Virginal Valentine

by Barbra Campbell

  One more kiss and I had to drag my hands off her body as I stepped away.

  “Tomorrow,” she said.

  Chapter 7

  Missy

  At work the next day, I wondered who knew about my date with Ty. And since I’d said it out loud to him, would there be renewed interest in my virginity? I was pretty certain guys told each other those kinds of things.

  Focusing on work provided an amazingly solid buffer between me and my co-workers on most days. Not wanting to talk to anyone, more than normal, I kept my head down and a chart in my hands. It doesn’t take a very savvy introvert to figure out most people are more than willing to let you work… the art of being invisible.

  The evening with Ty had been amazing despite my less than smooth admission. He even knew how to play Double Solitaire. His perfection had come to an end though when he moved cards between stacks. I was a distinct non-mover, and was eternally grateful when he agreed not to move them. But that was far from the best moment of the evening. My core tingled every time I remembered what he did with his hands.

  I had a strange understanding of why my parents had taught me not to pleasure myself. All I could think about was another orgasm.

  The other nurses quieted when I approached the nurse’s station, but I could see Jessi holding her phone. No doubt someone had posted another photoshopped picture of me. More mouse ears for the Mouse of Mercy? I failed to understand why it was necessary to pick on someone simply because they were quiet. Or more virgin jokes? I glared at Jessi and kept my chin high.

  The petty, vindictive side of me begged to take a picture of the three of them hovering over her phone when there were plenty of patients to attend to.

  The majority of me voted not to make a scene. Perhaps even consider it ‘rising above’, even though I’d yet to be rewarded for any of the times I’d made the noble decision to avoid the fray.

  “He’s hung,” Jessi said.

  Giggles broke out.

  I tried to imagine they were talking about horses as I retrieved a file from the chart carousel. Opting to read the chart somewhere other than next to the gossip trio, I rounded the end and headed to the patient’s room.

  Jessi thrust herself over the counter and shot her arm in front of me. “Wait.”

  I stopped and took a breath, clutching the folder to my chest, my gaze remained straight ahead.

  She snapped her fingers and in my peripheral vision, one of her minions handed the phone to her. “Aren’t you and Ty a thing now?”

  “Excuse me, it’s time to check on Mr. Hoover.” I knew Jessi didn’t care so I stepped aside, intent on walking past.

  Jessi pulled her arm back but my freedom was short-lived when she rushed from behind the desk and scurried to catch up with me. Blocking my path, she brought her phone up between us.

  The awkwardness of how close the screen was to my face, and my general dislike of being anywhere near Jessi caused me to flinch backward.

  She grabbed by shoulder with her free hand, her dagger-like nails demanding my attention. If only she’d leave marks, wouldn’t that be enough to get her fired?

  “Sorry,” she said and relaxed her grip.

  Since when did she apologize for anything? My gaze returned to her phone, probably because I was a glutton for punishment. A penis. “Oh my god.”

  Jessi lost hold of me as I bolted down the hallway.

  A flush of embarrassment filled my chest, crept up my neck, and had to have reddened my entire face. I darted into Mr. Hoover’s room and coughed into the crook of my elbow to buy myself a second to gather my emotions.

  Staying painfully aware my reprieve wouldn’t last much past me exiting the room, I enjoyed the moment. The beeps and clicks of the medical devices offered a therapeutic rhythm. Mr. Hoover slept while I recorded vitals in his chart, my preferred way to deal with patients, but for once I’d hoped he would wake up and be game for casual conversation.

  Faced with waiting in his room or venturing into the hallway and dealing with Jessi, I weighed my options. If I stayed, Jessi and I would both be sidelined from helping people.

  Pretending to read his chart, I planned to exit the room quickly and gain a step on her. Maybe she would take the hint I wasn’t interested in her latest conquest.

  Didn’t work. As soon as I rounded the doorway, she was glued to my side, phone held out in front of us forcing me to revisit the erection.

  “So, can you clarify… Is this Ty?” she asked.

