only one position, then you’re limited.”

  His now-hungry eyes reveal a wicked glint. He moves closer, staring into my eyes, forcing me to lean back. “I do all positions, well … I do everything. There’s no way I could explain what I mean by intense without offending you. Your inexperience brought you to the wrong conclusion.”

  “If you don’t kiss and you don’t use a bed, how will you ever please your partner?”

  “Oh, little Miss Velez, if only I could show you.” His blue eyes look into mine mischievously. I force myself to maintain eye contact. “Of course, I wouldn’t ever … otherwise, I would take you to a quieter place.”

  “I’d never let you,” I retort, forcing my voice to sound casual. An angry tone would give away my true feelings: The fact that he has declined a hypothetical sexual encounter for which I haven’t asked not only irritates me, but intrigues me.

  I whistle, and Poncho appears, all wet from his bath. I don’t look back as I make my way toward the trees.

  Aleksey walks right behind me. “You were going to ask me for a favor.”

  “In fact, it’s more than one favor.” I turn around to look at him and glimpse Divine and Joey, who are eyeing us suspiciously.

  “You’ll have to whisper it in my ear,” he says in a low, husky voice, looking at me hungrily.

  I abruptly stop walking, and my jaw drops to the floor. He’s flirting! I’m so impressed that I can hardly move.

  He leans in closer, his eyes clouding over as he lends me an ear.

  But if a man find a betrothed damsel in the field, and the man force her, and lie with her: then the man only that lay with her shall die: But unto the damsel thou shalt do nothing; there is in the damsel no sin worthy of death: for as when a man riseth against his neighbor, and slayeth him, even so is this matter: For he found her in the field, and the betrothed damsel cried, and there was none to save her.

  Deuteronomy 22:25-27

  11

  Cops’ fun

  Aside from the chair and a full-length mirror that Tristan lent me, my room is almost empty. I sit on my cot before changing for a workout. I’m determined to improve my chances of defending myself against soldiers. Besides, I have plenty of pent-up frustration to release.

  My face flushes, but it’s not an effect of the workout. I feel humiliated by what I’ve asked of a perfect stranger, and by what he’s asked of me in return. I don’t have many choices, so it’s natural that I asked … but at his price? I have to think carefully about this.

  I’m ashamed that Aleksey knows my secrets. I want to hate him, but the sadness in his face has kept me intrigued since the first time I saw him. I feel gratitude because he’s helped me, but now I’m too shocked to keep up with all the conflicting emotions he incites in me.

  Sunset overtakes the sky as I perform a succession of push-ups, crunches, squats, and jumps.

  I take a break and look out the window. What I see startles me.

  Aleksey sits on the clinic’s roof, his back to me, his muscular legs crossed. He seems to be contemplating the vastness of the woods below him. It’s not unusual for him to go there when the clinic slows down. What’s peculiar is that Olmo sits near him, imitating Aleksey’s everyday somber expression and pose. Olmo is eating an orange; it’s evident that he’s enjoying himself.

  Apparently, Olmo has found a role model and enjoys his company, even though his hero rarely speaks. Poncho is with them, so I know that Olmo’s relatively safe, but I hate the idea of my brother getting attached to this stranger.

  When Dad calls him for another homeschooling session, Olmo disappears from view. If Aleksey hears Olmo’s enthusiastic goodbye, he doesn’t show it.

  I stare at the broody General for a long time. Why is Aleksey always alone? How will he answer my requests? And how should I answer his? Perhaps it’s best to be prepared for negative answers. I’m still considering his proposition, though.

  I shake my head and return to my training. I practice knife throwing. I haven’t given up hope of losing my maidenhood, so I also use Kegel exercises to work on my inner muscles. I’ll clasp my partner’s penis so tightly that he’ll never forget me.

  I don’t know if it’s an effect of my obsessive exercise, but that night, I have soldier-free dreams.

  * * *

  The steep streets are strangely deserted for an early, drizzly afternoon. My siblings and I had lined up for food earlier, but Olmo got sick while we were waiting. I sent them home ahead of me. Poncho went with the twins, so I carry a knife inside my cloak. Just in case.

  On Ephesians Avenue, the members of the Accord Unit sit on the curb, drinking. Damn! I wasn’t expecting to see them here. This avenue reeks of sewage, so cops and soldiers usually avoid this area. I don’t know why they don’t go to the canteen. Hell, I don’t know why they don’t do what they’re supposed to do: protect civilians. I wish they would return to their countries.

  Their leader doesn’t laugh with the others. Instead, Aleksey scribbles in his leather-bound journal.

  I frown, recalling the events of the past few days. Aleksey discovered my secrets and made fun of me. Then, he made a strange proposal and hasn’t spoken to me since. He hasn’t even addressed my request. I hate seeing him surrounded by drunken idiots. I intend to pass them, preten
ding they don’t exist.

  Unfortunately, they don’t extend to me the same courtesy.

  “Prince Aleksey, isn’t that the girl who, instead of eyes, has a pair of green oceans?” chuckles a man with a raspy voice. The cops respond with guffaws and catcalls. “No wonder she’s blushing.”

  They are so drunk that I cannot make sense of their words. Aleksey remains silent.

  “Sir Tristan,” says Gary Sleecket, adjusting his belt. “The girl’s rolling her eyes at us. You and Prince Aleksey should teach her some respect.”

  Someone drawls, “Sleecket, look at her. Isn’t she more your type?”

  Neither Tristan nor Aleksey participates in the mockery.

  “Prince Aleksey is the one who saved her life, so she should compensate him. Of course, if Prince Aleksey wants to delegate that responsibility to me, I won’t complain. Because—”

  From the corner of my eye, I see Aleksey glaring at them. His murderous shuts them up.

  I briskly walk away after casting a scornful glance at them. This only makes them laugh.

  The sky is getting darker, and hardly any Starvillers are in sight. I stop by the apothecary to buy excipient for the pills. Then I begin the trip home, taking a different route from the one I used before.

  I’m halfway to the clinic when Gary Sleecket appears behind me. He seems to be in his late forties, and his stealth tells me that he must have been one of the best soldiers in his country.

  I nervously glance at my surroundings. The other cops are nowhere in sight. Are they ambushing me?

  “Where are you going, Sweetie Pie?” His speech is so slurred that I can barely make out what he says. “I can walk you home if you want.”

  I change direction several times but can’t get rid of him.

  “Why that expression? I’ve saved thousands of Nats like you from starvation.”

  I increase my pace, but he quickly catches up.

  “I deserve a bit of gratitude. You’re a sweet girl. I want to lick your nice, young cunt.”

  I gasp, feeling nauseated. My disgust is soon replaced by hot fury. The few passersby near the fallen overpass are oblivious to my distress.