No One Dies a Virgin

Chapter Four: Myriad of Scars

Social Norms-What is normal? That was a question that JD found himself wondering nearly daily as the days went on, as he spent more and more time with Veronica. He went to her parties (he found that there were more than two people which was somewhat a shock. He also found that they appreciated his cheap beer more than Veronic had). He said nice things when they seemed to be expected. He kissed her after dark, letting her know that he was there and had no intention of going anywhere.

He wondered if the diary part of her-The teenage angst bull shit part of her was the bigger, normal part. He wondered if the parties and high heels part of her was more real, more normal. He wondered if the girl who talked to him over the phone as he fell asleep, telling him all about her day and who did what with so-and-so.

JD thought about asking her what she thought 'normal' was a thousand and one times but for some reason he always ended up biting it back, letting it go. He didn't need to bring that into their...whatever they had. He shut his mouth and let her do the talking, smiling and even laughing as she told him her little tiffs and secrets. He listened as she told him about the Heathers and the Rams and Kurts of her world. He listened as she asked him questions about his life and he tried his best to answer.

"What was it like before you moved here?" she asked one night, looking down at her newly painted blue and white nails. She was cradling the phone against her shoulder as she painted her other hand, careful not to spill the toxic smelling beauty product onto her new night dress. She liked the little blue night dress that JD had made her out of one of his shirts, telling her that it was meant for her. She had to agree-Blue was her colour.

"Before Sherwood," JD murmured, laying back against his pillows in his bed, wondering what was going on on the other side of the line. "Well, before Sherwood I don't remember much...I didn't pay attention. I've been to ten high schools, but I don't know the names or faces of any one there. You're the only one that stood out to me," he admitted slily, his smirk evident even over the phone.

Veronica laughed at the simple flirtation. He wasn't one for open romantic antics, but oh...when you could calm him down, when he was alone...he was the sweetest boy she could have wished for, and he understood her soul. At least, that's what it felt like when he looked into her eyes and told her all the things they could go on to do; They could be soldiers in a new world order. They would be sovereign rulers. They could go to college and learn anything and everything and they could forget about anyone who made her cry. He brought her roses once. It had only been about five months since they had gotten to know each other, and as few as three since they started going (or whatever kind of relationship they had...one of mutual need?) and already he had made her feel special. He said he needed her...

"And before me, wasn't there someone else?" Veronica fished, her mischievous smile playing across her lips, though no one was there to witness it. "You're a good guy. There must have been someone," she prodded when no answer came to her receiver.

"No, no one," JD whispered, suddenly feeling the crushing news of his reality. There had been no one. Veronica was the first person who had offered to care. She was the first person he didn't immediately know everything about. She was the only person he couldn't read as if they were an open book waiting for him to tear the pages from it. "No one but you, Darling. You've got first and last place."

Veronica shuddered as his tone changed and JD's voice croaked, almost sickly sweet into her ear. He was asking for something from her...her devotion? Veronica didn't know. All the knew was that her body, her soul, her whole being wanted to give whatever it was to him no matter what the personal price. He sounded so kind, so lonely. He needed her and she needed to be needed.

A loney boy with a lonely girl, two great minds, and nothing to hold them back from whatever they chose that they wanted. If it was the world, they'd have it in their shaking hands, their sick and twisted mouths unmoving as no words rose from spit lilted lips.