Virtuous(9)

“I really am.”

“You soooo have to do him.”

“I am not doing him. I already told him that.”

She moans loudly. “Natalie, honestly. You’re going out with the hottest guy on the f*cking planet. If you won’t have sex with him, I will.”

“You know my feelings about that.” I made what I now know to be a mistake of epic proportions when I told my new friend and roommate I wouldn’t have sex with any man unless I’m married to him. I haven’t told her—or anyone—the reason for my vow. I have a good reason, but it’s my business and mine alone. What she doesn’t need to know is that by telling men I’m saving myself for marriage, I save myself the bother of sex, which is exactly the way I want it. She has mocked me endlessly, so much so that I finally told her to shut up about it or I would never tell her another thing ever.

She shut up about it, but she hasn’t forgotten. “This is no time for rigid virtue, Nat. This is the time to cut loose and have some fun that you’ll remember for the rest of your life.”

“It’s not happening. I know you find my beliefs ridiculous, but they’re important to me.”

“They’re not ridiculous,” Leah says with a sigh. “They’re admirable.”

I roll my eyes at her because I don’t believe for a second she means that.

“They are admirable, and I’m not making fun of you. I swear I’m not. It’s just… They might be slightly… unrealistic. That’s all.”

“Maybe so, but I’m not changing my mind or my values just because a famous actor asked me out. If I change who I am for one night, who will I be tomorrow?”

Leah puts her hands on my shoulders and looks me dead in the eye. “You’ll still be you. You’ll just be you having been done by Flynn Godfrey.”

She’s so sincere and so imploring that I bust up laughing, which she doesn’t appreciate.

“Mark my words. You’ll look back in ten years, when the cherry has been popped and you’re stuck with the one guy you’ll get to have sex with for your whole life, and say to yourself, ‘I so should’ve listened to Leah and f*cked Flynn Godfrey when I had the chance.’”

I put my hands over my ears, pretending I can’t hear her.

“I’m writing the date down so I can remind you of this conversation in ten years.”

“I’ll look forward to that, but for now I need to figure out what I’m going to wear. Are you going to help me or what?”

“Will you please, for the love of God and all that’s holy, wear ‘just in case’ underwear underneath?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Ugh,” she sighs, “you’re ridiculous, but I’ll help you anyway.”





At four o’clock, the buzzer sounds from the lobby with a delivery that Leah goes down to get. She returns carrying the most incredibly gorgeous purple orchid in an equally beautiful ceramic pot.

She hands me the card. “As if there’s any doubt, it’s for you.”

I feel foolish as I take the card from her, because my hands feel shaky as I open the envelope.

Enjoyed meeting you and Fluff this morning. Looking forward to dinner. FG

“What does it say?” Leah is jumping around trying to see over my shoulder, so I hand the card to her.

“Oh my God! That’s so romantic!”

Granted, it’s nice of him to send me such a beautiful plant—that I haven’t the first clue how to care for—but romantic? I don’t know if I’d go that far.

“Isn’t it romantic?” Leah’s excitement is starting to grate on my nerves. It’s just dinner. I can’t figure out why she’s making such a big deal out of it.

“Sure,” I reply, because it’s easier than getting into another debate with Leah about why I’m not wired the way other women our age are. I stopped being like other people my age when I was fifteen. That’s when someone I trusted stole my youth and innocence. But I’m not thinking about that today. If I allow myself to think about that, I’ll never be able to get my act together in time for Flynn’s arrival. I’ve made not thinking about that into an art form, and I’ve learned the hard way what happens when I allow the darkness to intrude on my new life.

By six thirty, I’m a total disaster. I’ve spent all afternoon with Leah, primping and preparing, and I hate the way my hair looks, my makeup is awful, and I’m almost out of time.