The v Girl Page 3

  We rarely pay attention to Dad’s history lessons. Biology lessons are great, though. Azzy yawns loudly. Olmo hums happily. I make appreciative sounds while eating some carrots and a soy steak. No doubt a piece Olmo denied himself to have something to give me.

  “The troops wouldn’t consider stopping the mass rapes, so a compromise was achieved. Nats would pay the war costs and the right to live in occupied territories with hard labor, including sexual services. The Accord Units would check certain limits were respected, and so the recruitment ceremony was born.”

  I hate that my dad’s talking about this subject while I’m eating. Especially since there’s so little to eat.

  Begrudgingly, I save some carrots for later. Losing weight before recruitment might help to avoid rape. From the last time there was recruitment in this town to this moment, I’ve blossomed. Soldiers will take the curviest girls first and then underdeveloped girls and boys. My new womanly form isn’t as voluptuous as Elena’s, but it might provoke them. Hopefully, my body might stimulate Rey, too.

  Dad wraps up his lesson and prepares to leave. He usually has house calls in the afternoons. Or so he claims. Because in reality, dad’s job is to wait in line at the rationing board office and bring food to the tables. The way he says goodbye to Olmo makes it clear that Olmo is his favorite. I don’t mind because Olmo’s also my favorite. He’s even bitchy Azalea’s favorite.

  Azalea has developed a unique awareness and knows about my plans. She blocks my way to our shared room, brandishing a carrot. “Why don’t you just put this inside you and get it over with?”

  I sigh. I gave Elena Rivers a display of my patience some hours ago. A family member deserves no less than the same.

  “It’d be easier than trying to seduce Rey. He can have any girl he wants, and he keeps saying no, even to Elena. What makes you think he’d say yes to you?”

  “Mind your own business, Azzy.” She knows troops prefer V-girls, so she should be more supportive.

  “What difference would it make? You don’t want the troops to find you a virgin, right?”

  I cringe at the insult but don’t answer. Everything you say—and even what you don’t say—to Azalea can be used against you.

  She smiles wickedly. “You’re wasting your time by 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 to find what mom and dad had? Then get married? Then reproduce like a bunny?”

  She’s wrong. That was before they raped our mother. Now I shudder at the idea of love. Troops will hurt who and what I love the most. Dad lost the love of his life to the Patriot forces, and I won’t suffer like him. Love and marriage are out of my agenda until the day the war stops. But I can at least get lust, affection, and more importantly: mutual consent.

  Azzy’s green eyes look through me and read my mind. “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’s not enough men and the good ones are already taken.”

  “You didn’t even share your plans with Rey, did you? Are you gonna get him drunk?”

  If I give him a chance to think about it, he won’t do it. I have to play this by surprise. Appeal to his physiological needs. It’s been a while since Angie broke up their engagement. I can’t imagine Joey going a year without sex with Divine. Rey must need sex right now.

  I shake my head. “Who knows? Surprise might be the greatest aphrodisiac.”

  “Not for Rey,” she retorts.

  I shut my ears as she tries to convince me to desist in my schemes. I don’t respond; I let her rant for a while.

  “It won’t take long for you to get your period so you should be nicer to me,” I say acidly. “I won’t help you with Poncho when the time comes.”

  She gives me her trademark you’re-so-stupid look, sighing in exasperation.

  I snap my fingers and Poncho attacks Azzy’s leg.

  Azzy is unfazed. She knows how to deal with Poncho with dignity. Giving her a vindictive smile, I take advantage of the distraction to enter our room.

  * * *

  In front of the mirror, I peel off my wet clothes and take a long moment to stare at my naked figure. My skin color is uneven. It’s tanned in my arms and face. It’s pale in the rest of my body except for the soft pink area of my breasts. My hands touch my breasts and slide over my stomach, down to both of my hips. In spite of the training and limited diet, there’s unwelcome fat in certain body parts 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’ve never thought eyes could touch my body in that way. My hands slide over my body again, echoing the way his eyes did.

  Before my bath today, I couldn’t stop thinking about Rey. Now, remembering the naked cop, I’m in a weird mood. 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 at me.

  I’d love Rey to look at me that way today since desire is all I can expect from him. We care for each other immensely, but I don’t think either of us wants to have complications like love at the moment. I’m too busy trying to earn the bread I eat and hiding my tendencies. Rey’s the bread-earner in his family and the leader of The Comanche Resistance.

