Virginia Gone Read online

  “Like magic, she felt him getting nearer, felt it like a pull in the pit of her stomach. It felt like hunger but deeper, heavier. Like the best kind of expectation.”―Sarah Addison Allen, The Sugar Queen

  The bucket rocked as the Ferris wheel jerked to a stop for the next couple to get on down below. Virginia could feel the cold steel of the bar as she gripped it in a brief, fleeting moment of fear.

  That fear soon subsided and she leaned forward.

  She loved being on the top. On the top she could see everything—for miles and miles, the lazy movement of the crowd surrounded by all the bright, flashing colored lights

  It was magical.

  Hypnotizing.

  Romantic.

  Gazing down she searched the walkways for her father’s tall statue shadowing her mother. She instantly located her brother by the games surround by the popular kids from school. He wasn’t hard to spot wearing his favorite, New York Giants baseball cap. Their mother had snatched the thing from his head on more than one occasion proclaiming Brandon would be bald by the time he was thirty if he didn’t let his scalp breathe. Brandon would run a hand through the hair creased and molded flat to his odd shape head, he would laugh and drop the cap back in its permanent place.

  Virginia also saw her childhood friend, Ava, waiting in the long line to get on the Ferris wheel. Ava smiled up waving wildly. The two girls had gone their separate ways once Virginia entered high school. She missed Ava, and thought of her often. They had spent many afternoons playing with dolls and riding bikes. Virginia sat back and sighed for lost friendships.

  Summer air lightly brushed her heated flesh, warm like fluttering butterfly wings over dandelions. Rain was soon coming; she could see the quick explosions of white on the horizon and hear a distant rumbled over the noise of the carnival. She closed her eyes and listened to the grinding motors and pulleys of the nearby rides and the crowds roar laced with laughter.

  She could sense his heavy gaze on the left side of her face; she turned her head to welcome his attention. They both were quiet, frozen staring in to each other’s eyes as the carnival proceeded on without them. Six seconds. A minute. Three. The color of his eyes reminded her of a never-ending field of green clover she could submerge her whole self in.

  A corner of his mouth rose. “Virginia, have you ever even kissed a guy?”

  Her only response was the slow shake of her head. Her flesh tingled with the awareness of the guy squeezed in next to her. The right side of his solid form pressed against hers made her belly flare with wonder and excitement. He smelled different from her father, a combination of cigarettes and spicy cologne, a scent she’d grown to remember fondly.

  At sixteen, unlike most of the girls in her class, Virginia had no experience in what happened between a man and woman when they had sex. Her innocent, inexperienced mind could venture only so far before her cheeks would flare crimson from shame. Countless nights she’d fantasized about her first kiss. She’d even gone as far as practicing—seductively moving her lips and determining how much pressure felt right—on the back of her own delicate hand. The lightest, barely there brush of her moist lips followed by the trace of her tongue had felt best. So, she was primed and ready for that once in a lifetime magical moment and she wanted it to be him, always had. The chemistry was there. The timing was right. Oh Lord, she wanted his lips on hers so bad she ached with it.

  He leaned in. His voice came low stealing her breath, “One day, when there’s no chance of your family seeing us…I’m going to kiss you.”

  One

  “I’ve been your roommate for two years, and I have never once met your family,” Lizzie stated perched Indian style in the center of Virginia’s bed watching her cram the last of her folded clothes in the open suitcase.

  “I know, I told you my family is different from yours.”

  “I don’t care how “different” they are…. shouldn’t your father at least care to see how his daughter is doing? It’s not like you live hours away; you’re practically in his back yard. I mean for all he knows you’re jacked up on coke and having hardcore, nasty sex with tattooed bikers. I can’t imagine not talking to my parents. My mom can’t go a single day without calling to check….shit, I’m sorry Gin…you know how it is once my mouth gets to going.”

  Virginia shrugged a shoulder, hands planted on her hips she gave the contents of the suitcase one final sweep: makeup, tooth brush, five pairs of jeans, ten shirts, three dresses, curling iron, hairdryer, shoes, books for escape. It was all in there, the essentials.

  “Virginia, you know you can talk to me? Your mom drove her car off a bridge in to a lake. I know she survived, but she’s in bad shape. How do you feel about that?”

  “I’m fine. I hope I’ll be able to get this suit case closed.” Virginia jabbed a knee on the top of the lid and tugged on the resistant zipper.

  “So, that’s it. Your dad contacts you after not speaking a single word to you in two years, demands you rush home because your mom’s been in an accident and all you can think about is getting your damn suitcase closed. Virginia I’ll never understand you. You don’t date, and when you’re not working you lock yourself away reading,” Lizzie sighed and shook her head, “don’t you want to experience life….love?”

  “Okay, first of all…you don’t have to understand me. All you have to do is pay your half of the bills. Second…I’ve watched you cry every time some asshole stomps on your heart—how many times have you seen me sobbing on the couch? I’ll tell you…zero times. You’re the one that doesn’t make sense. Why put yourself through it?”

  “Relationships are not all bad.”

