by Unknown
“It’s all very expensive. I don’t buy junk, and I don’t let my parents buy me junk, not that they would. You have nothing here that would make you ashamed to wear,” she said.
“I don’t mean that. I don’t want to lose anything expensive. It makes me nervous.”
She laughed. “First of all, Daddy has some kind of insurance policy on our jewelry, and second, I could replace anything anyway, even without insurance, so don’t give it a second thought. I don’t. There,” she said, stepping back. “You have a different outfit for every day of the week with the right accompanying earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings. Start trying things on. Oh, wait a minute!” She examined my ears. “You don’t have pierced ears. Didn’t your mother ever want you to get your ears pierced?”
“No. She didn’t think I was old enough.”
“Damn. Most of these earrings are useless. We have to get your ears pierced. We’ll do it this weekend.”
I looked at the watch she had given me.
“Will you stop being such a worrywart about your homework? I’ll leave you alone after dinner. Promise,” she said, holding up her right hand.
I began trying her things on and was surprised at how well everything fit me. Everything looked and smelled new, too. She raved about it all. All of the tops were skin-tight, shirred, with plunging necklines. The skirts were short and also tighter than I would normally wear. There was a fuchsia halter-top dress that left little to the imagination. In fact, I thought what she was giving me was even sexier than the clothes she wore.
“Are you sure I can wear all of these things to school?”
“Of course you can. You’re not dressing much differently from most of the other girls. Besides, if you have it, flaunt it,” she said. “That’s my motto, and it should be yours, too. You have a great figure.”
I was still reluctant. “Your mother was very upset about it.”
“Of course she is. She has you in Alena’s room, playing Alena’s clarinet, and wearing Alena’s things. We know why, and we know how we both feel about that, right?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Good. I’m starving,” she declared before I could say anything else. “Let’s go eat dinner. Keep that on. I love the expression on Mrs. Duval’s face when she sees you in something I would wear.” She seized my hand and pulled me along.
She was right about Mrs. Duval. Her eyes widened, and she shook her head softly, mumbling to herself as she went back and forth from the dining room to the kitchen.
At dinner, Kiera reminded me about getting the club’s tattoo on Friday.
“That’s when we’ll get your ears pierced, too,” she said.
“What will be our reason for not coming right home after school?” I asked. Mrs. March probably would approve of pierced ears, but I couldn’t imagine her approving of tattoos.
“I’ll tell my mother I had to stop at the mall to pick up some makeup. That’s one thing she understands and approves of, cosmetics. Besides, it is the start of the weekend. We don’t have to rush home to do homework—not that I ever do, anyway.”
“Does she know you have a tattoo?”
“I don’t bathe in front of my mother anymore, Sasha, and certainly not in front of my father. Besides, they both know that if I wanted to do something like that, I’d do it with or without their permission.”
I was still quite nervous about doing it, but I felt I couldn’t back out now without turning all of the girls against me. Kiera didn’t talk about it any more. She went on and on about different boys and other girls at school whom the club members were considering, and she told me more about each of the girls themselves, especially whom I should listen to more and trust more. It was truly as if I had been taken into her confidence now, and there was nothing she wouldn’t tell me. She lived up to her word after dinner, however, and didn’t disturb my homework and practicing of the clarinet.
Grover picked me up after school the following day, as Kiera had a therapy session. During the day, I did notice that more boys were looking at me because of the clothes I was wearing. Both Ricky and Boyd made a point of telling me I looked hot, and all of the girls in the VA club complimented me. I saw the envy in the faces of the girls in my classes, too.
“You’ll need us more than ever,” Deidre whispered. “Boys will be coming at you like flies to honey. Make no promises or commitments until you speak with one of us.”
I thought I had felt as if I were floating when I had just entered such a school, but now I really was lightheaded and happy. I dared to think that maybe I was beautiful; maybe I was just as pretty as or even prettier than Kiera.
Grover was surprised and amused by how many boys accompanied me out to the parking lot, each trying to get me to pay him some special attention.
“I guess you’re adapting pretty well,” he said before driving off. He rarely said anything, so I was pleased and actually felt myself blushing. I waved when I saw Kiera driving away, but she didn’t notice.
Either because we were friendlier now and she was assuming more of a big sister’s role or because she had reached some important realizations about herself, Kiera complained less and less about her therapy and behaved much more nicely and kindly toward her mother. I still saw the suspicion flashing in Mrs. March’s face, but even she began to relax more. On Thursday night, after dinner was over and we were heading up to our rooms, Kiera claiming that she was trying hard to do better in her schoolwork, Mr. March asked me to follow him to his office.
“I’d like to speak with you a moment, Sasha.”
Kiera paused, too.
“You can go up, Kiera. I just need to talk to Sasha right now,” he said.
Kiera looked at me with fear and warning in her face, but she didn’t linger. Mrs. March followed Mr. March and me to his office. He smiled at me as soon as we entered.
“There’s nothing wrong, Sasha,” he said. “You can wipe away your look of anxiety. On the contrary, there’s something right.”
He went to his desk and took a cigar out of a box. “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing with his cigar toward the red bullet leather chairs. I sat, and he lit his cigar.
