Very Virgin Mary




“We live in a country where the only thing that counts is money. And we are so fucking bored that our version of fun is to go to the mall and buy some shit we don’t really need in the first place. It’s a great fucking country we live in, ain´t it? Everything is so meaningless. I’m so tired of it. Nobody cares about what I have to say. I don’t have a car so I can’t go anywhere. All I can hope for right now is to survive high school. Well, at least I’ve got my Black Jack chewing gums” A loud chewing sound invaded the radio microphone and ventured on throughout the ether. Into the rooms of teenagers all over the small town of Sunnydale, a sleepy suburbia in southern California, the distorted but distinct female voice poured its anger and fear. Eager ears listening by their radios while their parents lay sound asleep in their beds.


“And the school…how are they supposed to raise thinking independent individuals when they frown upon those who speak up? I say it’s bullshit. And on that note….take it away Mr. Cohen.


Everybody knows that the dice are loaded, everybody rolls with their fingers crossed, everybody knows the war is over, everybody knows the good guys lost. Everybody knows the fights´ fixed, the poor stay poor, the rich get richer, that’s how it goes, everybody knows


“Oh no, now I got all depressed again. And strangely all though our beloved school counselor, Mr. Deaver has told us that we all have a bright future ahead of us. Shame on me. Yours truly, Very Virgin Mary should truly be ashamed. But I’m too fucking tired to be ashamed. Now it’s time for some real hard core, maybe you remember this from when I played it last week. So again, put your house on fire and dance! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hhhhhh!”


Hi dad I’m in jail, hi dad I’m in jail! Happy birthday, I’m in jail. I’m in jail, say hi to mum! Hello dad, hi dad I’m in jail dad!


5 minutes later Very Virgin Mary collapsed onto her bed, sweating and with a heaving chest, as the loud music kept on pounding the walls. The scarcely lit room was a quilt of colors – a lamp draped in a red cloth hung from the ceiling, a green neon sign flashed the word VACANT every third second; CD‘s, pencils, drawings, empty food cartons and clothes were scattered across the bed and floor. Stretching along one wall was a monstrous machine with flickering red and yellow buttons with a mike attached to a metal arm.




As teenagers around Sunnydale eagerly expected to hear what Very Virgin Mary was going to say next, they were all disappointed when the song was cut in mid half as the broadcast ended abruptly.



Sunnydale High. Next day.



“Did you listen last week when she masturbated on air?”

“I’ve heard that she’s done that several times, man”

“Wow, it must be one of those hot chicks in cheerleading if she wants do herself that often!”

“Oh shut up!”


Mark and Seth went quiet as two of the said cheerleaders walked by.


“Definitely one of those”

“Shut up!”


They got up as they heard the bell ring, and headed for their first class of the day


Sunnydale High looked like it´d done ever since it was erected back in the sixties. A vanilla white color tainted the thick walls of the building that from a distance looked like a giant shoebox, dropped from the skies into the middle of a white middle-class neighborhood.


A black Desoto screeched to a stop in front of the shoebox.

“Home, sweet home” the driver whispered and stepped out of the car, his black boots connecting with the warm asphalt. He pulled off his black leather coat and threw it in the back seat before shutting the car door.

He scanned the busy schoolyard until his gaze settled on a blonde girl that stood alone at the main gate.
She was always standing alone and always looked a bit lost. She had moved to Sunnydale about 4 months ago. Just like Very Virgin Mary. And she didn´t seem to have any friends. It’s got to be her.
Her blond hair framed a face with big eyes and full lips. She looked exactly like he’d imagined Very Virgin Mary to look like. He´d drawn sketches of what he thought the person behind the voice that had occupied his mind lately, might look like without ever having seen her.


His got distracted for a few moments as a black, large Mercedes pulled up to the curb next to where he was standing, daddy’s little princess stepping out of it a moment later. Always dressed to the nines in brand names and always perfectly laid make-up and hair Cordelia Chase looked like a model. Most guys would gawk her way as soon as her dad left with his car; however Spike had his mind on someone else.


“Hi” Spike was now standing right in front of the blonde.

“Hi” the blonde kept her eyes on the ground.

He leaned forward so that their noses almost touched and furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you really a virgin?”


The blond did nothing but stare back him with wide eyes. He backed off a little, since he didn’t want to scare her.


“Tell me your name, goldilocks”

“Harmony”

“Harmony…” he said, as if tasting the name in his mouth.


She picked up her bag without once raising her eyes to him and said: “I really have to go now”


“All right. Bye luv. I hope we can talk again sometime.”


