Vamps n' Tramps

I had just broken up with my first love; the first guy I had sex with. I was 16 and completely 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 over 2 years by this 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 Gatorade.
1 bottle of vodka
1 sleeping bag

So, in my drunken lack of judgement, I suggested that I do him a favour and I would have sex with him, but it had to be TOP SECRET. I wasn’t going to be a part of any drama. It was purely a friend doing another friend a big favour so he can get some “relief”. 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 had been with. The logic is there, although sad and morally 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, telling me that he confessed to his girlfriend, broke up with her and that he was in love with me. ARE YOU FRIGGIN’ KIDDING ME? Yuck! I was completely up shit creek now. It would be all over school and within less than 4 months of starting there, I would be labelled “The Slut Outcast”. Fantastic! That had to be some kind of record! I felt so nauseous and stressed out that I spent about 2 hours kneeling in front of the toilet, and metaphorically watching my social life circle the toilet bowl and down the drain.

Lucky for me, that group of friends weren’t very extensive and pretty contained. This school also turned out to be way less caught up in the gossip of other people’s misdeeds than it was at my old school. Minus about 5 people that hated me, I was OK. I survived the promiscuous 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. So, in their relationship timeline, I will permanently be that big glitch. If you read it closely, it would say something like: “That Total Slut that broke-up Mommy and Daddy long before you were born.” Yep, that’s me.