  I shoved a hand at her phone, covering the screen. Why would she have a picture of him? No. There was no proof it was Ty. She was trying to get a rise out of me like always. “Stop. This isn’t appropriate for the workplace.”

  She dipped the phone around my hand and the picture resurfaced closer to my face causing me to stumble.

  She continued. “So you’re the lucky one. Is he really this big? How was it for your first time? Or is that too personal?”

  I firmed myself. The mantra for the day had been, ‘I am my biggest supporter.’ How did the darn thing always find relevance? Was it self-fulfilling? I should stop looking for ways to apply it and go back to my tidy, unadventurous world.

  Until then, I’d honor my pact with myself to own more of my life. “I’d prefer not to discuss my private relationships.”

  “Maybe you were too prude, I mean private for Ty’s liking.”

  Jessi was one of the busy-bodies who’d found it necessary to ask about my virginity. My date with Ty had to have her precious gossip-filled heart aflutter.

  Self-doubt pumped through my body faster than I could combat it with positive mantras. Ty’s tone had changed after I told him I was a virgin. I’d assumed it was a surprise, but maybe it had been a deal breaker. My body tingled at the memory of his hand tucked inside of my pants.

  True to the lessons I’d been taught, sex was already interfering with my ability to work. Other people figured it out, surely I could. My sinful mind wasn’t going to let me forget.

  His innocent touches in the kitchen had been genuine, and even when he cooled it off for me, he’d been kind. I couldn’t believe he’d send a dick pic to Jessi.

  Except he’d shoved his hand down my pants and gave me an orgasm. Why didn’t it clue me in that he was only after one thing? Did he go running to Jessi when he cut our evening off?

  Was I upset with the wrong person? Was Ty or Jessi the bad guy? Life definitely got more complicated when forbidden activities were involved. I refused to acknowledge that as proof my parents had been right.

  Ty understood the value of limits and friendship, I was certain. Why else would he insist on another simple, at-home date? Jessi had to be the evil one. Two could play her game. “Ty didn’t send it to you. Sorry not to participate in your gossip.”

  Using the patient’s chart to create a barrier between me and the phone, I shuffled to the side and left.

  Updating the dry erase board, I scanned for the next patient. The other nurses had dispersed and had taken some of the tasks.

  Jessi hovered behind me. “What makes you sure Ty didn’t send it?”

  I spun around, grabbed her phone and tapped the screen to find where the picture came from. I’d suspected she’d clicked on a picture from the internet and braced myself to look away if the screen suddenly populated with penis pictures.

  It didn’t. Her Messages app filled the screen. Ty’s name, which I recalled was at the top of the picture’s screen was highlighted.

  She waited as I tried to sort what I was seeing.

  More perplexing than the erection.

  “See, it’s from him.”

  “You could have changed anyone’s name to say Ty Torres.” My chest tightened. Names could be changed, but calling out someone who was far more adept at all the things phones could be used for was low on the list of things I was qualified to do. And, I had no idea what Ty’s penis looked like because he’d stopped me.

  College, high school, middle school… every evil taunt about my naivete sw
irled through my mind. My parents had told me people who talked about sex were the ones not doing it. But with age comes wisdom, and I learned that the internet made their statement not entirely true.

  Jessi took her phone back.

  Instead, she kept the phone angled so I could see it, tapped on Ty’s name, clicked Details, and pointed at the phone number. “Check it against what you have.”

  I swallowed hard. Putting in a fake name was easy. Changing a number shouldn’t be possible.

  “Well, get your phone. Or do you have his number memorized?” she taunted.

  I did. It was Ty’s number. Betrayal washed over me. A familiar emotion. The few times I’d tried to trust someone only to find out I was the butt of some joke had shaped my protected life. Letting someone past my defenses required more scrutiny than giving Top Secret clearance.

  But not Ty. I’d fallen head over heels for him the moment I saw him walk out of a patient’s room. Something abstract had rocked my core, made me believe I had found my one true love. And when he asked me out, that was a universal mandate. Or not.