  I search in my box of treasures, or more exactly, the box where I keep my mom’s clothes and pictures. I don’t have sexy clothes. Mom’s old school uniform will have to do. Most girls my age don’t dress well. We bind our chests with bandages and wear long cloaks. Partly because the abrupt weather changes. Partly to prevent provoking someone with our bodies. It doesn’t always work. Rey’s ex-fiancée tried to avoid recruitment by hiding her beauty and getting a marriage tattoo. Even so, soldiers made a meal of raping her in public.

  I won’t wear my hideous bra. Instead, I button the white shirt, which is now tight to the chest in a way that enhances my breasts. Looking in the mirror, I knot the silky tie sides of the translucent underwear I’ve made for this occasion. It reveals enough to make me feel sexy but not so much as to embarrass me. If my plans work, his hands on my thighs will go up and reveal my legs and underwear; he won’t care too much for the rest of my outfit. The mechanics of the act shouldn’t be a problem. I’ve seen couples doing it.

  The girl in the mirror looks suddenly uncertain. My lack of experience at seduction and his integrity might ruin my plans. Rey’s a decent guy who might not take advantage of me. He spent years in a religious order where he got permission to wear the distinctive tattoo that spares him from recruitment. He slipped because of love. He might not slip for an emergency deflowering. If his decency wins, I won’t be able to face him again. I don’t have romantic feelings for him, but I don’t want to be rejected.

  I think Rey hasn’t been with anyone since his ex, but who knows? He hasn’t gone back to the seminary yet. He isn’t the kind of guy who goes for one night stands, but girls have tricks. Maybe I’m not the only one who thought of him for an emergency deflowering.

  I mold my hair carefully, hiding my prematurely gray strands among the light brown curls. It cascades down my waist in soft waves. What I see in the mirror after the final primping boosts my self-confidence. I’m not the standard Starviller beauty. Otherwise boys would turn their heads when I walk by. But I have enough self-esteem to like myself the way I was born in spite of what others think. I’m sure I’ll turn Rey on.

  After a last look at the mirror, I feel empowered by my resolution and let my fears go away. I’m taking my sexuality in my own hands. 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 can barely wait to have what—in my almost non-existent sexual expertis
e—has to be the best kind of sex there is.

  Consensual sex.

  Chapter 4

  The torch-lit room is empty except for the old, rusty gym equipment. Not the most romantic scenario for sex, but a least I can be sure soldiers won’t come. Years ago, the museum was the scene of thousands of beheadings, and now the soldiers think this place is haunted.

  I’m more afraid of the living. Dead people can’t rape me.

  There’s always the danger of Duque Diaz, Rey’s brother, coming here with his fiancée, so I improvise curtains on the cracked windows.

  I make sure there are mirrors near the gym mattresses where I’ll lose my V. I want to see how Rey deflowers me. I take my cloak off and lay on the mattress to test the old, cracked mirrors’ view.

  A girl like me, who has only been kissed once, 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 lay down, fantasizing about Rey’s dark eyes and Greek profile. 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. The fact I know he’s good at every discipline we learn here makes him more attractive. 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.

  He greets me with a contagious grin that illuminates his amber eyes. He never calls me Lila. “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 some 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 beautiful, so innocent. I can almost pretend Rey’s as inexperienced as I am. I observe him carefully as he puts some boxes on the floor. He notices 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 as kind as usual?

  Rey’s almost twenty-one. Aside from his job at the local factory, he carries heavy things in exchange for food. He’s a good hunter and rider. Those activities have only added to his muscles and allure. 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 him. Almost.

  We talk about the Accord Unit’s arrival and his grin disappears. He insults the Accord cops a little.

  “Why don’t Accord cops get hemorrhoids?” he asks while packing some provisions in a box. We always make silly jokes about soldiers and Accord cops.

  “Because they’re perfect assholes,” I say theatrically. I’m not at my wittiest, but he chuckles and visibly relaxes.

  “You hate them, don’t cha?” he asks. “They don’t sit well with me either.”

  Our laughter echoes the empty wooden walls. I haven’t seen him in such a good mood for a while. He’s been stressed out lately. I hope Rey’s stress will make him willing to find a momentary sexual escape from his problems.

  When he isn’t watching, I undo 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 have his bulky 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 have his weight on me, holding me down. I want to wrap my legs around his body. Let his hands and lips caress every single 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 take the sex route, I’ll invite him to walk that route with me. At the first sign of arousal, I’ll joke about me not having a problem if he wants sex. Then one thing could lead to the other.

