Overture (North Security 1)

Actually my mind is flush with other thoughts, far more illicit, after the most uncomfortable sex talk in the history of sex talks. “It doesn’t matter what I wear. We’re not going to meet guys.”

“Aha!” She holds up a blouse with silk ruffles and no sleeves. I usually pair it with a black camisole underneath and a thin suit jacket over the top, the fabric stretchy enough so I can raise my arms and play violin. “This will be sexy in a prim librarian kind of way.”

“Why am I trying to look sexy?”

“Because we’re going to sneak out and go to a club tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“This is for Cody. You can’t say no.”

A few weeks ago Cody confided that the new coach at Kingston High made him nervous. That’s how he said it—made him nervous. We thought maybe he was one of those macho bastards who would hit someone if they didn’t run laps fast enough. It took some coaxing on Laney’s part to get Cody to reveal what he really meant.

That he got a little too close to the boys he was supposed to be coaching.

“How is going to a club going to help Cody?”

“Ohhh, and these will be great underneath.”

I stare at the tiny scrap of black fabric she’s wearing. Spandex. “Those are booty shorts. They go under my skirt so I don’t accidentally flash five hundred people after Brahms’s ‘Sonata No. 3.’”

“We can pair them with some stockings I saw in your drawer. That flash of thigh is going to be the sexiest thing these boys have ever seen.”

“They’re basically underwear. Why do we have to go to a club to help Cody? Why can’t we help in a library? Somewhere that we can wear regular clothes and go during the day?”

“Because this guy has incriminating evidence on Coach Price.”

“And he’s just going to give it to us?”

“That reminds me. Do you have five thousand dollars?”

“Oh my God.”

“Look, don’t freak out. People our age go to clubs all the time.”

“I’ve never been inside one.”

“Because Liam still acts like you’re twelve years old and watches your every move.”

In my mind I can see Liam’s stern expression. Say it back to me, Samantha. I need to know you understand. Imagine if I told him I wasn’t a virgin. I already know about condoms because I use them all the time. Well, maybe not all the time. Once would be enough.

Would he have been shocked? Probably. He might have tried to lock me up in a tower and throw away the key. Or maybe he finally would have seen me as a woman. He wouldn’t treat me like I was a little girl if I wasn’t a virgin. Would he?

“Fine,” I say, grabbing the clothes. “We can stop by the bank.”

She follows me into the bathroom. “I’ve been working on cat eyeliner.”

“A little privacy, please?”

That earns me an eye roll. “Okay, Ms. Concert Dress. I happen to know there’s no privacy in those backstage rooms. And no marble floors either. So stop complaining.”

Privacy? No. There’s not enough room for that. And any rooms with doors are taken by people having hookups before the show. It would have been easy to lose my virginity to someone playing the tuba or even a conductor, but I never wanted that. Being a so-called child prodigy has made me weird enough. I would like my first time to happen an ordinary way—with a man who cares about me, preferably.

Condoms are mandatory. The words come back to me in a humiliated rush, my cheeks heating with the memory. I actually said that to Liam North. The words came out of my mouth when I was only a few feet away from him.

Not only that, but I told him about condoms appearing on cave paintings.

Awesome.