  Jessi destroyed everything the universe had sent my way with one picture. Actually, I guess Ty had. Jessi was merely the messenger. Should I thank her for saving me? How demented was I? Or were they both at fault? Yep. I hated both of them.

  “Mousy, are you going to check the number?” Jessi said.

  I avoided her insistent gaze. My hands were shaking and my knees wanted to give out. I ran to the bathroom unsure if I could control the flood of emotions. Crying in front of her would admit defeat. Crying out of sight might leave a shred of dignity.

  Taking the corner too tight and too fast, I ran smack into Ty and his broad chest.

  The impact forced my breath out in a huge huff. The security and strength of his arms around me could have made everything right. All I had to do was ask. And exactly how would that go? I didn’t exactly have any kind of claim on Ty.

  Why further humiliate myself? How fast before word would spread that his clingy, virgin, almost-girlfriend didn’t want to share him with anyone else.

  In this case, the day’s mantra of supporting myself would be getting to the bathroom as fast as possible because tears would flow if I relaxed enough to breathe. Not in front of my sexting frenemies. They’d probably take a picture and make me into a meme.

  Why did people think those stupid things were funny? I’d never understood since I wasn’t the fun type.

  I pushed away and bee-lined for privacy.

  He called after me but I didn’t respond. He banged on the bathroom door which thankfully had a lock.

  Staring into the sink, I wished I hadn’t gotten my hopes up.

  Panic flitted through me, putting tears on hold, when I considered someone else might have already been in one of the stalls. Quick check. Stall one, good.

  Flush.

  Oh no.

  An older nurse I barely recognized shuffled out of the stall, smiled sweetly, washed her hands faster than we were supposed to, and headed toward the door as if a woman on the verge of tears in the bathroom was commonplace.

  Nausea and a headache paralyzed me.

  She tugged on the door to exit but it didn’t budge. Glancing at me, she shrugged her shoulders. “I have to get back to work.”

  Even though Ty had quit banging on the door calling to me, I suspected he was waiting on the other side. He would come in. I’d have to address the picture.

  The lady put her fingers on the lock. “Do you want to relock it behind me?”

  If I locked the door again, he might resume making a scene. Rubbing my hands on my scrubs, I considered saying there were other women using the restroom but it would make me a liar, and if he called my bluff, I had no recourse.

  She waited for my answer.

  Staring at the floor, I shook my head.

  The nurse walked toward me. “Guy troubles?”

  I nodded. Drama definitely wasn’t my thing, but there was some gratification in her kind words. Was I remotely normal after all? Not that running down the hall and locking myself in a public restroom were everyday occurrences in the workplace. But guy troubles and another woman offering me support… those were things I’d only heard about other people experiencing.

  “Do you want to talk?” She handed me a strip of toilet paper for my sniffly nose.

  Talk to a total stranger about my lonesome life? Not quite ready for that level of normal. I wiped my nose and took a deep breath to calm myself. “Thanks, but it’s kind of embarrassing.”

  “Add it to the list, right dear? But remember, in a day or at least a week, it won’t seem nearly as terrible, whatever it is. And if you ever want to talk, you can usually find me in the ICU.” She flashed her name card at me, Glenda, then rubbed my arm.

  The friendly gesture sent comfort through me, a gentle reminder that while I tended to prefer my own company, I also valued others every once in a while. A cocktail of emotions overflowed my chest and I wasn’t sure I could talk without starting the waterworks. I nodded and forced a smile.

  “You have a plan for when I open the door?” Glenda nodded toward the door.

  Panic? Vanish? If I held a stranger captive, I’d never make friends. “Go on.”

  I tossed the toilet paper in the trash, ran my hands over my face, and checked myself in the mirror. A hint of redness in my eyes, but I’d suppressed most of my emotions, as normal. My body was used to it.

  Glenda headed to the door and called over her shoulder. “Take care of yourself, hun.”

