The v Girl (6 page)

That doesn’t mean I won’t think about him when I go to bed.

* * *

Rey
and Aleksey are naked in bed with me. While Rey’s mouth possesses the rest of my body, Aleksey’s monstrous erection breaks through my V. Mournful, low-pitched music plays insistently as pleasure runs hot through every single inch of my skin.

In the darkness of my new room, I wake up feeling a throbbing, moist sensation between my legs. The dream was so vivid that I feel the warmth of Rey’s mouth all over my skin, and I keep hearing a somber tune. It takes me some minutes to remember I’m here in the aftermath of Midian’s destruction.

Dad has said all the patients have been transferred to hospitals. The soldiers and the medical staff have gone with them. If the clinic is deserted, where does this barely audible music come from? It’s not part of my dream; it comes from somewhere nearby.

In an attempt to forget the dream, I look out the window, and a peculiar sight catches my eye. In the middle of the dimly lit helipad is a group of tall, attractive women, chatting with some Patriot soldiers.
Under their long open coats they wear short, orange unitards. I recognize that uniform. These women are visitants.

They look plastic, well-groomed, and not at all like recruitment victims. They are evidently Patriot citizens, voluntarily serving the army. They must be waiting for the helicopter after having given their services.

One of the soldiers points to a room above his head, not far from where I’m spying. The most beautiful of the visitants, a curvy long-haired brunette, climbs a scaffold to get there and knocks.

Nobody opens the door for an eternity, but the visitant is insistent.

The music has stopped. I crane my neck to get a better view. When the door finally opens, I’m not at all surprised to see Aleksey scowling. He holds a double bass bow in his hand. She smiles, evidently pleased with her “client’s” good looks and enters the room.

When his door closes, I decide I’ve seen enough. I return to my cot, fighting the anguish that runs through me. After recruitment, I can end up giving unpaid visitant services. As a vassal.

The music doesn’t resume the rest of the night. Moans and muffled screams have replaced it.

In the morning, as soon as I’m forced to face the grim reality of my life, last night’s dream disappears into oblivion. But if my mind forgets the dream, my hormones don’t.

I need an escape.

Chapter
7

Divine and Joey glue their
mouths together with slow, deep, passionate kisses. He pulls her closer, wrapping her tight in his strong arms. She’s naked under her camisole. His hands cup her butt, overflowing with her dark flesh. The sounds of their mouths mix with the sounds of the forest.

It’s been two days since the air raid. I’ve been so busy with the pills that I haven’t engaged in my favorite occupation.

There’s a French word for people who do what I do.

I’m a voyeur girl. Sort of.

No, I don’t spy on people against their will.

No, I don’t get a kick from watching through peepholes.

No, I won’t ever observe someone in the privacy of their homes.

What about when they have sex in the wild, knowing anyone can watch? On those occasions, I enjoy the show and feel no guilt about it. The glade where Divine and Joey always make a show out of their love is an almost perfect circle of old trees surrounding grass and orange flowers. Why should I say no to their invitations?

I’ve come to terms with this part of my personality. I’m not hurting anyone, and I need a distraction from the horrors around me.

Yes, I’m a girl with certain tendencies. Or some might call them perversions. I’m a V-girl with a kink. But when I think about myself as a V-girl, the
V
is for voyeur instead of sexually inexperienced, and I don’t hate it at all. Better a voyeur girl than—
ugh
!—a virgin.

So when the Comanches call me V-girl, I like to pretend they call me voyeur girl.

The biracial couple stands on a patch of grass and orange flowers, their cloaks long forgotten. I sit
with
my
knees
right
up
to my chin
,
behind a bush full of orange-colored flowers. I’m not hiding from them, but I don’t want anybody else to see me peeping.

Joey always forgets I’m around. When he’s with Divine, the whole world stops existing for him. With trembling hands, as though this is his first time, Joey removes her camisole, leaving her completely naked. Her enormous breasts, round hips, and even her marriage tattoo are a beautiful sight. Joey’s eyes travel down her body with a mix of reverence and desire. Eager lips go sensually from her neck to her breast, and then to her firm stomach. His muttonchops caress her bared skin.

He kneads her breasts carefully with adoration, and then presses them together with his hands. It makes them look bigger. He sucks each nipple and carefully pinches one of them between two fingers, rolling it slowly. She moans and shivers. He kisses her neck, his lips traveling down until he kneels on the soft grass. She arches her body and puts one of her legs on his shoulder.

