Just then Fee swished over to the table looking less than ecstatic in her beautiful gown. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing.” She saw the chocolate balls on the plate, grabbed one and popped it in her mouth, hardly chewing before she swallowed. Then she grabbed the other one and did the same.
I could see Jinny was annoyed that I hadn’t eaten one of the stupid chocolate balls. She didn’t seem to care that Fee ate two. When Dee and Zee and Brooky eventually joined us, she didn’t offer to go get ganache thingies for them. I didn’t think that much of it at the time. We just stood at the little table waiting for the festivities to start, watching all the virgins waltz in with their dads, listening to Jinny snark.
“Look at that one with the braids. She must know we can totally see her huge areolas through that polyester disaster. Does she think that’s sexy? Reverend Jagger hates that.”
Um. No. Jagger doesn’t hate that, was all I could think. Those big nips would prolly, literally, make him spoo in his jeans. I tried to catch Fee’s eye, but she was staring at the floor.
Jinny looked like a goddess in her gossamer gown. Minimal makeup, soft updo. Next to Feliza Lopez—just my opinion—the most beautiful virgin there. Why couldn’t Jinny just leave everyone else the fuck alone? I definitely wondered what she’d say about me if I walked away.
We daddies and daughters from Oakwood Circle were going to sit at the head table with the Reverend Jagger Jonze, which made all of the other girls hate us, which is not always a terrible feeling. I mean, if I’m being honest, when you’re hated on for being rare, or having something special, it kinda makes you feel legit. When we were called to go take our seats, Jagger Jonze did not look any of us—except Jinny Hutsall—in the eye. I wanted to ask the girls if they’d noticed, but discussion about Jagger Jonze had become verboten after what happened at the Hutsalls’ on orientation night.
The dads didn’t know anything about that, though. As far as they were concerned, Jagger Jonze was the perfect bro. He could talk sports, music, economics, politics and God, and when a guy goes to the bathroom, Jonze will not be hitting on his daughter or wife or sister. His celibacy is part of what makes him so appealing.
Fee leaned over and whispered to me that her stomach felt weird, and I thought maybe she was sad or whatever about her real father not being there. I wondered if I should offer to drive her home, but just then Jagger Jonze grabbed his guitar and jumped up on the stage to sing “Thank God for American Girls” as throngs of virgins gathered around his designer high-tops.
The Hive hung back at the edges of the crowd, all except Jinny, who stormed the stage with the rest, singing along at the top of her lungs. The rest of us, without discussing it, kept our distance. None of us, well, except Jinny, I guess, could see the Reverend as anything more than a fraud, not to mention a freak. On orientation night—well, Gloryentation is what he called it—the rehearsal for the virtue ceremony, Jagger Jonze showed the Hive who he really is.
But I didn’t know that when I first agreed to the whole AVB thing. I was jumping off the cliff just to go along with my friends. Stupid. Just like Shelley always said. I do suffer from fear of missing out, but more than that, I’ve been suffering from fear of losing my best friends to Jinny Hutsall. Look what happened tonight, with Brooky and Delaney and Zara. I mean, it didn’t happen overnight, but it did happen over time. I’d been right to worry.
Reverend Jagger Jonze must be stopped. To save the world from his music, and from other, darker things that I will definitely be writing about. I’m done being quiet about liars and frauds.
Tonight at the ball he debuted a new song, “Marry Me, Merilee.” ‘Nuff said. When the screaming and applause died down, it was time to take the chastity vow. Fee was looking really pale at that point, but she gave me a thumbs-up.
We made two long lines on either side of the white-carpeted aisle—daddies on one side, daughters on the other. Baby brides and daddy grooms lit by romantic flickering candlelight. Reverend Jagger instructed our fathers to reach across the