I didn't plan to start college as a virgin.
Actually, I hadn't planned to finish high school as a virgin. Or to start my senior year as one... But I wasn't the type of girl that filled guys' heads with thoughts of sex. More like thoughts of, "Boy, I bet she can help me with my homework!" That's right: I was a class A, one hundred percent geek.
I wasn't ugly, at least I didn't think so. Though there were days I wished I could shave my head instead of fighting with my unruly hair. And I couldn't wait for the day I could afford contact lenses instead of my stupid round glasses. I had a decent figure, but with the fashion sense of a tree, I had no idea how to dress to accentuate it. Put simply, I was a mess. And so naturally, I started college as a virgin.
I woke up my first morning of college in the same bed I'd slept in for fourteen years. Yep, I was still living with my parents. They were overprotective, which was yet another reason I'd had no opportunity to lose my virginity, and my father had announced a year earlier that he didn't think I could "handle" dorm life until I was at least twenty. My feeling was that he just wanted to keep me a little girl for a while longer, but I hadn't argued. I never argued with my parents. Never mind that my older brother Randy had moved into his own apartment at eighteen. He wasn't me.
My classes were just as boring as my high school ones had been. Day after day was the same thing. Breakfast with my parents, a day of classes that put me to sleep, a few hours at the convenience store where I'd been working since my eighteenth birthday, and back home for supper with my parents. There were cute guys in some of my classes, but none gave me a second glance. Most didn't even give me a first.
One afternoon, I was alone at work when a creepy-looking guy came in. He looked around the store for a few minutes, then came up to the counter. "Give me what's in the register," he said.
He pulled a knife out of his pocket. "Give me what's in the fucking register! Now!"
Oh, god! I froze. My boss had drilled it into my head over and over: if someone tries to rob you, give them what they want. But now that it was time to put it into practice, I couldn't remember what he'd said.
The guy lunged across the counter and held the point of the knife against my throat. "Open the motherfucking register and give me the goddamn money!"
The door opened. "Put the knife away, you moron."
Startled, the robber jumped off the counter. "You an idiot or something?" he asked the customer. "I have a fucking knife!"
"You have a fucking problem." The customer held the door open. "Get the fuck out of here before I kick your ass."
"Who the fuck do you think you are?"
"I think I'm Jay Christian."
"Shit." The robber took one last look at me and bolted.
Jay Christian. Object of my first childhood crush. He'd graduated with my brother eight years earlier; they'd been friends until a fight over a girl split them up. Jay'd gotten the girl, as I recalled, along with plenty of others. He'd never paid attention to me, of course; I'd just been the little kid who tried to crash the conversations.
"Are you okay?" he asked me.
Now that the danger was over, I fell apart. Huge sobs erupted from my throat; I couldn't even answer Jay. He came around behind the counter and put his arms around me. "It's all right," he said softly. "You're safe."
"I- Oh, god, what if you hadn't come in?" I said. "He was going to stab me!"
"Nah, I know the guy. He's just a punk. He wouldn't have done anything; sooner or later someone would have scared him off. Or you'd have smartened up and given him the money like he asked." He studied me. "You're Samantha, right? Randy's sister?"
"Yes." I backed away from him and grabbed a piece of paper towel. I didn't really want him seeing me with tears and snot all over my face. "Sorry. I'm not usually like this."
"I'm sure you're not usually the victim of an attempted robbery. Where's your phone?"
"Phone. So I can call the police? Like I said, I know that guy. One call and he'll be picked up. You'll have to file a report and all that, but I'll stick with you till you're done."
Jay laughed. "You ask a lot of questions. Yes, I will. We go back a long way, Sam. Though you definitely have improved since you were nine."
I decided not to ask what he meant by that. "The phone's right here." I picked up the receiver and handed it to him. "I'm going to have to call my boss, too."
"No problem." Jay reached in front of me and dialed the phone. He didn't quite touch me, but he was so close I could feel his body heat. I leaned back. I'd just almost been robbed, for crying out loud! Now was not the time to renew a nine-year-old crush.
The police showed up while I was on the phone with my boss. My boss showed up soon after. I had to go through the whole story over and over while notes were taken and forms were filled out. By the time Randy showed up to give me a ride home from work- my parents, naturally, hadn't let me get my license yet- I wanted to collapse.
Randy ran into the store. "Sam? What happened?"