“You could wait until she leaves, Donald,” Mrs. March said. “Not everyone loves the stench of cigar smoke.”
“Oh. Sorry. Does this bother you, Sasha?”
“No, sir.”
There had been a time not so long ago when the aroma of a lit cigar would have been more like perfume when compared with the odors surrounding me.
He leaned against the front of his desk.
“First,” he began, “I want to thank you for giving Kiera a chance to redeem herself when it comes to you. You have every reason to hate every cell in her body. I know it looks like I’m totally aloof from all that goes on here, but I assure you, I’m not. Both Mrs. March and I have kept in close contact with Kiera’s therapist, and we’re very happy with her progress.”
“We hope it’s real,” Mrs. March said.
“I think Dr. Ralston would be a better judge of that than we would, don’t you, Jordan?”
“I’d hope so. I have a closet full of Kiera’s broken promises to us both.”
He shook his head slightly at her, puffed on his cigar, and turned back to me. “In any case, you’ve been very generous in permitting her to rework herself into decent behavior. I’m also impressed with the influence you’ve had on her. Now, even more important perhaps, I wanted to tell you how pleased I am to hear about your own progress and achievements. I must admit I was wary when Jordan, Mrs. March, wanted to have this arrangement, but I’m very happy to be proven wrong. Is there anything you need? Anything I can do for you?”
I looked at Mrs. March. She was finally smiling warmly.
“No, sir. I have more than I ever dreamed I would have,” I said, and he laughed.
“You and me both, Sasha. You and me both. Okay. I just wanted to have this little talk. Don’t hesitate to come to me if I can do anything more or if anything bothers
you, okay? I know you have Mrs. March to rely on, but I want you to know you have me as well.”
“Thank you.”
He smiled and went around to his desk chair. I rose, glanced at Mrs. March, and then hurried out and up the stairs. Kiera was waiting for me at her doorway.
“What did he want?” she asked. “Was he trying to get you to tell him something? My mother must have put him up to it. Well?”
“No, nothing like that,” I said. “He wanted to tell me how pleased he was with how things were going between us and how both of us were doing now,” I said. “He told me not to hesitate if I needed or wanted anything.”
“My father said that?”
“Yes. He was very nice, nicer to me than ever.”
She studied me a moment to see if I was telling the truth and then smiled. “That’s my father. He can be a real charmer when he wants to be. This is great. Mother might ease up on us. Okay. Get to your homework,” she said, and went into her room.
On Friday as planned, all of the girls in the VA club met us after school and followed as Kiera drove me to a tattoo parlor in West L.A. The man doing the tattoos looked as if he was tattooed on every possible area of his body. There was a snake up his right arm beginning at his wrist and what looked like a chain up his left arm. He even had a tattoo on his throat.
All of the girls followed us into a small area in the rear, and the tattooing began. It wasn’t pleasant, and twice I was on the verge of screaming that I wanted him to stop, but Kiera stood right beside him, and the girls were right behind her. Afterward, I looked at it in a full-length mirror by holding another mirror to catch the reflection. It looked bigger than theirs, and he had done what they had asked, a form of calligraphy.
They insisted on celebrating. Kiera called Mrs. March and told her we had gone to the mall so that I could get my ears pierced. She asked her to let us hang out and go for pizza with some friends. Minutes after she hung up, my phone rang, and Mrs. March asked me if we were doing what Kiera had said we were doing. Kiera knew, of course, that it was her mother calling me, and she watched and listened. I had no choice but to lie.
“Let’s get to the mall,” Kiera said. “We really do need to get your ears pierced, remember?”
Instead of going someplace for pizza afterward, however, we all went to Marcia’s house. She had a younger brother, but her parents had left for a weekend in San Diego and had taken him along. Kiera had told me that Marcia’s father owned car dealerships up and down the coast. A girl whose parents were only middle-class would have a hard time being friends with members of the VA club, I thought. She would always be intimidated by their clothes, their jewelry, and their cars. That feeling was reinforced when I saw Marcia’s family’s home, a sprawling two-story in a place called Brentwood Park. She had a live-in maid, too, but her maid had the night off.
We did order in pizza, and then, to my surprise, boys began to arrive. Ricky and Boyd came first, and then three other boys followed—Tony Sussman, Jack Martin, and Ruben Weiner. They were all seniors as well. In fact, I was the only one there who wasn’t. As before, no one seemed particularly involved with anyone else. When they danced, everyone was dancing with everyone. I saw the vodka being added to the soda and juice, but when Marcia offered me some, Kiera interfered.
“Sasha doesn’t drink,” she said. She said it so sharply that Marcia looked as if she had been slapped.
“Well, excuse me. I didn’t know we had a Mormon in the club.”
“She’s not a Mormon. I promised my mother I wouldn’t let her get into any drinking after what happened to her parents, remember? They were killed by a drunk driver.”
“Oh. Sorry,” Marcia said, turning to me and looking as if she would burst into tears.
Kiera seemed to wink with her whole face. She leaned over to whisper, “She needs to drink to have fun. You and I don’t.”
Later, Ricky spent more time with me. We sat and talked and ate.