I sigh contently. I love to see the power she has over him. Joey isn’t tall or handsome. He has rough features and at thirty-six, he’s starting to lose his sandy brown curls. But he’s got strong arms and the remarkable skill of never leaving a single piece of his woman untouched. He’s the one I like to watch. His complete devotion to Divine, the way his face contracts from a combination of passion and love. I’m sure he’d give his life for her.

The flapping tongue under her makes her squeal, and each squeal makes him grunt. Pleasing her turns him on; he’s so aroused. When she comes, his face is full of love, joy… and her fluids. He grins. He loves giving her happiness.

She bends her body putting her palms in the grass, and he enters her from behind. Her hips meet his thrusts. The muscles between my legs contract when I watch the way her breasts bounce with each thrust.

I’m unconsciously biting my thumb softly. These voyeuristic sessions are the most liberating experiences in my life. I wouldn’t change them for anything in the world. Except peace and food.

Divine enjoys long sessions from time to time, but lately, Joey has been trying to demonstrate his lasting capabilities. She evidently enjoys his pounding, but she isn’t impressed by his ability to delay his orgasm. After another twenty minutes, Divine loses her patience. She gets down on her knees and takes him into her mouth.

Joey grunts and quivers. His mouth forms a perfect
O
when he explodes. I guess if Divine doesn’t swallow, the fluid will go straight in her eyes. I watch her face, gauging her reaction. I don’t think his semen is tasty, but for her lover, she makes it look as though it’s the most delicious thing she’s ever swallowed.

When they cuddle in their after-sex bliss, I feel envy corroding my veins. I wish someone loved me like Joey loves her.

A noise comes from some trees behind me startling me, but when I turn, knife in hand, I see nothing.

Divine’s eyes travel toward my hiding place, and she smiles. She always seems to expect a standing ovation. Joey’s so lost in his adoration for her that he never looks my way.

When I start my way back toward the clinic, Divine shouts after me. “You! V-girl! Stop ditching meetings. Today at five p.m.”

No way. I’d die if the group found out about my pathetic attempt to seduce our leader. I’m working out on my own.

Walking up toward the town I wonder why Divine and Joey keep doing this. I guess it’s because they can’t get married. It doesn’t help that her ex-husband left her after the troops raped her. She can’t get a new marriage tattoo. She’s African, and he’s Caucasian. The mixing of races is still prohibited in Starville. They aren’t even allowed to live together because biracial kids like me aren’t welcome.

Maybe if I hadn’t seen the soldiers violating my mother, I wouldn’t be a voyeur. Her attacker’s faces haunt me at night. Perhaps I like to watch consensual sex to erase the attack from my mind.

Distracted by all these gloomy thoughts, I forget to watch my steps. That’s when I notice someone else is in the clearing.

He emerges from the woods, near the spot where I was hiding. I can’t decipher his cryptic expression. I doubt he could watch the show but for sure he noticed
me
watching.

Of all people, why him? He unnerves me. Aleksey resembles one of my mother’s attackers. He’s seen me naked. Now he’s seen another very private part of me. Then I remember who he is. A corrupted, drunk, Accord cop—an ex-soldier most likely with a history of raping. Who’s he to judge me? It’s they who should feel ashamed. Cops do little to defend recruits. Compared to that, my little tendency to watch is nothing.

I take a breath and meet his stare with defiant eyes before turning my back on him. I can feel his stabbing gaze as I put distance between us.

I have many other things to worry about. The train railway will take five more days to repair. I hope I’ll still have a job by the time they’re done. In the meantime, there’s plenty to do. The Assumption feast committee will pay me to make Mother Mary’s clothes, and Dad has found a way to work on his pills again. The whole of the Velez family, even Poncho in his guardian role, take part in the fabrication of the pills.

I cross town with Aleksey just some feet behind me. I won’t jump to the conclusion that he’s following me. They need him at the clinic. Just in case, I take a detour.

My father, as I’ve predicted doesn’t get any payment. Even so, he works as though they’re paying him a fortune.
I haven’t seen him so enthusiastic in a long time. Besides my father and two local cleaning ladies, the clinic has a rotating staff. Most of the time, my family has the clinic to themselves. Nurses and doctors come and leave as soon as the wounded soldiers are stabilized and sent to a bigger hospital. But when there are soldiers around, I don’t leave my family alone and make sure the twins remain hidden.

Accord cops are supposed to supply vaccines and run tests at the clinic for Starvillers, but mostly they drink on Starville streets. They only come to get papers signed by Aleksey and receive orders from him. Aleksey and Tristan spend a lot of time at the clinic assisting in every way they can, though. Dad is delighted to have two guys around who listen to his medical expertise.