She just shook her shoulder as saying “I don’t know” and walked off, leaving him behind to watch her back as she with slouched shoulders disappeared into the herd of students.


Spike decided he wasn’t gonna let her get away that easily. He chased after her and saw her ascending the steps to the second floor. He kept his eyes on her and followed closely, almost tripping over a chubby girl that sat on the bottom step. Spike watched the blonde as she entered a class room, while the girl sitting on the steps put another stick of Black Jack gum in her mouth.



End of Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.


“And so then the Logicars questioned the few remaining Despars more and more. They began to fade away until there was nothing left of them and they disappeared from the face of the Earth.”

English teacher Anne Hayworth put down the piece of handwritten, wrinkled piece of paper. “Very good Buffy. You’re a natural.” Anne glanced at her student and saw her looking up. “What did the rest of you think about it?” She looked out over her class. “What do you think the message of that story is?”


A student sitting in the back raised his hand. “To think with your heart and not your brain?”


Miss Hayworth nodded approvingly. “Buffy. Was Bernard right? Was that what you wanted to express?”


Spike turned his head towards the new girl in English class. She was chubby with blond hair and she always seemed to sit and walk slightly tilted forward. He had never heard her say a word.


Buffy felt like a fish on dry land, her mouth opening and closing without letting out a sound.


She was eventually saved by the bell. Buffy gratefully stood up and gathered her books while casting stolen glances at Bernard. Bernard Lindsey. A tall, brown haired boy that made her heart jump. But he was one of the popular kids, always laughing and joking with his friends. She watched as he left the room, as always hoping he would look back at her.


On her way out of the classroom Buffy was pulled back by Miss Hayworth’s voice. “You’re really talented Buffy. You should send something to a publisher. Take a chance.” Buffy nodded, and again started to make her way out of the classroom, this time just a little bit faster.


Buffy almost jumped in surprise as Bernard was waiting for her outside. His face seemed to cover her entire field of vision when he smiled.


“I heard what Miss Hayworth said. I really like writing as well, maybe we should team up some night, give each other some hints?”


Buffy tried to smile back but everything that came out was a crooked half-smile, making her look like she was making a funny face. She tried to talk but her mouth wouldn’t cooperate.


Bernard looked at her curiously. “So…let me know if you want to team up sometime, all right?”


Buffy nodded and watched Bernard walk away
Don’t even try to smile Buffy, it doesn’t work. Why do you even try? It doesn’t work. Don’t even try, the adolescent’s’ inner voice chastised


Spike watched Buffy as she stood in the hallway, clasping her books to her chest. Buffy Summers. New. Shy. Smart. But no way.



Later that night as the darkness enclosed the even lawns and neatly trimmed flowerbeds of Sunnydale residential areas, Buffy walked through the door to her home.


“How was theatre practice?”

“Boring”

Joyce Summers didn’t look away from the TV to look at her daughter. “You say everything is boring Buffy.”

“Because everything is.”

Finally Joyce turned to face her daughter. “Something must be positive with the new school. Dad says it’s one of the best in the country.”

“That’s because he has to. He is the new head of the school board after all.”

“Well, I hope you find new friends soon. Or a boyfriend maybe.” Joyce’s voice had raised a notch for that last part.

Rolling her eyes to that familiar line Buffy sighed “Yes, because that would be the solution to everything.” She dropped her schoolbag and opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer, looked back at her mother who was engrossed in whatever was on TV and walked upstairs to her room.



Buffy pulled off her day-clothes and threw them on the floor like a caterpillar changing its skin and left only her bra and panties on. She fell back into her chair; put her feet up on her desk. She pulled the tab and used the other hand to feed her pet lizard. After a few sips she pulled at the covers that hid her radio transmitter from prying eyes, her fingers dancing over the buttons like a piano player, caressing them.


“Buffy?”

“Shit!” In a flash Buffy was on her feet, covering her radio back up again and throwing on a long sweater that reached her mid-thigh. “Just a second, dad” She stood still for a few seconds to get her breathing under control before opening the door.

“Buffy? What are you doing?”

“Nothing, I was just getting ready for bed.”

“You told me yesterday you wanted to borrow my Elvis records. I took them out for you”

“Yeah, great.” Buffy followed her father to his workroom where the large desk was almost invisible under stacks of paper.

He handed her the records, then gave her a serious look. “Your mother asked me to talk to you.”

“Oh no”

“She says you’re not happy here.”

“Dad…”

“I know you had friends back in Chicago and that it must have been tough for you to move here. But it’s time to move on, find new friends.”

“It’s not that easy, dad.”