  Virginia chuckled at her dear delusional friend. “That’s the best you’ve got? I was at least expecting to gag while you went in to explicit detail about how satisfying sex can be.”

  Lizzie’s chin came up, “Laugh at me all you want…one day you’ll actually find yourself thinking about sex quite often. Sooner or later some hot stud is going to make you wet between your legs, and then all you’ll be able to think about is his penis and all the places you’d like him to stick it. ”

  Feathers burst in to the air as Virginia slapped Lizzie several times with a pillow. “You are NASTY! I’m serious. This conversation is over!”

  Lizzie fell sideways in a fit of laughter, she clutched her stomach; eventually her laughter gave way to snorts, and then died off in to nothingness. She wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “I love messing with your head.” She drew a breath. “How long will you be gone?”

  “A week, two at the most,” Virginia flopped down on the side of the bed, her shoulders slumped with dread. “I don’t want to go back. Would I be a horrible person if I didn’t?”

  “Well…” Lizzie paused, “You could stay with me, but if you don’t go I’ll never get the chance to meet your family.” She picked up the small photo lying on Virginia’s bedside table. “And your brother looks awful tasty in this picture. Why don’t you ever invite him to visit us? ”

  “Forget it. I’m not fixing you up with Brandon.”

  “Fine whatever….be stingy. We probably wouldn’t have worked out anyways….he looks a little too anal for me. I like my men bad. Now….this other guy in the picture ….dark and handsome…he looks like he knows how to have some serious fun….my kind of fun.”

  “Give me that.” Virginia swiped the photo from her friends clutches. She held it in her lap, the corners bent in her tight grip. She frowned, and glared down at the two guys with impressive fish dangling from each of their poles. The lake was visible, stretched out behind them. It had been a hot day, a happy day, and one she remembered well. She was the one who had been behind the camera.

  “For goodness sakes Virginia…. Lighten up!”

&
nbsp; There are just some things a person can never forget. For two years Virginia had avoided her sordid past, avoided him. She should have known sooner or later her demons would hunt her down wherever she hid. But she was no longer the same thin-skinned, frightened girl she once was. She was stronger, a hell of a lot stronger. Her mind was clearer than it had been in a long time.

  Two

  The yellow glow from the porch light spilled down on distressed wood, a bright, shinning beacon in the night summing Virginia home. It had rained off and on all day; one of those cold rains that settles in quick dramatically cooling things off. Faint thunder rumbled far off in the heavy grey. Water stood in puddles on the walk and in the yard—a complete wash out.

  Virginia swallowed hard, the pit of her stomach doing fickle somersaults as she sloshed her way up to the front door. Her rain boots made squishy sounds up the wood steps. Even though she’d sheltered her body under a black, hefty bag, soppy strands of her hair still spiked out making her look as if she had tentacles. She shook the beads of water off her and shivered griping the handle of the suitcase tight.

  This is it.

  Deep breath. Deep Breath.

  The screen door creaked opened and her brother stepped out. His lips were pressed thin, his expression grim. “Here, I’ll take that.” He reached for the suitcase. “Get inside before you come down with pneumonia. Why didn’t you wait out the storm? I would’ve brought you out an umbrella.” He sat her things in the foyer.

  “I’m fine.” Once inside where it was warm she wiped the dampness from her eyes with her palms. The house looked exactly the same as it did two years ago. It was like she’d never left. Nothing had been moved. The only thing different was the smell. Roses. She breathed in the unmistakable floral scent heavy in the air.

  “How’s mom?”

  “Sleeping.” His eyebrows slopped with concern. “It’ll probably be best if you wait to see her in the morning. Daytime drains the strength from her.” He removed his baseball cap, scratched his scalp and dumped the cap back in place. “I should probably warn you…Riley’s here.”

  Instinctively, or mostly out of habit Virginia’s hand went to her own hair: she attempted to smooth the wet, stringy mess, running a hand over her ratty T-shirt and hip hugger jeans.

  She remembered how close her brother and Riley were before she left. Now, Brandon said his name with such venom. “What’s wrong? I thought you and he were best friends?”

  “Things change Virginia…you’d know this if you’d stuck around.” Brandon shot a glance over her shoulder. His face hardened.

  Riley.

  She knew he was looming in the doorway behind her. The first dead giveaway was how sudden Brandon’s scowl deepened, while he refused to elaborate on his feud with his friend any further. Second giveaway was how her flesh felt a blaze. Her body betrayed her by waking up from a long hiatus bounding with weird sensations she’d forgotten she could have. She turned to see Riley for the first time in two years. She drew in a shuddering breath through her teeth at the more refined, matured version of her friend. He was always something to behold, that much was certain. The same still held true, twenty-one suited him.

  “Hey Gin,” he said leaning a lazy shoulder against the door jamb. Arms crossed over his chest he studied her with such intensity her legs nearly buckled under her. No doubt she blushed. “Glad to see you made it home. Here let me help you take your things up to your room.”

  Her hand came up. “That’s okay. Brandon will help me.”

