Here's another new idea of mine. Thanks for convincing me to do this Gosha!

Based on a book I read.

The Virginity Club

ch.1

Launch Gun dreaded meeting with her guidance counselor. She dreaded it more than a dental appointment and final exams put together. And that was saying something. Mrs. Babella was everything Launch was not. Mrs. Babella was big, pushy, and loud. She smelled constantly of cigarettes and cinnamon gum, which was enough to make a girl heave.

But somewhere along the way she had adopted Launch as her very own charity case. She was constantly complimenting Launch on how smart she was, how motivated she was, how she could do anything she set her mind to if she just would come out of her shell already and reach for the stars. (She also had a whole problem of mixing metaphors.)

Reach for the stars? Yeah right. Launch couldn't even reach for the salt and pepper.

Going to see Mrs. Babella was right up there on Launch's personal torture list with oral reports and peer critique days in creative-writing class. So that morning when she walked into her homeroom to find the little blue slip on her desk to go directly to the counselor's office, she knew it was going to be a bad day. No good day started with a visit to Mrs. Babella.

Launch sat back into the vinyl couch in the waiting room, her knees pressed together and her ankles separated. She glanced at the clock. She'd already missed ten minutes of her first hour chemistry class. Maybe by the time she got back to class, they would be done going over homework. At least she would miss the waiting-to-get-called-on sweats. (number four on her personal torture list).

The perky guidance secretary looked over at her and gave her one of those don't-worry-I-haven't-forgotten-you're-here smiles. Launch quickly turned away. Eye contact was not one of her talents.

"Launch!" Mrs. Babella's voice boomed through the office. "There you are girl! I have fabulous news! Mrs. Treemont kicked the bucket last night!"

Everyone in the outer office looked over at Mrs. Babella, standing in her cubicle doorway in her pink flowered blouse with a huge bow over her chest. Her glasses were suspended from a beaded string around her neck, and they hung right off the edge of her bosom shelf, swaying back and forth. It took a lot for the other members of the guidance office to look at Mrs. Babella in shock or wonder. They were used to her. But she'd just announced that the oldest, most revered and mysterious resident of Ardsmore, Pennsylvania had died. And she's done it with a gleeful grin.

Launch scrambled out of her seat and slid past Babella and into her office, figuring that was the only way to break the uncomfortable silence in the outer office. Babella closed the door after her and lowered herself into her chair. Launch clutched her backpack and waited for the counselor to speak.

"It's your lucky day, Launch Gun," Mrs. Babella stated, slapping Launch's knee. "That Treemont lady didn't seemed like she had much while she was alive, but it looks like she was just sitting on her wad up in that old house, waiting to surprise us all."

'Ooookay,' Launch thought. 'What'd she do before she died…give birth to twin baby aliens or something? Of course, I don't know how that would make this a my lucky day.' Mrs. Babella took a gulp of her coffee and looked at Launch, expectantly. Launch got that sinking feeling in her stomach saying that it was her turn to speak. Her mouth went dry. What was she supposed to say?

"Well, aren't you going to ask me why that makes this your lucky day?" Babella asked.

Oh, how Launch hated this game. Mrs. Babella was always trying to trick her into talking by asking Launch questions. If only Babella could see Launch with her friends, then she would see only teachers intimidated her. Well, most adults actually. And cute guys. And older girls, or more confident ones.

"Why is it my lucky day?" Launch finally managed to ask. Mrs. Babella grinned in victory and triumph.

"Because old lady Treemont has set up a scholarship, and I know you are going to win it by a long shot," Mrs. Babella answered. "Her people faxed this over within an hour of her passing. It was waiting in our machine this morning." She picked up a piece of paper from her desk and cleared her throat and began to read it. "The Victoria A. Treemont scholarship will be awarded to a student in the senior class of Ardsmore High School who meets the following requirements; he or she must have a grade point average of 3.2 or higher; he or she must have demonstrated commitment to school and community; he or she must submit three recommendations from faculty, community members, and peers. Also, he or she must submit an essay demonstrating his or her qualifications for the scholarship, and he or she must exemplify purity of soul and body."