“The school has excellent programs for new students, specially designed to help them adjust… ”

“Dad. You said that as long as I get good grades, you’ll leave me alone”


Hank rolled his eyes as his daughter slammed the door to her room. He walked down to the kitchen where he met his wife’s critical stare. “What? I tried!”



In her room Buffy repeated her previous actions, except this time she held a folded paper with a stamp saying “Sunnydale High” on it. She had seen on it her dad’s desk and caught a hold of it when he hadn’t been looking. She again placed her legs on her desk, opened a stack of Black Jack’s and popped a coke. The lights from the transmitter lit up the room and filled the void with music. “Very Virgin Mary’s back, and boy does she have a surprise for you.”




End of Chapter 2.

If red really is the color of love then Loretta Crestwood was an impostor. She seemed to float into her office, her ankles and high heels hidden under the hem of her red power dress. Red painted fingernails were tapping against each other, like a tiger sharpening its claws.


She knew a lot, and especially she knew a lot about teenagers. They needed a stern hand guiding them.
“So. Mark and Seth.” The two teenagers who were sitting painfully straight on pin chairs shrunk three sizes. “From what I’ve heard, the two are you are keeping good grades.”


“Yes…Mrs. Crestwood” Mark answered cautiously.

“We wouldn’t want your grades to be ruined by anything unimportant.”

“No.”

“But you do know that soliciting is prohibited on school grounds?”


Two heads nodded.


“But if you tell me right now who that dj is, I’ll forget all about this.”

The two heads snapped up at the same time. “But we don’t know. Nobody does.”

“Oh please.” Loretta Crestwood looked like someone had suggested to her that the earth was indeed flat. “Tell me and your parents will be able to be proud of you at your graduation.” Loretta Crestwood was not having anyone destroying what she had built up during her career. Not in her school.



"Loretta Loretta Loretta."


A voice that nowadays seemed all too familiar to the principle echoed through the halls and classrooms of the school. Within a second Loretta’s high heeled shoes clicked down the school corridor, her ears trying to locate the source.


"Like I said; I have a surprise for you. I’m as we’re speaking holding a letter signed our very own beloved principal, our dear Mrs. Loretta Crestwood. Regarded like a mother of every single student here at Sunnydale High. Except then for Mark Setgart who got kicked out last week, and of course not so beloved by Cheryl Davenport who was kicked out because she was knocked up and now I quote; didn’t feel remorseful. Man, she didn’t feel remorseful. What the fuck is wrong with this picture folks? So I sa----"


Loretta Crestwood held the boomer box over her head in a victory stance, its power cords disconnected. Her teeth were bared like an aggressive dog as she walked with her prey under her arm into her office and slammed the door shut.


Principal Crestwood’s display of rage hadn’t gone unnoticed by the students. Cordelia Chase stood among her group of friends, watching the outburst. She’d never seen their principal that angry before which said a lot. She tuned out when her friends picked up their conversation again about the next party and who had or had not been invited, feeling more uncomfortable in her clothes than ever before.


Buffy had regarded the spectacle with wide eyes. When she had heard her own distorted voice pouring out the school speakers she had almost poured her coke all over herself. Then to witness Crestwood’s outburst and realize that someone actually had taken the trouble to connect the boom box to the school’s speaker system. It was all too much.








"I…I’m no one special you know. I’m just a girl with a radio. Hell, I didn’t even buy it myself, my parents did. I don’t know what I’m doing. If I did, I’d be out making out with some hot guy. But instead I’m sitting here-alone in my room, feeling sorry for myself. Oh screw it. I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of being ashamed. Amen! Oh god, I think I need to..oh God…” a wet soaking sound was heard, then loud moaning. “Oh god I’m gonna cum! Harder than ever before! Oh my goooooooooood!” Buffy rolled the water balloon between her hands, faster and faster, until she finally howled into the mike. “Holy shit! I just love coming hard and fast! I really need some music now”


Love comes in spurts (oh no it hurts)
Love comes in spurts (it hurts)
Love comes in spurts (oh no, cuz)
Love comes in spurts (it always hurts)

click

”Thanks for that, Blank Generation. Let’s see what we got here. A letter with a phone number. Let’s hear what one of my two listeners has got to say….This is Very Virgin Mary calling. Do you have anything to tell me?”
A giggle was heard, followed by a click and dial tone.

“Well thanks for the call.” Buffy sank back in her chair. “Too bad actually. I want to hear your secrets, hell it can be anything. As long as it is real. I want dirt, filth, I want cum and pee, god damn it! As long as it’s real. Well look here; another mail. With a phone number. Well here we go again. Wish me luck.” She punched the numbers.” By the way – don’t forget to mail me send a letter to Very Virgin Mary post-box 232, Burton Arizona.”