"Someone tried to rob the store," Jay replied. "Fortunately, someone else showed up and scared the creep off."
"You?" Randy eyed him suspiciously. "Why were you even here?"
"Um, it's a store. I came in to buy something." Jay squeezed my hand. "Hang in there, Sam. You did all right tonight. Talk to you soon." He winked at me and sauntered out.
Randy waited around while the police and my boss finished getting the information they needed, then walked me to his car. "What was that all about with Jay?" he demanded as he drove out of the parking lot.
"What was what all about?"
"Telling you he'd talk to you soon. Why was he even there?"
"Because he saved me from being stabbed!" I turned to stare out the window. "I don't get why you've held a grudge against the guy for so many years, but that doesn't mean I have to hate him too. If he hadn't come in when he did, I don't know what would have happened. And I hope he does talk to me soon."
"He's too old for you, Sam."
"No one's too old to be a friend."
"Yeah, and what I know about Jay Christian is he wouldn't only want to be your friend. The man's a complete pussy hound, always looking for the next lay. And he's into some other pretty nasty stuff, too. Drugs, for example. Stay away from him, Sam."
"He used to be your best friend."
"Yeah, almost ten years ago. Things change. People change. I mean it, Sam. I'll talk to Mom and Dad if you don't promise right now that you'll stay away from him."
Typical. Randy was twenty-six years old and still acted like a child. "Do what I say or I'll tell," I mocked.
"I'm not messing around, Sam."
I knew he wasn't. He was just as overprotective as my parents. "Okay, fine. I promise."
"Good. See that you keep it."
"I will, as long as you promise not to tell Mom and Dad what happened tonight. I need to earn my own money, Randy. They'd make me quit the job if they heard about this."
"I won't say anything. They need to let you grow up sometime."
"So do you."
"Maybe so, but not with Jay Christian."
* * *
My parents didn't notice anything unusual when I got home that night, and Randy kept his word to keep his mouth shut. I went to work every day hoping that Jay would come into the store again, but days went by and I didn't see him.
Then, on an afternoon that I had off, I was walking home and a car stopped beside me. "Hey, Randy's little sis!" the driver called.
I grinned. That was what Jay had always called me when I was a kid, as though he couldn't remember my real name. I ran over to the open passenger-side window of the car and leaned in. "Long time no see!"
"Been busy." Jay pushed the unlock button on his door. "Get in. I'll give you a ride home."
I opened the door and got in. Jay pulled away from the curb. "I hope you remember the way," I said.
"I do." Jay looked at me out of the corner of his eyes. "Have you ever thought about getting contacts?"
"All the time. That's one of the reasons I'm working at the store. My parents won't buy them for me, so I'm saving up."
"You'd look good with them. Take off your glasses and let me see."
I took them off and turned to face him. "Well?"
"Damn, you've grown up! You're a sexy girl, Sam. You definitely need to lose the glasses. And get something done with your hair."
"Yeah, I wish I could." I squirmed a little in my seat. Jay Christian was calling me sexy?
"Tell you what. When's your next day off?"
"I know a woman who does an amazing job with makeovers. I'll take you to see her."
I wasn't supposed to have anything to do with Jay Christian. Randy would flip if he knew I was even riding in the guy's car, never mind thinking about seeing him over the weekend. I didn't want to say that, though; then I'd really sound like a geek. "I can't afford a makeover either, Jay."
"My treat. It'll be worth it to see how gorgeous you look when she's done. You aren't giving yourself enough credit, from the looks of things."
"I can't let you do that. Makeovers are expensive."
"It won't be that much. The woman owes me some favors. So where should I pick you up Sunday? Somehow I don't think your house would be the best idea."
"No, my parents wouldn't- " I stopped myself. "Meet me at the library."
"Perfect. I'll pick you up at ten Sunday morning." He turned the corner onto my street. "And I'll drop you off here so your parents don't find out you've been riding with an older man." He winked at me and popped the door lock.
Two days later, I made a vague excuse about homework to my parents and walked the few blocks to the library. Jay was already parked at the curb. "I wondered if you'd actually show up," he said.
"I can't turn down a free makeover." I got into the passenger seat. "Where is this place?"
"Next town over. The woman's, shall we say, a friend of mine. I've already talked to her about you; she's ready."
"So am I. I think."
"You'll be fine. Wait till you see how hot you look when she's done with you. You'll just have to figure out a convincing story for your parents."