  “Okay.” My phone dinged. I’d forgotten I’d shoved it in my pocket earlier. I took it out and clicked open the text message. Oh no, Jessi forwarded the picture to me. I fumbled for the button to close the picture and glanced up to make sure Glenda hadn’t seen it.

  She was set on escaping and clicked the lock.

  My heart raced. Why did parts of me feel giddy while other parts were furious? I opened my mouth to tell Glenda to wait but she was opening the door already.

  I couldn’t face Ty, not after seeing his man parts, especially since they weren’t meant for me.

  Glenda didn’t move fast and hadn’t made it through the doorway.

  Rushing behind her, I used her as a blockade. Quickly checking both directions of the hallway, I determined Ty was to the left.

  The microsecond I glanced his way was enough to reveal the pain and confusion on his face. Was he playing Mr. Nice Guy with me while he was having sex with someone else, namely Jessi? I had no idea they were a thing. Or did he figure out Jessi showed me the picture and he was irritated he had to convince me it was an accident, or whatever. Was there a way to send one of those pictures accidentally?

  Chapter 8

  Missy

  Thankfully the rest of my shift was busy and I avoided any further conflict before heading home.

  I reread the text messages from Ty asking if I was okay, what had upset me, was there anything he could do to help, what time should he come over…

  No point gracing any of them with an answer except the last question. He shouldn’t come over.

  Me: No date tonight.

  Would he shack up with Jessi instead? Would they get a laugh out of me freaking out over the picture?

  The picture… I hadn’t been able to bring myself to delete it. I’d opened it twice already since getting home. Oh no, what if the sender could tell how many times I viewed it. Was it in some kind of trackable message? No, I was paranoid. I hoped. And now the picture was foremost on my mind again.

  I turned my phone on and reached my finger to my Messages app. My mouth watered and my panties were decidedly wetter. I was a sinner. Simple as that. I’d ruined my life.

  No, there was no reason to believe I could be ruined by one mistake. I was shy, but I was strong too. I closed my phone.

  Distraction was necessary.

  From the comfort of my couch, a blanket draped over my shoulders, I leaned over the coffee table and dealt a hand of regular solitaire. Wha
t made that version take over as the main one? No one even called it Klondike or Classic anymore.

  It wasn’t my favorite, but trying to bring chaos into order appealed to me. All of the uncertainty, the cards in my hand, the ones under the top card in each stack, and whether I should choose this one or that one… I may not be able to sort it out in my life, but at least I could gather the cards and re-deal when I lost at a game.

  I flipped three cards at a time, my usual preference, but with all of the unknowns I considered opting for the version that allowed a single card to be flipped. One at a time felt like cheating. I stuck with three.

  I’d heard the term ‘ghosting’ someone, and quite frankly it was genius. Unfortunately, I hadn’t thought it through fully. Sure, not responding offered some kind of power or liberty or something, but it didn’t stop the messages from coming in.

  Ty could text and call as many times as he wanted because there was no corollary for ghosting to dictate the other person would hit a magical limit and stop sending things to you.

  Thankfully, after his initial texts he dropped off.

  I flipped the last set of three cards from my hand, no plays. Unbelievable, not a single play the whole game. A rare event. I scanned my stacks, then went through the cards in my hand again. Not a single card played, a complete loss.

  Lifting the top card from each stack, I added them to the cards in my hand then scooped up all of the untouched cards that remained face down.

  My phone rang. Ty.

  I shuffled the deck instead of answering.

  Text message alert.

  Ignored, for a few seconds while I shuffled again.

  What did he want? I wasn’t good with mystery. I stared at my dark screen. If I opened my messages, his would be on top because it was newest, but Jessi’s would be right up there, and the picture would still be on the thumbnail, and I’d still know what it was. I swallowed hard. Even if she could track how many times I opened it, she wouldn’t be able to tell when I looked at the thumbnail. Ugh, that was so wrong.

  My fingers tried to shuffle again but without my brain in cahoots, the cards scattered. I dropped my head back. Fifty-two Card Pick-Up was my least favorite card game on the planet.