“Hello” a nasal female voice answered

“Hi there. Nice to hear that someone is listening out there. In you email you told me you want to kill yourself”

“Yes.”

“And how do you plan to do that?”

“Well duh, I’m gonna use my finger. I’ve got a gun.”

“All right. You sound like a gal with a plan. So why do you wanna kill yourself?”

“I’m lonely.”

“So are we all.”

“Not you.”

“What do you mean? I don’t have any friends. No boyfriend. I eat lunch alone. I spend time in the restroom so that no one will notice how alone I really am.”

“So we’re screwed then?”

“I don’t know.” Buffy slumped in her chair and closed her eyes.

“I have to go.”

click

“Wow! Now I’m depressed too. But luckily I’m too depressed to bother. Alone again. Here is me Very Virgin Mary on 92.4, the horniest woman on this side of the moon. But so be it.”


Welcome to Der Wienerschnitzel
May I take your order please?"
Yeah, I want:
Two large Cokes, two large fries
Chili-cheese dog, large Dr. Pepper
Super deluxe, with cheese and tomato
"You want Bill sperm with that?"
NO!


Buffy bounced up and down on her bed, eyes closed, almost naked. Making the springs squeak. Pillows were used as projectiles as they hit the walls, covers landing on the floor. A stuffed pig landed on the ceiling fan and swirled round and round as it was an amusement park visitor. She jumped until she lost her breath and her hand grabbed the mike. “I’m back! Now – keep one hand free. In my hand I’m holding another letter from Mr. eat-me-beat-me-guy. Okay. Let’s hear what he has to say this week. I know you are all eager to hear.” Buffy held up a red hand-written piece of paper “Come in. Every night you enter me like a criminal break into my brain. But you are no ordinary criminal. You put your feet up pop your Pepsi; you start to party. Jam me, jack me, push me, pull me, talk hard!”



In another room lit only by candlelight, across town, Spike listened to the words he’d written being spoken. Laying on his back. His hand sliding under the waistline of his jeans.

“You turn up my stereo, songs I’ve never heard but I move anyway
You get me crazy I say; do it!
I don’t care what, just do it.”


Spike’s hips arched of the bed, his buttocks clenching. One hand left his cock, he pulled his pubic hair a little, continued to slide his hand over his stomach, caressing his chest up to his nipples. He twisted them, seamen staining his hands seconds later. He pulled a pillow over his face and screamed into it, his hot breath leaving a wet stain on the fabric.



“Now this is interesting. It’s genuine. I like it. I bet you’d like me to call Eat-me-beat-me guy, but sorry, no number enclosed.“ Buffy stood and walked aimlessly around her room.
”Are you listening, eat-me-beat-me-guy? Are you out there?”

“Always” Spike whispered, his voice still raged.

“We are so alike, but we’ll never meet. You’d never look twice at me, if we met. Are you really this tough in real life? Or are you like me – someone who can’t get a smile out, someone who doesn’t fit in. Well…whatever. It’s a shitty deal.”

“Yeah, shitty deal” Spike repeated and slowly drift off as the radio went quiet.




End of Chapter 3.

Very Virgin Mary

Chapter 4



Spike was looking for Harmony. He hadn’t seen her in a couple of days and his need to find the girl behind the voice was growing stronger and stronger. He wanted to confront her, tell her that he knew who she really was and that he wanted to get to know her…among other things.


He searched for her in the hallway but didn’t see her, he hung around her classmates, but she was no where to be found. He felt more annoyed that he’d ever felt but finally the bell rang and he had to go to his own class.


He sat down behind his bench, not noticing that his English teacher watched the class with an unusual sad look on her face.


“I have something to tell you.” The low voice that Anne Hayworth used to say that one line stood in blatant relief to her usual cheery, up beat tone of voice. ”Something terrible has happened. Last night one of our students – Harmony Kendall – committed suicide. There will be a memorial service later this afternoon.”


Spike’s mind went blank for a second. Harmony…but. Very Virgin Mary had been on the air until at least midnight. Then it wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. Or could it? For a moment one could hear a needle falling to the floor in the room; then the silence was broken as the chubby new girl rushed out of the room. Acting on pure impulse, Spike followed her.


Buffy desperately needed air. She rushed through the school corridors, finding the entrance. The sun stung her eyes. The birds laughed at her. Her stomach turned. She walked aimlessly through the streets, the sun basked world around her taking on a shade of dark. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She double over and threw up, an orange and green mix spilling onto the payment.