"I'll think of something." Though I had no idea how I'd explain a new haircut and makeup. They knew how much I made at the store.
On the drive, neither of us talked much. Being around Jay Christian had always made me a little tongue-tied, and things hadn't changed. I didn't even really understand why he was doing this for me. Sure, when he and Randy had been friends, Jay had treated me like I was his own younger sister- and a pest- but after nine years, he had no reason to do anything for me.
We pulled into the driveway of an old, run-down Victorian house. "This is it," Jay said. "Time for Tillie to work her miracles."
We were met at the door by a woman in her thirties. Her hair was died white-blonde and stuck up in spikes all over her head. "So this is your new friend, huh, Jay?" she said.
Jay hugged her and kissed her on the lips. I caught a glimpse of her tongue licking his mouth and swallowed a surge of jealousy. "Tillie, this is Samantha St. Pierre," Jay said. "Sam, this is Tillie Roper. She'll be your consultant today."
Tillie laughed. "Consultant, huh? Well, I've been called worse. Come on in. Jay, got some movies you might be interested in while I work on your sweetheart here."
"I'd rather watch her transformation, actually." Jay hung up his coat. "I want to see every step of what you do to her."
"I won't be able to do much while you're watching."
"That's why I'm going to watch."
I didn't understand what either of them meant, but I had no problem with Jay staying close while Tillie worked on me. Something about her made me very nervous, and I didn't want to be alone with her.
She led us into a room that contained a sink, a hairdresser's chair, and various other styling paraphernalia. "Have a seat, sweetie," she said to me, gesturing to the chair in front of the sink. "First step is to wash that mop of yours. Then I can see what I have to work with. What am I doing with you, anyway?"
"Making her look like a sexy young woman instead of a little girl," Jay said.
"If I'm doing that, the clothes and glasses have to go too."
"We'll work on that another time. Though if you have a spare outfit lying around that Sam could borrow for the day after her beauty treatment, that would be nice."
"Uh huh." Tillie started the water. "I take it you have plans."
"Oh, I definitely have plans," Jay said.
His voice hit me in the pit of the stomach. What kind of plans? I was suddenly scared, but also excited. This was the second time Jay had called me sexy. Could he really think that about me?
As Tillie tilted me back in the chair to shampoo my hair, my mind wandered. What if Jay thought I was so beautiful after this that he kissed me? What if he did more than just kiss? Would I let him? Mmm, his arms around me, lips against mine... A tingling began between my legs, and I knew that whatever plans Jay had, I would go along with.
I lost complete track of time while Tillie worked on my hair. When she finally turned me toward a mirror, I didn't recognize the girl who looked back at me. My long, tousled hair had been cut to shoulder length, layered and smoothed to make me look like a woman in a magazine. Without my glasses, my eyes were visible and beautiful. "Do you like what you see?" Tillie asked.
"It's wonderful!" I said.
But she wasn't asking me. Jay stepped beside me and appraised my reflection. "It's perfect. Now makeup."
"I never wear makeup," I said.
"Well, you should start, sweetie," Tillie said. "It'll bring out those gorgeous eyes of yours and make your cheeks less pale. Stay right here; I'll pick out what you need."
"And get that dress you were going to lend her," Jay said.
"Did I say I was going to lend her a dress?"
"No, I did."
Tillie laughed. "You're going to owe me big-time, Jay."
"You know I always pay my debts, Tillie." Jay planted another kiss on her. His hand went to her boob and squeezed it. Again, jealousy surged in me, but I had no right to be jealous. It wasn't like Jay and I were dating or anything.
Tillie left the room and returned with a makeup case and an emerald green halter dress. The kind of dress I'd never worn. The kind my parents would shoot me for wearing. "Here, put it on before I do your makeup," Tillie said, holding the dress out to me. "Otherwise you might smudge."
I took the dress. "Where can I change?"
"Right here," Jay said.
I stared at him. He had to be joking. He looked back at me with no expression on his face. If he was joking, he was hiding it very well.
"There's nowhere else for you to change," Tillie said. "Don't worry, sweetie. You're among friends here. What do you do when you fuck your boyfriend, undress in the dark?"
"I don't have a boyfriend," I mumbled. "I never have."
"You're a virgin?" Tillie laughed. "Oh, boy, Jay baby, you have your work cut out with this one!"
