Stained

1

(No walls were damaged in the making of this story... Except for the fourth, which is currently in critical. Send flowers; I've heard it's especially fond of carnations.)

Scientifically proven fact: being a virgin past the age of sixteen is a lamentable misfortune that increases your chances of being forever alone.

Fascinating, right? I'd been living a lie for the past 16 1/2 years of my life. You see, the way I was raised, virginity was a valuable virtue meant to be preserved until you were married. It was something that made your wedding night more special, more intimate- something you and your spouse shared with only each other, and only would share with each other for the rest of your lives. Not such a popular view anymore, I knew, and I respected that. People had the right to make their own choices, so long as they could let others do the same. Unless, of course, their choices were completely wrong- like my choice to abstain.

I'd never been more enlightened in my life than I was today. Apparently if you were still a virgin in your junior year, you were a judgmental, stuck-up priss who took religion too seriously and probably only remained a virgin to have some sense of superiority over others. If it wasn't too late, a certified junior boy's prescription was to learn to let loose and 'quit being so bourgie.'

I made sure to take notes.

Get this, though; some seven or so boys in my grade were so intent on ensuring my well-being that they reminded me of my mistaken belief throughout the entire day. I nearly cried tears of joy, I was so touched. Thankfully my best friend was always there to help me get it together, you know?

Of course, my own uptight-ness wasn't the only theory they conjured up for the reason behind my virginity. They pointed out several possibilities: my ugly clothes, my manly voice and hands, my cesspool eye color (though dark brown would've sufficed), my horse legs, and, of course, my Hades-blessed face.

But before you ask, no, my being a virgin has absolutely nothing to do with the multiple dark patches of eczema defacing my caramel skin.

....

Can you detect my sarcasm? I really hope you can. If not, the exit to this story is in the top left, and I hope you find interest someplace else. Wattpad is a vast place.

But if your humor is as dry and merciless as my best friend's ankles on a brisk day in November, please, enjoy your stay.

Anyways, my day freaking sucked; I had my morals disrespected by idiots left and right, my history teacher surprised us with an essay we had to complete during class that I couldn't even finish halfway, I almost choked on my inedible school lunch when one of my antagonizers kicked my chair for ignoring them, and my thirty-minute long bus ride in the afternoon felt ten times longer than usual. I swear if I didn't have Noni Alicia Raye in my life, I'd likely still be at school in the library, crying in one of the back corners with my face hidden within the pages of Island of the Blue Dolphins.

Thankfully, though, I did have Noni Alicia Raye in my life. And with her by my side, I could and would always manage to take on this world with a smile and some sarcastic remarks.

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After ignoring the topic for the entirety of the bus ride, Noni and I inevitably found ourselves discussing our day after we finished walking to my house. We'd rushed up the stairs past my brother and his fiancée on the couch watching Empire (I hadn't seen the finale yet- even though the new season started in less than a month- and I refused to have anything spoiled) with a terse greeting. And after we'd plopped down on opposite sides of the bed- me at the post and her at the foot- we talked like we always did.