  As we work to lower boxes to the basement, I make sure to brush my body against his whenever I can. It takes me a couple of failed tries, but this time I can tell he notices. He blushes and tenses, but so far it’s been me doing the touching. He doesn’t look as unaffected as 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’m getting desperate.

  Unnoticed by him, I cut myself a little on my thigh. When he sits next to 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 now on my body as he catches me.

  Rey inspects the thigh wound, grazing it with his fingers. The soft contact of his fingers with my skin sets my body on fire. Taking advantage of his closeness; I hug him as though I am scared. He’s sweaty, and even so, he smells so good.

  Rey tries to pull away, but I cling to him. “What …? Lily, what’s wrong?”

  I’m ashamed at myself for putting up an act. “I’m afraid.”

  Rey’s voice tone is soothing, sympathetic. “Of the recruitment?”

  I swallow hard. “Mostly.”

  He pulls me close in his arms, as though trying to protect me. “It will be alright.”

  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 aren’t eligible for seven years. Olmo might even skip recruitment because his ill health.”

  “They need me, Rey.”

  Rey understands. Troops won’t recruit him because his religious tattoo, but if I get recruited; my family won’t have enough to eat.

  “Is there anything I can do?” I hide my head on his shoulder and nod. I press my breasts harder against his chest. Every fiber of my body is buzzing with anticipation when I manage to press my pelvis firmly to his. Rubbing him, grinding against him.

  Finally, it happens. He gets hard. This is the signal I am waiting for.

  I grab his face to 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 kiss. Warren Rivers forced my first kiss on me at an early age. After that, no kisses at all. I might not be doing a good job since he isn’t moving his lips in response.

  I keep moving my lips around his mouth, trying to part his lips with mine, and when they finally open, I suck his lower lip and caress it with my tongue. I look at our reflection in the mirror. His eyes shot open in complete shock.

  He reluctantly pulls away. “Lily ... what … why …”

  I put my arms around him. A 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 being forced on me by the troops. You’re my only chance to have non-violent … sex.”

  Confusion shows all over his face. “It’d be wrong. You might think you want this, but you are still—”

  “A little girl? No, Rey. I’m not a little girl anymore.” I slowly undo my buttons, positively making him freeze. When I undo the last button, there’s a visible trail of skin from my neck to my waist, hinting the sides of my breasts in the view. My cleavage suggests my invitation: You can see it all. Kiss it all.

  He stands up, but not before I notice him giving me a furtive glance full of desire. He looks as though it’s taking all his strength to not move forward. Rey avoid
s my eyes, and his words seem to be more to convince himself than to convince me. “You’re not yourself, Lily. You don’t want them to recruit you, but you don’t want this either. I’d love to … give you what you want, but … I’d be harming you. I … I—”

  I close the gap between us and kiss him passionately again, running my hands all over his muscled chest. “It would hurt me more if you say no at this point.”

  Rey hardens even more and can’t hide it. I force him to sit on the mattress and put his hands on my waist, straddling him. In this position, my skirt displays the top of my thighs. Normally, I’m not so brazen, but the fear of the recruitment is dictating my actions.

  I wrap my legs around him so that my most private parts press against his erection. Very slowly, rhythmically, I move my hips in small circles, rubbing him.

  His body’s reactions tell me I’m affecting him. But he still hasn’t agreed entirely. Discomfort and uncertainty creep up on me. I want him to need this as much as I need him. I won’t continue if I don’t get his full acceptance. His pained expression speaks of his internal battle with his consciousness. I don’t have a way to know what he sees in my eyes, but something makes his darken with desire. His face becomes a determined, lustful mask.

  I lower my voice to a whisper, my lips caressing his. “Don’t feel like you’d be stealing something.”

  He finally kisses me back. His lips are urgent, but his arms are tremulous on my skin. He ventures a hand to my waist and slides it up while the other hand grabs the nape of my neck, pulling me closer. The way his mouth explores mine, the way he keeps rubbing his body against mine, all tells me that Rey’s finally surrendered. He’s completely given himself to me with each deep, passionate kiss.

  Rey takes off his shirt, and I gasp. A surge of passion runs through me at the sight of his muscular chest that is scarred by his religious tattoo. He forcefully encloses me in a tight embrace. We’re so close that my breasts are constricted against his bare chest, making my nipples hard and sensitive. The sounds of our moans are muffled by the sound of our mouths moving in harmony.