AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Yeah, yeah, logic was all well and good, but even a chastened brain can’t help but skip to fearful possibilities. What if they traced my number? What if it was the DA’s office on the other end of the line, ready to prosecute me for a crime I had only considered? What if it was just a prank?
Doubts looped in my head like wild steeds, trampling down any excitement I might have had at the proposition of theoretically getting out of major debt. Finally, finally there was a good use for my sexual purity, and I couldn’t even enjoy that.
My car, a 2003 red Jeep with balding tires and more than a few drunken scratches on the fender — thanks, Dad — was in a mercifully secluded part of the parking lot. No one would see my furtive call.
I manually unlocked the door and slid inside. The thick, warm air of the Jeep, with its familiar cinnamon smell, allowed me to take my first full breath. Ah. That was better.
The piece of paper in my hand trembled. I hadn’t realized I was shaking so hard. This felt like some kind of personal Rubicon. Once I crossed it, there was no going back, not in any way that really counted.
Nevertheless, I dialed.
It took one short ring before a voice on the other end picked up.
“Who gave you this number?” it asked. Stern, low, masculine. Otherwise, totally nondescript.
“A—Anaia.”
He paused. “Okay.”
He clearly wasn’t going to elaborate, so I replied, “She told me to call about the, uh… the auction. The virginity… one.”
Duh, Kiki, he already knows that. Nobody who answers a phone with ‘who told you about us’ has any doubts vis-à-vis what you’re looking for.
There was a longer silence, until at last he said:
“Full name?”
“Kiki Lake.”
“Full name.”
Jesus. “Kiki Mae with an E Lake.”
Probably wasn’t the most inspired idea, giving out my legal name to strangers, but it was too late to double back now.
“Place of employment?”
“Dazzlers. That’s how I heard about it, Anaia also—”
“I don’t need your whole story. Height?”
“Five-three.” That was a fudge — I was more like five-two, but I liked to throw myself an extra half-inch.
“Weight?”
“That’s a little personal.”
For the first time, he let out a small chuckle. “You’re about to sell your virginity to a stranger and you think asking about your weight is too personal?”
He made a good point.
“I’m one-fifteen.”
“Good. Age?”
“Twenty-one,” I listened for a reaction to me being that old and still a virgin, but there was only a brief pause.
“Body type?”
“Dude, would it be easier if I just sent you some pictures?” This was becoming exasperating.
“No,” he replied. “No pictures, pictures can be traced. We take your answers on faith, knowing that Anaia wouldn’t recommend anyone… below our standards.”
“Whatever. I’m kind of curvy.”
“Cup size?”
“30DD.”
“Hair and eye color?”
“Red and green.”
“Excellent,” he said, finally sounding satisfied with one of my answers. “We don’t get many red heads.”
“Glad to be of service,” I said. I felt a bit like I was floating above my body, like I wasn’t really answering his questions, that it was someone else with my voice.
“All right, that’s about all I need from you. Any payment, if the auction is successful, will be given to you in cash. We offer money-laundering services, for an additional fee, if you need some assistance with the, ah, size of the deposit.”
Money laundering? Fuck, what had I just gotten myself into?
He went on. “Be at RES at eleven on Friday night. Go to the back bar, tell the bartender you’re looking for a pink Bugatti. He’ll sort you out. In the meantime, get yourself waxed, threaded, tanned, dyed, mani-pedi-ed, whatever you have to do. I promise an investment on the front end will be worth it.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
Had I just agreed to this? It felt like we’d jumped from basic information to a terrifyingly tangible plan. And it was all happening so fast. Hell, it’d been just today that I’d learned about my father’s debt and even met Tate, and now I was talking about selling my body. As thoughts swirled in my head, I couldn’t seem to get a purchase on a single one.
“What if I have a question?” I asked. “Or change my mind?”
“Ask me any questions you have now. You can’t call this number again. And if you change your mind… well, let’s put it this way. The last girl who auctioned it off made sixty thousand, and by your self-description, you stand to make more. Women never change their minds. But by all means, if you do, simply don’t show up. However, should you choose not to go through with it, we won’t give you a second chance. Is that clear?”
“Yes.”
“So are you in?”
Shit, I was backed into a corner. Either I was in or out. I couldn’t call this number again. There were about two seconds in which to make a life-changing decision. I thought about my father, how despite all that he’d brought upon me, I’d do anything to save him. I thought about Tate, who I’d nearly let use me for sex. And I thought about, well, me. Who cares how you lose your virginity? It was a vapid patriarchal symbol, right? Thinking I would lose it to a man who loved me was just childish.