  Riley stopped mid step, frowned, shrugged a shoulder and went back in to the kitchen leaving her with her brother. She heard drawers slam shut. Chairs squealed over ceramic tile and clattered over as if they had been kicked sideways.

  The first time Virginia met Riley was when she was fourteen. He was rudely blocking her path in to the kitchen. Virginia had just taken a shower and her hair was dripping wet matted to the sides of her thin face.

  “Do you mind?” She motioned him aside eager to get in to the kitchen, before her brother inhaled the entire box of Cocoa puffs.

  “Who’s the drowned mouse?” he asked her brother allowing Virginia to duck under the spindly arm he had braced in the doorway. She was unimpressed. Riley was lanky boy going through an awkward all-black phase.

  Brandon talked around a mouth full of cereal. “That’s Virginia, my sister. Be careful what you say around her. She’ll squeal on you in a heartbeat.” To put emphasis on his words he squealed like a little pig.

  “When have I ever told on you?” Virginia cried feeling the first sting of tears and her cheeks heat. Her brother was molding and shaping her to be quite the secretive girl. Who wants to be categorized as a tattletale? Not Virginia.

  “It’s okay, you don’t look like a rat to me,” Riley responded punching her upper arm with a fist. She rubbed where it ached and stuck out a tongue at her brother who was shoveling the last of the cereal in to his mouth at that very moment.

  Riley was the complete opposite of Virginia in every way. Where she was pale with blonde hair, Riley’s hair was dark and as richly deep as his eyes. He was outgoing, a jokester, people gravitated to him. Riley’s overly cheerful act was the product of a broken home where neither of his parents was ever around and when they were, he tried his best to make them like him by being funny. Somehow—Virginia couldn’t imagine how—Riley’s parents had seemed to have forgotten him. She suspected all he wanted was a place to belong, a place he could get some attention and just enjoy life without all the complication. Little by little his visits to hang out with Brandon after school turned in to sleep overs. Soon, feeling uttering sorry for their newly discovered stray; Virginia’s parents had purchased another twin bed for Brandon’s room, and that was it….Riley was a constant variable in the Benet household.

  Virginia didn’t complain, in fact, she grew quite fond of the boy’s silly antics. He made her giggle endlessly. It was nothing for her to glance across the dinner table to find a string bean dangling from Riley’s nostril, or a green olive obscuring his front tooth. She liked it best when he forcefully pinned Brandon to the floor for picking on her. The three of them were inseparable: enjoying summer days swimming and boating on the lake, and winters watching newly released movies. If Brandon and Riley fought, it was over who was a better fisherman, who could score the most touchdowns in football, or whose muscles were more defined. Virginia was always the referee. “Let’s ask Virginia,” they would say.

  But after Virginia celebrated her sixteenth birthday—her presents unwrapped and her candles blown out—Riley had cornered her in the hallway. He’d forced her backwards until her shoulder blades bumped the wall. He skimmed by her, his solid chest brushing hers as if there wasn’t enough room for both of them to pass without touching.

  She had inhaled his masculine scent, seen the flecks of gold in his dark brown eyes, the kissable swell of his bottom lip puckered out for the taking.

  “Sweet sixteen and never been touched…what are we going to do about that?” he had whispered next to her ear, the warmth of his words causing goose pimples to swamp her body. She had drawn a quick, sharp breath and held it.

  It was an innocent comment, which probably meant nothing more than teasing to Riley, but it had meant the world to Virginia. The possibility of there being more between them was kick-started in her mind. And there was no taking it back. It had caused new feelings to ignite inside her.

  She had wanted him to say more.

  Do more.

  From that moment on, she found herself constantly watching Riley. She would lie in her bed late at night listening hard for the sound of his footsteps or movement in the room next to hers. She would lay awake, breathing heavy, imaging what it would be like to be his, completely and totally his. It became all she really wanted—an obsession.

  Virginia’s father must have picked up on the strange vibe emanating from his daughter for their houseguest, because shortly after her sixteenth birthday, Riley was conveniently relocated out
to the unfinished room over the garage. Her father had put a sudden end to the budding romance Virginia imagined was taking place.

  “You ready to take your stuff to your room?” Brandon asked elbowing her side starling her out of her trance. “Forget him. He’s in one of his moods.”

  She followed Brandon to her old bedroom; always glancing back.

  Just like the rest of the house, nothing had changed in her room. Her ratty stuffed animals were neatly placed on her perfectly made bed. Her softball and soccer ribbons hung from a pin board by the desk. It was a room for a much younger girl: fuchsia pink and white—candy land and Chutes and ladders. There were white lace curtains with ruffles and shag carpet. Virginia sank down on a corner of the mattress with a sigh, her knees pressed together. Her hands settled on top her lap. She was soaked, cold and nauseated. “So…what happened between you and Riley?”

  Brandon settled a hip on her dresser. “Nothing I care to talk about.”

  “Hey honey,” her father’s voice startled both of them, their heads turned to the doorway. He was ready for bed wearing navy sweat pants and a white T-shirt. His dark hair was damp, sprinkled with gray, and he appeared on edge almost as if he was tip-toeing in to a conversation with her.