Launch blinked. As Babella had been reading of the requirements the more intrigued she had became: But purity of the soul and body?

'Shouldn't this scholarship have been meant for a nunnery?' she thought.

Mrs. Babella put the paper back down on her desk and turned to face Launch with a beaming smile.

"Now, you can take the last part any way you want, but I know you'll have no trouble as long as you've kept the rabbit out of the hen house if you know what I mean," even as Mrs. Babella spoke the words Launch covered her blue eyes with her hand. Someone outside the fogged-glass snickered.

'Oh my Kami. She's the devil,' Launch thought. 'I'm sitting in Satan's cubicle.'

Launch sank lower in her chair if possible, turning ten shades of red. The subject of sex had seemed to be coming up a lot lately, even among her friends. It was like there was a sudden dearth of worthy topics in the world and they'd been left to gab endlessly of the one thing Launch knew nothing about. Something she didn't want to know about.

"I…uh," Launch didn't know what to say.

"I don't know how they are even going to prove weather or not you're a virgin, mind you, but I believe that's that old Treemont was getting at with that last line of requirements. And besides, you meet all the other requirements and then some. It doesn't matter if you've done it," Babella continued. "Sweetie, this scholarship is forty thousand dollars a year for four years! You could go to Wesleyan. You could go anywhere you want to go to with that kind of money."

Suddenly every last disturbed thought in Launch's head was replaced by a vision of her in a heather gray Wesleyan sweatshirt, walking around the luscious campus, chatting with other students…students who understood poetry and writing and didn't think that recounting their latest baseball victory and making it rhyme qualified as literary magazine material like some of the students of this school did.

"There's an informational session at the beginning of fifth period tomorrow, and I expect you to be there," Mrs. Babella told her. "Got it?"

Launch sat up straight and gingerly held out her hand. Mrs. Babella handed her the paper of information for the scholarship of a lifetime.

An unfamiliar fluttering of hope danced around inside Launch's chest. She had a 3.6 GPA, at the very least. And she volunteered three times a week at 4-H. And she could probably get three people who would recommend her in a heartbeat. And an essay? No problem. Plus, she was probably the only at senior at Ardsmore who hadn't ever been kissed yet let alone have sex. You couldn't get much purer that that. She could do this.

She looked up at Mrs. Babella's beaming face, took a deep breath, and asked an important question, "There's no interview, is there?"

"I can't believe she gave me a C-plus. ME! I've never had a C-anything in my entire life!" Bulma Briefs said, shaking her history paper in front of Chi-Chi and Eighteen's faces. "This is insane. That woman is insane! Does she know who I am!"

Chi-Chi Olsen and Eighteen Lee exchanged a smile. "Well, maybe Ms. Ross just didn't agree with your hypothesis that the Allies' most functional uniforms helped them win World War 2," Chi-Chi suggested helpfully.

"What? You don't think that function versus form in military uniforms is a factor?" Bulma asked. "You really think our guys would have done as well if they'd had to be sitting in those trenches with those tight German pants riding up their butt cracks? No. Soldiers need to be able to move. Whoever designed our uniforms helped us win the war I tell you. That person was a fashion genius."

"Oookay, Vera Wang. Whatever you say," Eighteen shoved her hands in the pockets of her baggy cargo pants and headed toward her locker.

Bulma wasn't surprised by Eighteen's lack of appreciation of her cutting-edge history paper. The girl dressed more like a guy than most of the guys at their school. Still, somehow she had managed to make it work for her. Bulma had to appreciate that miracle.

"Hey guys!" Launch greeted, pushing away from the wall where she'd been waiting for them. "You're not going to believe this. There's this new scholarship and…" she was cut off before she could finish.

