During the summer before eighth grade, I started dating someone else, one of my best friends. That whole relationship was, and still is, a huge problem for me. Going into eighth grade, I was more experienced than anyone else in the grade, even the girls that everyone called sluts, or skanks.
I remember telling one of my close, but not best friends, everything that happened, everything we did. And she was surprised - surprised would be an understatement, really. She was one of the girls that everyone thought was a slut, and she hadn’t done half the things I had done.
I just shrugged my shoulders and laughed like it wasn’t a big deal; that I wasn’t potentially ruining my life and it didn’t seem to matter. No one really expected it out of me. Well, maybe they did after the rumors the year before. But no one really said anything about what happened, which was good.
And the fact that my boyfriend was from another town was also a really good thing. He, of course, told everyone in his town what we did. Hardly anyone in my town knew about anything though. Only three or four people in my town really talked to my boyfriend, besides myself. And if they talked shit about me, obviously they were going to get it from him. That’s probably why no one said anything about it in my school. No one knew, and, if they did, they didn’t dare tell a soul.
I can say my boyfriend was a little intimidating, and he was a bit older, so no one really wanted to defy him. But everyone in his town…they could talk. Everyone there thought I was a whore. That wasn’t so much of a problem though, considering I didn’t have to hear about it daily.
Going on, that boyfriend is why I am like I am. That was my best friend; the guy, at the time, I believed I loved. Of course I didn’t, but I thought I did. I gave him my everything. Except that wasn’t enough to stop him from cheating on me with at least eight different girls.
I don’t think it would have bothered me as much if he wasn’t my best friend, if I didn’t depend on him so much. I mean, I could never imagine doing that to any of my friends, never mind my closest one. Multiple times. It still bothers me.
I think, even at that young age, my feelings were more developed than everyone else’s. This would only make sense, because I don’t think anyone could or should feel all the things I did at any time in their life.
He? My best friend? My boyfriend? Well, he’s the reason. He’s the reason I’m like this. He’s the reason I’m so fucked up. I wish he was the only one to blame, though.
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She Doesn't Care . (Being Edited)
General FictionFollow the story of a girl named McKenzie during her high school experience, re-told years later, when she’s asked to explain her adolescence. McKenzie wasn’t such an ‘average’ teenager, even in her own generations’ eyes. She was the type of gi...
