I had just broken up with Jim; my first love, blardy blar blar. I was 16 and ridiculously devastated. We had broken up mid-week and that next weekend was Halloween, complete with a huge party filled with horny teenagers and a lot of alcohol. I somehow ended up having a “deep and meaningful” chat with one of the guys from my school (that I had zero interest in, romantically). The low-down of his sob story was that he had been with his girlfriend for almost 3 years by that point, and she wanted to wait until they graduated high school before they consummated their relationship. Needless to say, he was getting ants in his pants.
Ingredients for disaster:
1 sexually frustrated 17 year old male with a long-term girlfriend that had gone home for the night.
1 heartbroken 16 year old girl, who was so freshly off the rebound that you could taste the spiked Gatorade.
1 bottle of vodka
1 sleeping bag
So, in my very drunken lack of judgement, I suggested that I do him "a favor" and I would have sex with him, but it had to be TOP MUTHERFUCKING SECRET. I wasn’t going to be a part of any drama. It was purely a friend doing another friend, so he can get some “relief”. Ahem. I was also so upset from my break-up that I actually thought this might be good for me, seeing as then my ex-boyfriend wouldn’t be the last person I would have then been with. The logic is there, although sad and hormonally skewed. Anyway, so we had sex. It was uneventful, awkward, clumsy.... and quick. And I thought that would be it.
The next morning, I got a phone call from this guy.
He confessed to his girlfriend.
Broke up with her.
And was in love with me...
DUDE! WHAT THE FUCK?
Yuck! I was completely up shit creek now. Did I mention I was still living with Jim? Hello there, Drama! I felt so nauseous and stressed out that I spent about 2 hours kneeling over the toilet, and metaphorically watching my social life circle counter-clockwise down the toilet while I dry heaved into it.
Lucky for me, their group of friends weren’t very extensive and pretty contained. My school also turned out to be surprisingly less caught up in the gossip of other people’s misdeeds than it was at my Canadian school. Minus about 5 people that now hated me, I was OK. I survived the promiscuous shit storm and came out the other side. Life went on...
On a side note, that couple eventually got back together a year or two later, and they are married now with a couple of kids. Thank you, Facebook. So, in the span of their relationship, I am that big permanent glitch. If you read it closely, it would say something like: “That cheap skank that broke-up mommy and daddy long before you were born.” Yep, that’s me.
I wonder if he will add THAT to his Facebook timeline...