I bit my lip staring at the rack of books with unseeing eyes. I could feel their eyes burning into my back. A group of girls stood a few feet behind me whispering and giggling. I've seen them around school, they're two grades bellow me. My eyes darted around nervously; it felt like everyone was staring at me.

“Mom said she wants to pay,” Emma said softly from next to me.

I nodded, following her silently with my head bowed and eyes on my shoes. This was the one thing I hated about the end of the summer. The school shopping a week before school started up again. We use to do it a whole lot earlier but it seemed that we were running late this year. The shops were filled with families looking for all the stuff. I hated shopping.

We reached my parents a few minutes later. My dad gave me a disapproving stare before walking off. It's always the same thing with him. No matter what I did he never seemed satisfied with me. I've tried my best doing things I didn't even want to do just because he liked it. He gave more attention to Sam and Emma than he did to me. He would praise Emma for getting fifty percent on a test but with me, he would always mutter 'You can do better.’

That's why I'm always worried about school and studying until I'm sick. I just wanted my dad to be proud of me like he was of my other siblings. Sometimes I wondered if it was because I looked nothing like him. My brother, Brad, was a younger replica of him. While my sisters had his nose and hair colour, my hair was lighter and my eyes a different colour than theirs. Everyone in our family had dark blue eyes while mine were Cornflower blue; a lighter shade that caught unwanted attention.

When I was younger I thought I looked more like my mother, but as I grew older my hair and eye colour changed. 

“Right. We only need to get those plastic files you need Alia,” my mom said, glancing up from the list.

“And a new school skirt with some shirts,” I muttered, softly.

“Maybe if you stop eating all the junk food we wouldn't need to buy you new clothes every month,” my dad spoke up.

“Michael!” My mom glared at him.

“What?” He pointed at me. “She eats two plates of food and uses her money at school to buy-”

“Shut up!” My mom placed her hand on my arm, giving it a squeeze.

I avoided her gaze as the pain settled in my chest. Self-consciously my hand moved to my stomach. Shame washed through when I remembered checking my school clothes. The zip and button of the skirt wouldn't close at all and the white shirts were too tight over my boobs. Was it really because of all the second plates I ate and the food I got from the school cafeteria?

“You can pay, Alia and I will go get some shirts. We can get the other school clothes tomorrow, Emma needs to check hers too,” mom said softly.

She took my arm leading me out of the store and into the mall. “Don't mind your father, honey.” She wrapped her arm around my shoulders squeezing me against her side. “You're growing up, your body is changing. It's something men don't understand.”

“But it's true,” I glanced up at her, “my skirt won't fit because I've gained weight. My hips are bigger than they were last year. And even my shirts won't close all the way!”

“Alia, your shirts won't close because your boobs have gotten bigger.” My face heated in embarrassment. “It's normal, clothes shrink as time passes. You've had the same clothes since the two schools merged. There is absolutely nothing wrong with your weight, honey. Nothing.”

I smiled, wrapping my arm around her waist to hug her back. My mom was always there to pick up the pieces my dad left. Sometimes it was a blessing and other times… let's just say it gets too much. I loved my mom for always being there, but a part of me hated her for not doing anything. She allowed him to walk over me; she stayed silent until he said what he wanted before speaking up. The damage of his words was already done then and it couldn't be taken back.

“We'll buy two packs of shirts,” she said. “One the right size and the other a size bigger, just in case.”

I nodded, following her silently into the store. Thankfully it wasn't as packed as all the other places. I could try on the shirts without whispers following my every move. My intuition tells me that my last year of school was going to be hell. And I wasn't just talking about the worries of the exams and everything, I was certain that the students will make my life hell.

* * *

I stood silently to the side watching my mom arguing with Emma. She just turned twelve a few weeks ago, now she thought she knew everything. Then there's my nine month old sister– the newest member of the family– crying because she wanted her pacifier.

My sister, Tyler, was the first born and about nine years older than me. She married Patrick a few months after meeting him at some social event. He's a pretty cool guy. At first I thought he was fucking scary, but after spending some time with him, I realized he wasn't so bad. They've been married for four years now and were trying for a baby.

Then there's my brother, Brad. He's four years older than me. He took off right after finishing school, much to my parents’ disappointment. My father thought he would go to college and then police academy like him. Instead he decided to travel the world with a bunch of friends. We rarely sew him anymore. He still called sometimes but he barely had time to utter a few words.

Then there's me; Alia the seventeen year old virgin. I'm the quiet, shy girl that was obsessed with school. The girl that always worried about what people thought of her.

My sister, Emma, was the total opposite of me. She's the loud, bubbly twelve year old of the family. When she's happy, she talked, and by that I mean she never shuts up.

Sam was, well Sam. I don't really know how to describe the baby of the family. She was cute with big blue eyes and curly brown hair. Most of my mother's time was spent at home with her.

“Alia.” I blinked, turning to look at my mother.

Emma stood next to her with a smug smile tugging at her lips. That smile meant two things; she managed to get me in trouble for something I didn't do. Or I was going to be forced to do something I didn't want to do. 

“Yes?” I questioned softly.

“Take your sister to the shop for me please.”

My eyes narrowed on my sister. Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned back against the counter. “Why?”

“Because I'm telling you too,” my mom glared at me. “I'm not telling you again.”

  “Fine!” I rolled my eyes walking down the hall to my room.

I pulled on a clean T-shirt and my shoes then grabbed my car keys from the hook on my wall.

"Let's go egghead!" I yelled, before walking out of the house.

My car was parked in the driveway next to the family car. I quickly got into the car then leaned back against the seat as I waited for my sister. We managed to buy me a few skirts without any hassles. Emma exit the house zipping her bag shut as she walked towards the car.

“The usual place.”

I got my driver’s license when I turned sixteen and got the car as a birthday gift from Patrick. I loved having a car, especially when I wanted to go out with my friends. Since my dad worked late most times and my mom was too busy I didn't have to rely on them to drive me around.

Each of us had chores to do around the house. We get a monthly allowance based on that. So I thankfully didn't have to worry about fuel money and other monthly stuff. 

I parked the car at one of the small local shops, a place that knew us all bad. My eyes fell on the girl at the cash register as we entered. She gave me a small smile, but I knew what that smile meant. 

“What do you want to buy?” I asked my sister.

She shrugged but made a beeline for the candy isles. Of course that's what she wanted to buy for school. That girl ate too much candy.

We've been in the shop for a total of two minutes when the whispering and stares started. There were a few kids from school. I hated being the centre of attention. Hated having them talk about me behind my back; whispering about my lack of knowledge about sex. Not even the fact that one of my best friends was gay had made the talk of the town. I'm tired of being the talk of town.

I don't want to be a virgin anymore. But I couldn't just randomly walk up to a guy and say; "Hey I'm tired of being a virgin, will you fuck me?"

Hell no! I want it to be special at least, something to remember and not something that I would regret. I've never had a boyfriend in my life; well I don't think dating in second grade counted.

I'm a virgin in every aspect of the word. But I knew for a fact that losing my virginity wasn't going to be so easy or the way I wanted to lose it.

Though, one thing was for certain, I'm definitely losing my virginity before my last year of school ends.