March 24, 1998
Steph dumped Zach yesterday. It doesn’t really affect me much. Well, okay, yes it does. But Steph hates me still, and Jenna is a poser to be like Steph.
I told everyone that I am going out with a boy named Mike from a different town, to prove that I am over Zach. Zach was making fun of “Mike” in Library Skills class today. This is how it happened:
I was sitting across the room from Zach. Michelle and Maggie were sitting near Zach, and they wanted to sit near me so they came over. I said to Maggie, “Let’s all go back to your table.” She said, “Why?” I said, “Because… then we will be far away from Ms. Albertson and we can goof off.” Of course, it was really so I could be near Zach, but nobody needed to know that. [Nice cover! Thinking on my feet, as usual.]
We were going to make the boys who were already sitting at Zach’s table leave. I said, “Up, up! Go sit over there.”
Zach thought I was talking to him and he said, “No! No! We were here first! I don’t need to take that crap!” [I have to side with Zach on this one. Where did I get off being so bossy?]
Finally, he said, “Well. You can sit here, but we’re not moving.” I said, “Fine.” And we sat there.
Zach leaned over and said in a low, sarcastic voice, “Mike.” I looked up. “What’s wrong with Mike?” [Other than that, you know, he doesn’t exist?]
Zach said, “He’s a fat shit.” “No, he’s not. Besides, I’m not even going out with him.” [And also he doesn’t exist.]
I sighed. Then I made a puzzled face and stared at him: “Why do you even care?”
He made a mean face. “Why would I care?” I shrugged and played innocent. “I don’t know. Why do you?” He looked at me in this way that I hate. He looked really angry and pissed off. But I like it more when he is mean to me than when he just ignores me, or when he snaps, “Shut up, Emily! I wasn’t talking to you.”
And I hate it when I open my mouth to say something to him and he moves away purposefully. It is much better when he’s like, “Your dad is gay!” Because, I mean, at least I’m getting some attention. At least he took the time to notice me and say something to me. [For the record, my dad is not gay. We just thought “gay” was about the worst insult you could call someone.]
YOU ARE READING
The UnSlut Project
Non-FictionI was the 6th-grade "slut." And I kept a diary. So I decided to create The UnSlut Project in the hopes that my own diary entries could provide some perspective to girls who currently feel trapped and ashamed. I am publishing these entries one at a...