"We know," Bulma interrupted. "Everyone's talking about it. Forty g's a year. Fashion institute, here I come."

"Uh, no. I don't think so," Eighteen put in. "Cornell, here I come. Or wherever I decide I want to go with the scholarship."

"Oh, you guys are applying too?" Launch asked her face falling.

"I'm not," Chi-Chi replied putting a few strands of raven hair behind her ear.

Bulma glanced at Chi-Chi. There were a lot of things she didn't have to worry about. Her college applications, finding a boyfriend, her hair… Bulma shrugged. 'If I wasn't such a babe myself, I'd have to kill her,' she thought, smirking.

"Thank Kami for that. If Miss All-American had applied, we'd all be screwed," Eighteen stated with a roll of the eyes.

Launch leaned back into the wall again, looking deflated. "Well, if you guys are going to do it, maybe…" again she was interrupted.

"Don't even finish that sentence, Launch Gun," Chi-Chi ordered. "You have as much a shot at this thing as everyone else."

"More so if the whole purity thing turns out not to be a joke." Eighteen popped open her locker and, as always, a mess of tangled clothes, CD cases, and notebooks slipped out onto the floor. Eighteen used the side of her leg to push it all back in as Bulma flattened the locker door back against the wall so she could check her hair in Eighteen's mirror.

"If that turns out not to be a joke, I'm in trouble," Bulma stated.

"You're not even going to need Treemont's money," Chi-Chi told her. "You're gonna win that FIT scholarship, remember."

Bulma's stomach turned. At that very moment the postman could be putting in an envelope determining her fate with FIT. The envelope. She had sent her scholarship application in weeks ago, along with her audition piece—a deep crimson, V-necked, Asian inspired dress with a tulle lining. Some days she was sure she was going to snag a class there, others she could just as easily picture her creation in the admission's office in the rejection pile. To be burned.

"It's always good to have a backup plan just in case," Bulma stated, sounding more like her father by the moment.

"Yeah, but I thought the Math and Science competition was your backup plan," Chi-Chi implied.

"Luckily that thing can be the backup backup plan," Bulma said. She took a silver tube out of her makeup bag and applied lip-gloss. She pushed a strand of her blue hair behind her ear. "I'm going to get that fashion scholarship," she said smiling at her reflection. "Then, just in case that doesn't work out, there's the Treemont, and if that doesn't work there's the Math and Science Competition, maybe."

Her father might be counting on her to winning the statewide competition of science and math, but Bulma had other plans for the future. Like never opening a science textbook in her life if she could help it.

"Hey, Bulma, did you hook up with Satalo Perano last weekend?" Chi-Chi asked.

"He asked me out but he's a junior, besides that he's my neighbor," Bulma stated turning her gaze from the mirror to look at Chi-Chi. "Why do you ask?"

"Because he's showing off your bra to his friends," Chi-Chi said pointing to a bunch of boys. Sure enough, a large group of salivating boys were in front of Satalo's locker and Bulma saw a flash of pink lace. She snapped her lipstick shut and shook her head.

She walked over to the boys and most of them saw her coming and wisely moved out of the way for her to get to Satalo. "Hi, Satalo."

The boy was petrified. "Hey, Bulma."

"Can I have my bra back? How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak into my house and steal a bra? I know you have issues but this is low," Bulma stated.

The group of boys laughed while the embarrassed Satalo handed her bra back. With that done, she headed back to her friends and stuffed the bra in her locker. "Grr…boys."

"What was that in the scholarship material about purity of the soul and body?" Eighteen joked, bringing a fingertip to her chin.

"Ha ha. I'm laying off guys for awhile. All of them around here are so immature," Bulma said.

"Hey, as long as they draw the line at virginity, Bulma has no problem," Chi-Chi stated.

Eighteen's jaw dropped. "Oh, wait a minute here. Are you telling me you're actually a virgin?" she asked in disbelief.

