The Virgin Wars

Chapter 5

"You going somewhere?" I asked her. She was headed for the front door. 

"Not like it's any of your business, but I'm meeting my friend Nadia to go work out. I need to continue my routine." Her routine consisted of an unhealthy amount of water, minimal saltine crackers, and a juice cleanse. To say the least, my parents were not pleased with her decision to completely drop proper nutrition to attempt to shrink her bones, which were naturally large.

"Nadia?" I whispered.

"Yes..." Mallory gave me a weird stare. "My friend Nadia."

"Nadia?" I asked again.

"Are you retarded? Yes, my friend Nadia. You look like you want to stab someone in the face." She turned to open the door but stopped mid step. "God, Peyton, can you please shower? You smell..." she paused, "like the mystery meat in our old cafeteria."

She slammed the door and now I knew I was alone.

The phone rang.

"Hello?" I said.

"Uh, hello?" a voice shouted on the other line. Celeste. "What is the matter with you? I called your cell thirty times and there was no answer!" Seven times. "I texted you sixty million times, too!" Fourteen. "Why have you been AWAL?"

"Hi, Celeste, how are you?"

"Cut the crap, Peyton. The night after Graham's you ran out of my house like it was a concentration camp and you were the only Jew in the world."

"Quite racist, but okay."

"Whatever. My great, great, great grandfather or something was born black by mistake so that means I'm allowed to say racist stuff."

"So being black automatically makes you a Jew?"

"I'm not here for a pep talk. Look, if you're uncomfortable about the deal we made with the girls, I can call it off. You don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with. Okay? I can call Nadia —"

"Don't," I cut her off. I was sick of hearing Nadia's name. "This bet is the stupidest thing in the world. But if we back out now, it'll look like we're scared. I'm tired of not going through with what I say. What's the worst that can happen anyway? It's not like I'm going to invite hobos for a free bed and breakfast into my home. I'll screen the men, make sure they aren't pedophiles dressed up as attractive teenage boys and I will make sure they know how to spell their own names."

"Sounds like a winning bunch of candidates." I could picture her rolling her eyes over the phone. A couple moments of silence. "Okay, well, if you still are serious about this whole... whatever this is, then there is a meeting at Nadia's tonight to go over the official rules."

"What do we call this game anyway?"

Celeste chuckled, "The Virgin Wars."

*

Nadia's home was just as extravagant as she was. It was over-dramatic and over-indulgent, just like the Queen herself. It was the typical Californian Elite home. It was tall and wide, standing with might and ferocity, overlooking El Jolla beach. The balcony was the color of ebony and hugged the house.

Jealousy ebbed throughout me as Celeste drove up the long driveway.

"Peyton?"

The radio was now off and Celeste's vintage green Cadillac was parked next to a silver Honda. Celeste's eyes were wide in wonder and worry. The pink powder on her cheeks glowed in the setting sun. I watched the sky and decided that the sun looked like an etherized patient – lifeless and still. Nothing left to offer to the world; not a single drop of warmth or a ray of sunshine.