"Shut up, Tillie." Jay put his hands on my shoulders. "Do what you're comfortable with, Sam. If you don't want to change, don't. I'd love to see you in this dress, but it's fine if you'd rather stick with what you had on."
"I don't know if the dress will even fit me." Though if it did, it would look amazing on me. Green was my best color; I knew that much even if I didn't know anything else about how to dress.
"Only way to find out is try it on," Tillie said. "Go ahead, sweetie. We won't peek, I promise."
I didn't believe her for a second. I'd never changed my clothes in front of anyone; in the girls' locker room at school, I'd always gone into a stall to change. But Tillie's attitude annoyed me. She was making fun of me, acting like I was a little girl. I took the challenge and stripped off my shirt and jeans. "Damn, girl, I didn't think you had it in you!" Jay said.
"Nice body," Tillie said. "I can't believe you haven't gotten any yet, Samantha."
"Boys don't notice me." I pulled the dress over my head. It fit perfectly, except for my bulky bra showing at the top. "What do I do about this?"
"Take off the bra," Tillie said. "You don't need it with that dress. And as for boys not noticing you, maybe that's because you need a man, not a boy."
"That's just what I was thinking." Jay ran his hand down my back and over my ass. I shivered. "See how beautiful you look, Sam?" he said. "Just get rid of that bra and let Tillie do your face, and you'll put any model to shame."
I stood there for a moment, trying to figure out how to take off the bra without Jay and Tillie seeing my boobs. Them seeing me in my bra and panties was one thing, but bare skin? But there didn't seem to be any way to get the bra off without taking off the dress first, so I did.
Before I could unfasten my bra, Jay did it for me. He slid the straps off my shoulders and let the bra fall to the floor. "Beautiful tits, Sam," he whispered in my ear. "I want to touch them. Can I?"
I froze. Jay wanted to touch me? Here, in front of Tillie? No one had ever touched my boobs; hell, no one had ever seen them before. I wanted to feel Jay's touch, but I didn't dare to say so. What kind of girl would that make me?
"She's too much of a goody two-shoes, Jay," Tillie said. "Look at her. You're scaring the hell out of her."
"I'm not a goody two-shoes," I snapped. "I don't let just anyone put their hands on me, that's all."
"But you'll let me, won't you?" Jay's hands moved up to cover my boobs. "You've grown up so sexy, Sam," he said. "You have the hottest body I've seen in a long time." He caressed my boobs, and I moaned. "Those guys who ignored you don't know what they missed," he said softly. "But that's okay. Just means I get to teach you everything you need to know."
"What do you mean, teach me?"
His touch gave me the answer I needed, but I wanted to hear him say it. I'd fantasized about a man touching me, kissing me, making love to me, but I'd never imagined how my body would respond to just a simple touch. Well, maybe not so simple. But seeing myself in the mirror with Jay behind me, his hands on me, feeling his touch, made me wet.
"Teach you." Jay kissed my neck. "Sex, Sam. You're a beautiful, sexy woman, and I'm willing to bet your parents have never even let you go on a date. You're eighteen now. Time to grow up. I know you always liked me. Let me be your first."
"He'll be your first for more than you can think of," Tillie added.
"Shut up, Tillie," Jay snapped. "Sam?" He lightly pinched my nipples. "What do you say?"
I wanted to say yes. I wanted to feel his hands all over me. I wanted to find out what sex was really like, after years of hearing other girls gossip about it. But was I really ready? Especially with someone like Jay Christian?
"She won't say yes," Tillie said.
"Yes, I will." Damn it, the woman really rubbed me the wrong way. I turned to face Jay. "Is that what this was all about? The makeover and everything? Because you want to scr- to fuck me?" I used the f-word on purpose, to prove I wasn't as scared and innocent as they thought.
"Because I think you deserve to look beautiful," Jay replied. "And yes, because I want to fuck you. If you'll let me."
"Aw, that's got to be the sweetest proposition I've ever heard out of your mouth, Jay," Tillie said. "Where are the roses?"
Jay let go of me and smacked Tillie's butt. Hard. "I said shut up, Tillie. So help me, if you want what I promised you in return for this, you'd better stop hassling her."
"Ooh, I think Jay's after more than just a fuck." Tillie started sweeping up the hair she'd cut off me. "I guess you don't need the makeup after all, sweetie. Or the dress. From the sound of things, all you need is a bed."