“I’ve got to work tomorrow,” he said. “I have next weekend off, and I’m sure I’ll get the boat.”
“I’ve never been on a boat,” I said.
“You will be next weekend.” He looked at the others and then brought his lips to mine. It wasn’t a quick peck, either. It was a soft, long kiss. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I expected that everyone would be looking at us, but no one was.
We kissed again and again before the party ended, but we didn’t do much more. I wasn’t disappointed, but I was anticipating it. When Kiera announced that we had to leave, Ricky followed us out. He kissed me again before I got into the car. I knew Kiera was watching.
“See you soon,” he said, but he held on to my arm. Then he leaned in, bringing his lips to my ear. “I hear you were inducted into the VA club,” he whispered. “I hope I’m the one.”
He turned and walked back into the house before I could respond, not that I knew what to say. When I got into the car, Kiera asked me immediately what he had whispered. I told her. I was surprised that he knew about the club.
“He’s okay. He has the Good Sexkeeping Seal of Approval,” she said nonchalantly, and started the car. As we drove out, she slowed down and turned to me, “But as for him initiating you, that’s not his decision—or yours, for that matter.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ll bring it up at the next meeting, and the members will vote on it. There are four other boys who are approved for initiations, right now only four boys.”
“You mean everyone votes on which boy each girl is with for the first time?”
“Of course. That way, no one makes a serious mistake. When I said I was going to be your protective older sister, I meant it,” she said. “It’s the least I can do for you, and I appreciate your letting me do it. We’re all sisters now. The members of the club think clearly and carefully about each girl’s sexual experiences. Everyone there has far more experience than you have. Why shouldn’t you benefit from their experiences? Believe me, my mother wouldn’t be any sort of adviser when it comes to sex. Sometimes I think she and my father stopped doing it.
“Despite what some people tell you, sex for the first time is the most important time. Our four boys know how to make love to a virgin. There have been no complaints,” she added, smiling.
We drove on.
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask, but I didn’t. Whatever happened to love?
28
Decision
A strange thing happened at school during the days that followed. The more I hung out with the older students, whether at lunch or talking to them in the halls between classes and going with Kiera and the others to malls or restaurants, the more invisible I became to my classmates. Those who had once been impressed with my being so lovey-dovey with a senior boy were now indifferent to me. No one said hello or even nodded at me. They walked past me as though I weren’t there.
I continued to do well in class and improve on the clarinet, but when Mr. Denacio announced that I would have a seat in the senior band and issued me a uniform, everyone else in the class took it as if it had been expected. It wasn’t so much an achievement as simply another assumed step. Big deal was written across their faces. Ironically, Kiera and the club members were the only friends I had. No one my own age would give me the time of day.
One Wednesday, Kiera told me that we were having a meeting of the VA club at Deidre’s house after school on Friday, and I was the main topic. She asked me how my period had been since she had given me her pill. I had gone through it far better than any time I had had it before and told her so.
“My doctor says we should take the pill afterward, too,” she said. “It will prevent you from having those severe cramps next time. These are for you. Take one every day now.”
I thanked her and took one every morning as her doctor had prescribed. As Friday drew closer, I was even more nervous for the VA club meeting than I had been the first time. After all, it was to be all about my first sexual experience.
&
nbsp; The other girls were already there when we arrived, sitting in the same places. They all looked very serious. I saw the pictures of four boys on the coffee table: Ricky, Boyd, Ruben Weiner, and Tony Sussman. Deidre brought a chair for me and put it in the center so I’d face all of the girls.
“We didn’t ask you last time,” Margot began, “but how much experience do you have? How far have you gone with a boy?”
I looked at Kiera, but she was just as serious and stone-faced as they were.
“All I’ve ever done with a boy I did at Marcia’s party with Ricky,” I said.
“Just kiss?” Marcia said, squinting and crinkling her nose as though kissing were more disgusting. “What, did you grow up in Disneyland?”
“There’s no reason to pick on her,” Kiera said. “You weren’t exactly Miss Sophisticated when we brought you into the club.”
Marcia blushed and sat back.
“That still leaves Tony out. He moves too fast, assuming the girl has been on the verge,” Deidre said. “Everyone agree?”
They all nodded, and she turned Tony’s picture over.
“Can she go on a date? Will your mother permit it?” Doris asked.
“I doubt it,” Kiera said. “My mother refuses to see her as anything but a ten-year-old, and she has this thing about added responsibility for her.”
“She doesn’t look ten now,” Margot said. “I want to know where you got that fuchsia outfit you wore the other day.”
I looked at Kiera. Hadn’t she ever worn it?
“Like it will look as good on you,” Doris muttered.
“Can we get on with the business at hand?” Kiera said sharply.
“Ruben uses his love machine,” Deidre says. “It’s an SUV. All the seats go down, and he throws an air mattress in it. It feels like a waterbed.”
“You should know,” Doris said, smiling.
“Like you don’t?”
Doris laughed.
“In any case, he’d be better if it was going to be a straight-out date, don’t you think?” Deidre asked. Everyone nodded, and she turned his picture over.
“It’s between Boyd and Ricky, and we know how you feel about Ricky already,” Marcia said.