Sweaty after the long walk, I arrive at the clinic and immediately search for my family. I find Azzy making pills in an empty examination room. She’s ditched the dull philosophy lesson. We work on the pills and the hours pass amicably.

The soft music coming from Aleksey’s room is relaxing. Sometimes, Aleksey’s shuts himself in to play his double bass, and no cop or soldier dares to interrupt him. Whenever Olmo corners Aleksey, the cop listens patiently—wearing his perpetual solemn face—and answers Olmo’s endless questions in nods and grunts. Because of that I don’t hate him as much as I should. I’m not always so patient with Olmo myself.

One day I overheard Olmo asking him, “Why you don’t talk, Mr. Prince Aleksey?” Aleksey tore a piece of paper from his journal, scribbled something, and handed him the note. Olmo grinned and regarded Aleksey with admiring eyes. “Cool!”

Olmo showed me the note later. Only four words:
I don’t want to.

But when Elena Rivers, using a seductive tone, asked the same question while Aleksey was busy checking his j-device, she received a different response.

“An experiment,” he said curtly.

“Ooh! I love experiments,” she purred. “What kind of experiment?”

He showed her the time in his j-device chronometer. “To see how long it would take an insufferable, nosy idiot to ask me about it.”

Elena looked affronted. She’d been so nasty to my dad that day that I felt vengeful. Since then, Elena’s recovered well. She comes to the clinic often, still trying to get in his pants. He’s always rudely indifferent to her flirting attempts, but Elena doesn’t take the hint.

Living so near to an ex-soldier scares me but his neutrality makes my family trust him. Neutrality defines Aleksey; I can’t notice if he favors one band or the other. He gives the same care to all the injured soldiers no matter whether they’re Nats or Patriots. And at the same time, it’s as though he doesn’t care for anybody.

“Well, he has to be nice to Patriot soldiers if they keep him fed. He eats a lot,” says Azzy with her uncanny ability to read faces, hearts, and minds.

“Weird. Ex-soldiers barely eat.” That’s another desired effect of the tonics they take to build their muscles.

“He must have stopped taking the tonics after he left the army. Otherwise, he couldn’t drink alcohol.”

“Those aren’t normal muscles. If he’s stopped drugs why is he so built?”

She stops mixing the ingredients to stretch her arms. “Because he trains every morning. Shirtless.”

I look out the window. This room has a magnificent view of the staircase and the mountains beyond Starville. “You’ve been paying attention to him.” Well, as have every other female in Starville.

Azzy shrugs. “There aren’t many things to do around here. Maybe that’s why he’s always scribbling stuff in a leather-bound notebook. I suspect he’s writing music.”

She stops talking and stares greedily when Aleksey appears in our frame of view and climbs down the stone staircase. I smile and nudge her back into reality.

“I wasn’t swooning, idiot! I was studying him.”

I believe her. She likes to overanalyze people. “What’s the verdict?”

“That man is dangerous. You’re not considering him for emergency deflowering, are you, Lila?”
Azalea knows I’m still a V-girl. When I arrived home that night feeling so dejected, I thought she was going to give me the
I-told-you-so
speech. She didn’t. With her talent of guessing emotions, she not only gave me privacy, but she was supportive … in her own detached way.

I scoff. “No! He’s kind of a soldier.”
More like a beast.

“Good. Just take a look at his size!” she says. “He towers above soldiers so his
truth
must be … extraordinary. Too much for a tight V-girl.”

Dad’s biology lessons got us used to describing reproductive functions in clinical terms, but we use other words for fun. A penis is
the truth
. A vagina gets a different name every time. We avoid expressions like
tuna taco
or
fish burger.
Fish references make me feel smelly, so today refer to it as
Gina
.

I wrinkle my nose. “Would that even be physically possible?
Ginas
ought to have a stretch limit.”

“The size of a baby must be the limit.”

I still remember the monumental size I grabbed in my hands.
“That’s different
. Mother Nature prepares
Ginas
and cervixes over nine months to give birth. Not for unnaturally big penises.”

“That’s why Rey’d be better for you. He seems to be well endowed in a normal way. It won’t ever happen, though.”

I shake my head feeling a mix of irritation and longing. I couldn’t see it, but I felt it. “Bigger than normal ... but …” She waits for me to elaborate, but I won’t disrespect Rey by discussing his girth with her.

She laughs heartily
.
“You know what they say: Penis is in the eye of the beholder.”

Discussions about sex are not uncommon among us, but Rey’s an uncomfortable topic.
Annoyed, I shake my head. I realize that I so do
not
want to talk about this with my sister.

It’s Azzy who changes the subject. “Aleksey must like you. He stares at you a lot.”