Chapter One: Meet the Virgin
Alison was finally free: eighteen years of hard work, concentration, saying “no” to parties, boyfriends, sex. Because she had a goal. She was driven. Here she was, the fruits of her labor finally materialized in the form of her freshman dorm room. The pink palette of youth gone. Replaced by a punk rock poster. French nudes (but tasteful) from Matisse. And her favorite thing in the world: an original poster print of Twilight. She knew it dated her, probably was unoriginal, maybe considered blasé or cutesy. She didn’t care. Edward could look at her from the ceiling for the next four years. HE would be her only indulgence because she had grad school to think of. Staying on the Dean’s list. Her advanced chemistry test next Friday. And getting into the choice sorority on campus. The Sigmas. Where in the next four years she’d climb the social ladder, become their president and this in turn would skyrocket her to the social clout she needed to get into her top tier college and--
“Earth to Alison. Yo. Are you gonna say it or what?” Erin smirked, in that devilish way.
“No Alison, I will not say that word.”
“But I dared you. That’s how the game works.”
“I don’t have time for games. I have that test Friday and then pre-calculus, and we both need to study the names and interests of all of the sorority sisters in Sigma is we even have a chance in getting into—”
“Cock. Say it. I double dog dare you.” Erin poked her. Then leaned in close to her ear.
“Cock. Member. Dick. Hard dick.”
“Will it get you to shut up?”
“Maybe”
Alison took a breath, closed her eyes, gathered her courage. “Penis.”
Erin erupted in laughter. “OH my god—you sound like my mom!” She continued to laugh. Snort. Face in pillow gasping. Alison, peeved, threw another pillow at her.
“I don’t get what the big deal is. Like so what if I can’t say it. So what if I’m a virgin. No one cares these days anyway.”
Erin picked her face up off of the pillow. Wiped the snot from her nose, “You’re right. No. You’re right. No one cares. But you deserve to know the joys of sex. Ew. God. Now I sound like my mother.”
“What joys? Have sex. Get a broken heart. Get an STD. Repeat. No thanks. Not for me. I didn’t get into college to see hot boys and their hot bodies. I have a mission. Get my BS degree, get into a sorority that will get me the connections I need to get into my choice Masters program, save the planet with my art and then yeah, maybe I’ll have sex.”
“Don’t—what? So you’re thirty in that scenario before you get laid?”
“Well, yeah, I guess so.”
“Then, I cannot wait for you to do rush week because those sorority girls don’t hold back. You know what they did to their last virgin?” Erin cocks and eyebrow. “Sex sacrifice.”
“You’re obsessed. Go get laid and leave me alone.”
“Get laid. With a penis.” She mocks Alison and throws the pillow at her.
“Le sigh. I want to do just that but I need you as my wing woman. At least get dressed up and walk by the Frat with me. Those guys are always working out outside and I need a dose of vitamin D. Plus they’ll have their shirts off. Plus—” Alison is back to her flashcards, memorizing sorority girl names, likes, and social status.
“Plus, I’ll help you study those names later if you come.”
“Really?!”
“Yes, but only if I get to pick out your outfit.”
Alison considers. “Okay, but only if it’s from my closet.”
“You drive a hard bargain Alison DeWitt, but fine. From your closet. Not the shoes though. Yours look like you got them from your grandmother.”
“Do guys really care about what I wear on my feet?”
“I mean, depends on the guy. I had a guy once who wouldn’t let me use my hands at all.” Erin touches her feet up Alison’s legs, prodding her.
“Erin, I don’t know if you’re joking or not. Are you joking?”
“It’s why I always have a pedicure.” Erin flips her hair and goes over to Alison’s closet.
“Now, do you own any mid riffs?”
“Gross, why?” “Alison, babe, because if you go out to ogle guys’ abs, then you got to give a little of yourself as well.”
“Okay. Then, maybe, and just this once, I’ll wear something from your closet’—” Erin shrieks with glee, “—BUT you have to help me with the flashcards for the sorority and my outfit to their initiation.” Erin is already digging in her closet and pulls out a skimpy skirt, crop top and—
“Absolutely not.”
“Absolutely yes.” Erin smirked again.
“No. I’ll break my neck wearing heels that high.”
“Yes.”
“Erin, I said—”
