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Chapter Three

Vivienne

A fter browsing a stationary store, a small charm bracelet boutique, and the most adorable shoe store, Brooke stops me outside, putting her hands on my shoulders. People push past us on the sidewalk, but Brooke is unfazed, her big blue eyes idling on mine.

“We need to talk,” she says, feeling like my best friend, not a girl I met just hours ago.

I hold her wrists, giggling. “What?”

Her eyes drop down to my cardigan, moving over my gold cross, down my white tank top to my jean capris. Lastly, she glares at my white sneakers.

“What?” I ask. She looks up at me.

“No offense, Viv,” she says, already using my nickname. “But you’re dressed like an uptight Christian girl going to a spelling bee. Okay? We gotta get you some new clothes. ”

I pinch the cashmere sweater, lifting it from my chest. “This is cashmere. It’s gorgeous.”

Brooke nods. “Yes. It’s gorgeous. And you know what it pairs well with? Virginity .”

My face falls slack, and I look down at my sweater, then peer at my white Keds, finally looking back up at Brooke a moment later. “I– well, I– it’s–” I can’t find a response. I don’t know what to say. I’ve always dressed like this.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, her jaw splitting in two as she gapes at me. “You are a virgin, aren’t you?”

I don’t need to see a mirror to know that my face is cherry red right now. “Yes,” I say, forcing my chin off my chest. Being a virgin is nothing to be embarrassed about, so I hold my head high. Or, highish.

Brooke, with her long chestnut hair and wide eyes, smiles at me, smoothing her hands down my arms. She’s wearing eyeliner and lipstick, with silver hoops hanging from her ears.

I glance in the window of the store we’re standing next to, seeing our reflections.

We’re the same age. Both eighteen, entering our last year of high school.

But she looks twenty, and I look twelve.

Reaching out, I trace the silver hoop in her ear and smile. “Make me over.”

She squeals. “Okay, do you have a credit card?”

I nod. “Yes, and my dad already offered to buy me a new wardrobe. You know, the guilt of moving has him offering lots of things.”

Brooke dances her eyebrows. “What a sweet DILF,” she grins.

“You have to stop calling him that.” I reach into my purse, and pull out my phone, shooting dad and Maribel a text message.

Been walking the shops. Going to do some serious clothes shopping now. Will text later.

My dad replies right away.

Have fun. Love you.

Love you too.

I stash my phone away. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Two hours later, I have seven shopping bags loaded full of mini skirts, cutoff denim shorts, tank tops, wedge sandals, long necklaces, hoop earrings, skater dresses and even a few cute bikinis.

Brooke even convinced me to change out of what she affectionately labeled by “librarian outfit” into something new.

I opted for the blue and white gingham sundress with the ruched corset bustier.

With a bigger chest, I’ve not worn a lot of tight tops or fitted blouses, and I’ve never worn anything like this before.

Brooke assures me that I look hot as hell, but I can't help but glance down every few seconds to make sure my areolas aren’t greeting the world.

When I catch a glimpse of myself in a store window, though, I feel beautiful.

I realize now that showing off parts of my body is more about making myself feel good than anything else.

I liked the cardigans, but they didn’t make me feel beautiful the way this dress does. I think all the clothes Brooke helped me pick out will feel that way when I wear them. Empowered. Grown up.

Brooke glances at her watch. “It’s dinner time. Wanna get food? There’s a really good crab place around the corner. Some of my friends are meeting there later. I can introduce you.”

I nod. “That sounds great, let me just ask my dad.” I lower all my bags to the sidewalk, and snatch my phone from my purse.

Brooke gives me that look again, wiggling her brows. “Tell him I said hi,” she says, pursing her lips seductively.

“You really have to stop. That’s so gross,” I tell her, while typing out a text message.

Do you guys mind if I eat dinner with Brooke?

“Where do you want to take me?” I ask her, knowing dad and Maribel will ask if I don’t tell them.

“Arcane’s,” she replies, working on her own text message, her fingers flying over her phone screen.

Arcane’s is the name of the restaurant. Brooke says they have amazing crab.

Maribel replies first.

Arcane’s is great. I recommend the crab and shrimp etouffee.

Dad

Have fun.

I look up at Brooke. “I’m in.”

She smirks, stashing her phone away. “Perfect. And it turns out, there’s a party on the beach tonight. Nothing crazy, just a few friends, and some friends of friends. We always have a beach bonfire before school starts.”

“That sounds fun,” I tell her, but nerves twist in my belly. I don’t know if my dad will let me spend the entire day and dinner with Brooke, and then go to a party, too. He really likes to know my friends before he lets me truly do things with them, and a party may be pushing it.

“Why do you look like you have a UTI right now?” Brooke asks, uncapping a tube of lipstick she pulled out of one of her shopping bags. She rolls the purple color onto her lips, and it looks incredible.

“I just don’t know if my dad will let me.

I mean, in California, I didn’t really go to a lot of parties.

At all. I was planning to do the whole party thing my senior year, but we left before I could.

” I chew the inside of my mouth, considering my options.

I really want to go with Brooke. I’m having so much fun.

I don’t want to lie to dad and Maribel–that’s not a good start to my year in Bipal.

But I want to have fun. “Will there be boys there?” I ask, embarrassment coloring my neck.

She grins, ear to ear, stashing her lipstick away. “Hell yes, girl.”

I don’t want to lie, but if I ask and he says no, then it’s done. But if I tell him we’re doing something slightly less nefarious, he’ll be more likely to say yes. I’m not going to do anything bad.

It’s a tough choice, but when I look up at Brooke, eyes wide and brimming with excitement, I make a choice .

One little white lie won’t hurt.

After dinner, Brooke invited me to see her house. Can I go check out her place?

“What’s your address?” I ask, wanting to supply every piece of information I can.

“5584 Starfish Blvd,” she replies, “why?”

“Because,” I say, typing the address out in the text message. “I’m telling my dad that I’m going to your place after dinner, and he will want the address.”

She smirks. “Devious little thing, I love it!”

Dad and Maribel write back right away.

Dad

I will pick you up at nine o’clock.

Maribel

We will pick you up when you text us. Have fun, Vivienne.

I tuck my phone away, guilt burning in my veins. I’ve never lied to dad, but as we round the corner and come upon Arcane’s and Brooke waves a table full of handsome boys, I forget pretty quickly.