Fifteen minutes later as she walked into the post office she hid her face behind a pair of black glasses and emptied her post-box. She tucked a pile of letters, including a red one, beneath her shirt. I’ll miss you Mr. Beat-me-eat-me guy.


She walked home, grateful when an empty house greeted her. Everything that normally empowered her, making her feel at home, now only seemed for what they were. Her small penis-shaped toys only seemed tacky; her posters of bands reminded her that most of the band members had died of over-dosing a long time ago, the stuffed animals on her bed seemed juvenile and ridiculous. The overfull wastebasket that she liked that way because she thought of it as a personal statement now only looked….dirty.


In a fit of rage she threw the piles of letters she’d received in a plastic bag, making sure to get all of them and then she walked out on the balcony and started up the grill. She emptied the bag over the grill, the letters soaring through the air like birds on a windy day. Then she drenched them in an excess of flammable liquid.


“What do you think you’re doing, luv?”


Buffy jumped in surprise and quickly spun to look behind her. A pair of feet in black heavy army boots, a pair of legs encased in black jeans, a torso dressed in a grey sweatshirt. Blond hair. She vaguely recognized him from school. One of those guys that weren’t jockeys but rather always looked a bit too moody for their own good.


“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna rat you out or anything” The blonde spoke.


Buffy didn’t say a word, but simply turned back to the grill, lit a match and let the flames feast on written words.


“It wasn’t your bloody fault you know”


Buffy watched the letters burn and crumble.


“Talk to me”


Buffy kept still and heard a frustrated snarl from behind her.


“Say something. Tell me to get the hell out. Just say something!”

“I can’t!”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I can’t talk to you!"


She walked back inside and left him behind. She was relieved when he didn’t follow. Buffy let out a breath, her body shaking. She crept under her bed and retrieved two beer cans, put on music and walked about the room, sipping beer and trying to get her emotions under control. Finally she sat down at her desk, flipping on the Air button. She leaned forward, taking the mike in both hands.


“I never said; don’t do it. I’m sorry. My god, I’m totally freaking out here. A girl decides to kill herself and everyone goes; oh whyyy, oh whyyy; when truth is; going to high school is sometimes less fun than being dead…”



In the staff room at Sunnydale High the teachers were having an extra meeting.
Counselor David Deaver shook his head “She’s only making it worse.”


Loretta Crestwood on the other hand lit up “Oh boy, now she just made it so easy for me to talk to the school board into giving me the resources to find out who she is and expel her.”



“…but I’m not saying that killing yourself is easy. Oh no. You are sitting there, and you have all these thought swimming in your head, you pull the trigger and then you lie there with shit in your shorts. And then people who never knew you are crying over you. And then what? You are sitting up there on your little cloud, playing your harp. Guess what; it’s fucking boring!”


“Buffy? Open the door right now!”


Never had she moved faster as she threw a cover over the transmitter and made a leap, worthy of an Olympic Games medal, to the couch just before her parents opened the door.


“Buffy what are you doing? Who are you talking to?”

“I’m reading. Aloud.”

“Do you think we are stupid?”

“She was talking to me” Spike came in from the balcony, having pulled off his sweater and now wearing a black t-shirt, his hair messy.

Hank and Joyce looked like their eyes were about to fall out their sockets as they regarded him. “Thank God. For a second there we thought she was that radio dj”.

“Dad!”

Joyce nudged Hank’s shoulder. “Buffy. You never told us you would have company.”

“Yeah.” Buffy tried to sound casual. “We are studying. This is…”

“William” William extended his hand to her parents.

“Well hello William” Hank greeted.

“Hello”

“Maybe we should leave you alone and let you get back to your..studying.” Joyce looked happy enough to burst. She nudged her husband’s shoulder. “All right. Bye…William.” Hank closed the door behind them.
And then nothing. Buffy just looked at the blonde who stared back.

“Do you know who I am?”


Buffy shook her head.


“But you do. Know me. I’m the eat-me.beat.me-guy”


Buffy backed up against the wall, Spike stepped closer.


“You don’t believe me?”


Buffy didn’t know what to say, it was all too much. And he was a guy. A guy!


“If you won’t come to me, I will come to you.” He placed one hand flat against the wall next to her head and leaned in close. She thought he was gonna kiss her. She closed her eyes, her lips separating slightly. Then the warm breath was gone. She opened her eyes and watched him walking out the balcony door, his coat flapping behind him. “So long, Mary”


Below in the kitchen Hank and Joyce smiled happily towards each other. Not only had they established that their daughter was not Very Virgin Mary, but that she also had a boyfriend. Everything would turn out well after all.




The End of Chapter 4.


tbc....