“Of course. And the Wonder Ball is coming up next month. Did I mention Jamie’s having a party beforehand?”
“You didn’t, but that sounds great.” I push some extra warmth into my smile and take his hand. “We should also just…hang out more. It was nice when you came by my trailer the other week. Maybe I could come by the studio for a rehearsal sometime?”
“I’d like that.” He strokes the back of my hand with his thumb as he says it, and it feels nice.
I can totally do this.
“And I haven’t been to your house in…I don’t even know how long,” I add. “Remember when I used to come hang out with you and the guys?” I drop my voice a little. “And…just you.” Not that we did anything more than make out when I did — mostly, we just watched recordings of the Wonder Boys’ earlier shows — but I hope it’ll stir something in him. And that whatever it stirs in him will find its way to me soon. Because I’m getting really freaking tired of being so…unstirred.
I’m eighteen. I’m hot. He’s hot. Shouldn’t we…stir? Shouldn’t we at least want to?
“That sounds nice,” he says, but his voice has gotten a little funny. He’s still holding my hand, though. And then he smiles, and I remember exactly why he has over a million Twitter followers. “Actually, as long as we’re talking about this, I had something I wanted to discuss with you. I think you’re gonna like it, and we may as well take advantage of the fact that this place is quiet.”
“I’m intrigued.” I say it teasingly, but I really am. I can’t remember the last time Zander and I talked about…anything. My first thought is that he’s going on a huge tour this summer and wants me to come with. I’d been hoping to be filming a movie, but auditions outside of the typical bit parts have been pretty minimal. It would be nice to have something to keep me busy… “What’s up?”
He takes my other hand in his and looks me in the eye. “Vanessa Park, will you take a purity pledge with me?”
My fists instinctively curl up in his hands, and he yelps as one of my sharp nails nicks his palm. “Whoops, sorry!” I blurt, relaxing my fingers. “You just…surprised me a little there.” I drop my voice to whisper-level. “You want to take a purity pledge? We’re not even having sex.”
“Which is exactly why it’s perfect. I never thought I’d find another virgin in Hollywood,” he says, his eyes and smile warming as he squeezes my hands. “You mean so much to me, Vanessa, and I think this is the perfect journey for us. You’re pure, and I’m pure, and what better way to express that than with a public pledge? Think of what role models we’ll be.”
Role models. Zander’s found my magic words. I’ve always loved the idea of people looking up to me, the way I look up to women like Lucy Liu and Maggie Q — fellow Asian-American actors who paved the way for girls like me to believe they can actually do this acting thing, who let us see characters who look like us. I’d kinda always hoped kids would see me the same way someday.
Could they now? For this?
Did I want them to? For this?
It’s not like I’m not a virgin by choice — I am. I want my first to be someone I’m really, truly in love with, and I don’t care if that’s cheesy or even if everyone else thinks it’s naïve. And I’ve always liked that Zander’s a virgin, too. I know he’ll never push me to go too fast or do anything I’m not ready for.
So, really, isn’t this kinda, sorta perfect?
“What exactly does this entail?” I ask. “We just make a statement to the press that we’re committing to not having sex?”
“Well, and obviously we’d need to get rings,” says Zander, his smile widening. I can’t remember the last time I saw his eyes glow like this. He’s clearly thought about this a lot, and though I don’t really know what it means, I like that he cares. But…rings?
“Don’t rings seem a little marital?”
“That’s the point,” he says patiently. “They’re a symbol of purity until marriage. Then you replace them with wedding rings.”
Wedding rings? “Zander, we’re so not old enough to get married, or even think about marriage.” We don’t even love each other. “Doesn’t this seem a little fast?”
His patience is dimming. “Not really. We’ve been together almost six months, and neither one of us believes in premarital sex. We should share that with the world. Besides, we’re not that young. My parents got married at twenty.”
And now they hate each other and only stay together because they don’t believe in divorce, I think but don’t say. Instead, I try to remember what conversations Zander and I have had about sex. We definitely shared that we’re virgins, that we think other people jump into bed quickly…but I don’t think I ever said I didn’t believe in premarital sex. I mean, I don’t really think about it in terms of marriage. I think about it in terms of love. When Ally slept with Liam, she was in love with him, and it was right for her. And even if she hadn’t been, I wouldn’t say I didn’t believe in it. It’s just…not for me.
But if I’m that in love with someone that I’d want to give him my virginity, I guess I’d wanna marry him, right?
Suddenly, Giunio’s feels like it’s about a zillion degrees.
“I mean, right?” Zander’s seriously turning up the smile wattage now, and he looks so sweet. And he has a point — it could be a great thing for kids to see that not everyone is doing it. Instead of being peer-pressured into sex they’re not ready for, maybe we could help them see that waiting is something to be proud of.
“Zander! Vanessa! Over here!”
We turn to see paparazzi gathering right outside the glass front of the restaurant, huge cameras in hand, encouraging smiles on their faces. Zander and I are still sitting there with our hands clasped together, undoubtedly making exactly the kind of genuine, sweet, romantic picture our fans die for.
Because we mean something to them. We matter. They admire us, and they want to be like us. The enormity of that has never struck me the way it does right now.
So as we wave and smile and kiss for the cameras, I sneak in a whispered, “Yes.”
I’d been feeling good about the decision when I agreed to it at dinner, but one lousy night’s sleep and a 5:00 a.m. call time later, I’m suddenly not so sure. The hot water with lemon I’m forced to drink so I don’t stain my teeth with coffee is totally not cutting it, either.
On top of that, I woke up to several grumpy e-mails from Ally about the fact that Liam’s barely been calling her and still hasn’t been to New York to visit. I’m not exactly thrilled with him these days, either, since he’s essentially dropped off the planet to film the Lassiter movie. Not that I’m fuming about the increased airtime or anything, but it is exhausting, and I could do without ever having to share it with Josh.
Liam doesn’t roll on to set that day until two, and when he does, he looks like complete and total crap. “Yikes, are you okay?” I ask. The circles under his eyes are dark and deep, and I know Toya’s gonna be working double-time.
“Fine,” he bites out. “I gotta get to makeup.”
He certainly does. “You talk to Ally this weekend?” I ask to his retreating back.
He freezes. “What the hell is up with this conspiracy of people telling me to talk to my own girlfriend? Yes, I talked to Ally this weekend. Happy?”
“Don’t mind him,” Josh says, walking over. “This is what happens when you work two jobs and don’t get laid.”