"Why is everyone always so surprised by that? Just because I've had a few boyfriends," Bulma question in confusion.

"It's the tattoo rule!" Chi-Chi and Launch shouted in unison.

"What the hell is the tattoo rule?" Eighteen asked.

"All right. We have been hanging out a lot since you moved here, so you seem trustworthy enough. But you should feel honored because not everybody gets to join the Tattoo Club," Bulma stated.

"Sounds pretty intense," Eighteen joked.

Bulma looked around to see if the coast was clear, then tilted her head toward a darkened classroom and headed to it. Eighteen, obviously intrigued, followed along with Chi-Chi and Launch. Once in the room, Bulma unbuttoned her denim skirt and lowered it to her waistline, revealing a bumblebee tattoo near her hipbone.

"Hey, that's pretty cool," Eighteen said.

"Thanks, I did it myself," Bulma boasted.

"Why a bee?" Eighteen asked.

"Because I sting like a bee," Bulma replied.

"Okay, but I still don't get it. What exactly is the tattoo rule?" Eighteen asked as the four of them moved back into the hall.

"This tattoo got me grounded for six months from watching TV last year," Bulma explained, frowning. "If I'm ever going to show this tattoo to a guy, he'll have to be someone really special to me."

"Well, I'm honored to be admitted into the club," Eighteen stated reverently as she shifted to books in her arms, "So, then I guess you've never been in love?"

"Have you seen the guys in this town?" Bulma smirked. "Puh-lease."

"Have you ever been in love?" Chi-Chi asked. Eighteen had only moved to Ardsmore from Lake Tahoe, Nevada at the beginning of the school year, there were so many vital details the girls had yet to discover.

"Once. At least I thought I was," Eighteen said.

"What was it like?" Launch asked.

"In a word? Disastrous," Eighteen answered matter-of-factly.

Eighteen looked really sad for a second but then she cleared her throat. Her eyes flickered to Chi-Chi and smirked. "Well, we know one of us is a lost cause," Eighteen added.

Chi-Chi's brow knitted in confusion, but a second later she giggled when a pair of arms circled around her waist.

"Can I walk a beautiful lady to class?" Goku Son, Chi-Chi's Mr. Right, asked, nuzzling her neck.

Bulma looked at Launch and stuck her finger into her mouth, fake gagging.

Chi-Chi saw this and whacked her arm. "I'll see you guys later," she stated starting to walk away.

"I'll come with," Launch said, scurrying to catch up.

Eighteen followed Goku and Chi-Chi with her eyes. "Have they always been that mushy?" she asked turning to Bulma.

"It was even worse when they first got together," Bulma replied. "They went through this whole baby-talk phase. I couldn't be around them and food at the same time. It gave me the heaves." She returned to her reflection in the mirror. "So anyway, you're definitely going to go out for the competition, right? Because your parents are do-gooders who can't be bothered with money…"

"And you're going to go out for the scholarship because there's no scratch left in the college pot now that three Briefs brothers have already cashed in," Eighteen added. "Well, that and the whole exerting-your-independence thing."

"Exactly. I have to get the money from somewhere," Bulma pointed out. "I mean, how the hell did Teddy Junior end up in Penn State? We all had thought he'd live a life in and out of rehab, jails, and mental institutions."

"It's just proof of the extent to which your father can put the fear of Kami into a person," Eighteen stated.

Bulma nodded. There wasn't a single soul who'd come in contact with stoic, larger-than-life Mr. Briefs who wasn't mortally frightened of him. Not even Eighteen was immune to the icy glare he could muster. Bulma shuddered thinking about it.

"You got that right," Bulma said.

Launch's locker was closest to the cafeteria, so she always got there before her friends to save their table. This time alone, watching the rest of the students in fifth-period lunch stream through the doors, was her favorite part of the day. Launch sat and opened her writing book, which she put upon her lap and jotted down various details about her classmates.

