In The Grave

Puberty and Fanfiction

Puberty is a hard thing for most people. Girls have it the worst of course, just as we do in life. Our bodies start to betray us, fight us, and of course you also now have the ability to birth a child. I was only eleven when I started my period. I was still in 6th grade, and I was one of the girls who had started to develop before the others. I'd skipped the training bra phase and had gone straight into wearing an A cup bra. I was noticed by the boys who were just now starting to be attracted to girls like dogs. I didn't care for boys until at least middle school. But of course I didn't like anyone I actually knew, I only thought I stood a chance with the famous guys from Disney channel and big time movie stars. Nothing much has changed there either. So by the time I made it to middle school, the first day, the first week, felt like everyone was looking at each other with so many judgements. I tried to keep my head down, and If I happened to make friends along the way so be it. But I was shy, quiet, sat in the corner and waited for my classes to be over so I could go straight home. It lasted for a few weeks, before I had to speak to him. Mathew Saladin. I only knew his name because he'd been called for class the first two weeks, due to the teachers struggling to memorize our names. I hated to say that I was who I was whenever my name was called. Everyone turned to look at who was saying "here" every single time. Including Mathew. Then when we were finally assigned seats in history class, Mathew was placed beside me along with a few other kids in our small group. They wanted us all to introduce ourselves to our table mates. The last thing I wanted to do. Mathew immediately turned to me, sticking his hand out to me, trying desperately to look me in the eye but I avoided it. I placed my hand in his, embarrassed.
"Mathew. You're Bria." He said
Shit. He was actually also paying attention to the roll call.
I gave him a small nod.
"I think we also have Math together." He said
"Oh..." was all I could manage, pulling out my binder from my bag, it was covered in photos of Robert Pattinson.
He smiled at the sight of it.
I could feel him occasionally taking glances at me to see if I was looking back, but I never did. I was terrified to look at anyone really. When the bell rang to leave class I gathered my things as quickly as possible to make it to math in time. Our passing period was a real joke in middle school. Who can get across an entire campus in only four minutes?
Mathew rushed to catch up to my side.
"Hey Bria, mind if I walk with you?" He asked.

He was genuinely being nice, I just somehow didn't want to trust it. Like he was just another boy who was seeking bad intentions. But I gave in.

"Sure." I said, not saying anything else the rest of the walk to math. He stayed about a step or two behind me the whole time and I was afraid he might've been looking at my ass or something. But that is also just me being paranoid and insecure.

It wasn't what I might consider "walking with". But I didn't have the heart to be mean back then.

I was never good at math. It seemed it was almost inevitable as everyone else in my household was also bad at it. Mom found me a math tutor when I was in 5th grade, she tutored me all the way through my junior year of high school, where I finally was able to be given the option of not taking math my senior year, which I jumped at the opportunity to do so.
Our math teacher was some Russian guy who couldn't have been an older that 27 if that. He had an accent that was sometimes hard to follow, but it didn't matter, it was pre-algebra and I didn't get much of it anyway.

I would try, but then the curriculum would lose me at some point in every lesson and I scrambled and managed to never get lower than a C in any of my math classes. So that was a small win for me. I never say near Mathew in this class, he was always kept in the corner with a few girls who could've burned a hole into the back of his head with the way they stared at him.

He never spoke to them unless he absolutely had to, for something math related. Occasionally I'd look at him and he'd just smile before I turned back around. We didn't become friends right away. In fact it wasn't a friendship I could've predicted. However, he was one of the first couple of people I ever spoke to to start off middle school. We ended up talking more in history, eventually our table always got in trouble for arguing. Throwing things at each other, and really just messing around. But of course Mathew took most of the fall for the group, being eventually separated, but still having a smile on his face as he was placed in the corner by himself the rest of the year.

I'd even tried to staple his hands, and poke at him with scissors. But he remained.

By the time we'd reached 8th grade, we were friends. We only saw each other in the hallways and some of his friends became acquaintances of mine. My best friends were both the ones I stuck to throughout the remained of the middle stage that was middle school. We didn't get each others actual phone numbers until we'd started freshman year of high school. Through one of my best friends who'd gotten it while on a field trip with Mathew.

She's given it to me and I must've had more guts that day than I did after. But I messaged him. I immediately regretted it, thinking he'd think I was weird and a stalker for getting his number from someone else.

He responded one afternoon after school. And never mentioned it. In fact seemed happy to hear from me for more than the 2 seconds it took to say hi in the hallways as we passed each other.

The next day I saw him at school, walking with him as he followed me into one of the buildings where my locker was, and me and my best friends met to talk in the hallway every morning before class started.

He stood there. Not entirely engaged in our conversations as they were more than likely considered extremely boring to him. The newest twilight movie, a one direction obsession I never took part in, and fanfiction.

I would poke at him to speak, but he always seemed much too shy too. I would worry he didn't want to be friends anymore.

I always worried people would lose interest in me. People wouldn't like me. Which I think was something I would remain overly concerned about into my adult years.

I felt we didn't ever need to say too much for him to know exactly everything I was thinking and felt.

Eventually I became the friend who did all the talking while he just listened, and occasionally smiled at me over something ridiculous I'd said, some stupid joke I'd failed to make. But I made him smile, made him laugh. From what I noticed around us, not very many people could.

I felt special the more we talked. We eventually swapped numbers and he'd send me a text everyday after school once I was home.

We talked about random things, and eventually life got in the way. Life started to challenge me in my home life, my parents were arguing, and it became a usual thing I shouldn't have grown used to, but I did. Being the oldest, takes its toll on you as a kid.

Bragging a lot about how I didn't need to ever talk about my problems seemed like a good idea as a teenager. I had convinced myself of it.

As my younger sister started elementary school, we ended up being released from school around the same time, and having to be dropped off in the morning around the same time as well.

Mom had decided that my dad would be taking me to school in the morning while she took my sister.

I never argued the idea, but I didn't like the idea. Awkward car rides with a man who'd had never really bothered to try and hide that I wasn't his favorite child, let alone his real child at all. The man responsible for the mental health I'd have to battle the rest of my life. What could go wrong?