Tina Morales continues her antishaving protest. It's Day 13 and her leg hair is beginning to braid itself.

Does Dasha Horowitz not notice that her foundation is ten times darker than the skin on her neck?

And then she saw him—just a glimpse of his shiny bald head through the slim window in the wooden door of the entrance—and she stopped breathing. Tien Shinhan. He was laughing as he entered the caf, glancing over his shoulders to look at his buddies. Launch would have murdered to know what they were laughing about.

He's wearing his Mr. Bubbles T-shirt today, she wrote her hand becoming shaky, You've gotta love a guy in a Mr. Bubbles T-shirt.

Actually, Launch would love this guy no matter what T-shirt he was wearing. He didn't care what other guys thought of him, and for that Launch admired him. He was so unlike all the other guys at Ardsmore High School.

And Launch had been fantasizing about him regularly since he'd arrived. There was the fantasy of how he'd first approach her—when he came up to her to compliment her on her latest poem in the school magazine and how it had touched his heart. There was the one she had made of their first kiss, in candlelight and champagne…

Even her friends knew about that one—the fantasy first kiss—but she never told them who the guy was. That part of the daydream was her little secret. Besides, it's not like it was ever going to happen. Launch couldn't approach any guy, let alone a man of perfection like Tien Shinhan.

"Hey,"

Launch blinked. Tien and his friends had walked by her table and he had lifted his chin and said "hey". Was he talking to her? Was that possible or another fantasy?

'Oh Kami. What if he was talking to me and I didn't say anything and I was just staring into space like a complete wastoid?' Launch thought. 'Did I just use the word wastoid?' This was at least worth ten pages of rambling.

"So, any special requests for your birthday, sweetness?" Goku asked as he stopped his car in front of Chi-Chi's house that afternoon after practice—football for him, volleyball for her—so he could drive her home. Chi-Chi's car had been in the shop to get its oil changed and tires rotated that morning. Now, it was in her driveway.

"You don't have to get me anything," Chi-Chi stated.

"Yeah, like that's going to happen," Goku said.

"Well…whatever," Chi-Chi said, happily. "If it's from you I'm sure it'll be perfect."

"Speaking of…" Goku pulled his backpack out of the backseat and Chi-Chi smiled. It was October 15.

"You know what today is," Goku stated pulling a small black box out of the bag.

"Goku, you really got to stop doing this," Chi-Chi insisted, though she loved. Goku grinned as she opened the box revealing a tiny crystal penguin.

"Oh, it's so sweet!" Chi-Chi exclaimed.

Ever since their first-month "anniversary" Goku had been giving her a Swarovski crystal animal on the fifteenth of every month like clockwork. Chi-Chi had been collecting them since she was eight, but thanks to Goku that collection was past impressive.

Chi-Chi still remembered how pleased and surprised she was when he gave he the first one—a tiny sparkling dolphin. He'd only been in her room once by then and had asked about it casually. But that was Goku. He was probably the most thoughtful guy in the whole world.

She closed the box and kissed his right cheek. "You're the sweetest boyfriend ever," she stated.

Goku grinned. "What can I say?" he joked.

"Now you really don't have to give me a present on my birthday," Chi-Chi said.

"Well, I was thinking, my parents are going to be away that weekend and since my brother is off in college, and since we've been talking about it lately," Goku trailed off.

Chi-Chi's heart quickened. "Nothing's been decided decided," she implied though she already knew the answer. Goku was going to be her first. She loved him more than anything: and that was all that mattered to her. But furthermore besides that if they kept up the things they've been going and not actually having sex, she was going to explode. So this was her decision.

She bit her bottom lip as Goku leaned forward to kiss her. After a few blissful minutes they parted.

"Just say you'll think about it," he said.

"Oh I will," Chi-Chi promised.

She gave him a seducing smile that made her feel naughty. It was a nice change.

Tell me what you thought!

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