The Dog Days of Summer

2

My first year of high school was definitely a lot different than my first year of middle school. Duh. 

Mainly because my mom accompanied me throughout the first day of middle school and my wardrobe consisted of cat shirts, band merch, capris, and pink vans while in high school I had no guidance. Crops tops, Fashionova jeans, and white air forces took the place of everything else.

My high school was a much bigger campus with two stories and two gyms. It had three baseball fields, offices scattered across the campus, etc., etc.  Everything was so new to me. The transition from a small, private school to a big, public school scared me. 

You go from smelling cow shit for two years and the next four years it's booty cheeks and weed. 

At the beginning of my freshman year, I ate lunch with my older sister who had then changed her lunch schedule to leave me stranded in a site full of presumed murderers. Hence, I started hanging out with some quiet kids I knew from my neighborhood. They were kind of weird, but I liked them enough to tell my secrets to. I ate lunch with them, met up with them between periods, accompanied them to the bathroom. 

They didn't judge me, mainly because they were too shy to tell me their opinion, let alone speak. They just nodded and smiled. I kind of liked it. I trusted them with everything because they didn't have any other friends to gossip to. I liked talking about myself. It probably would've bored me if they told me about their life. 

Sorry.

Anyways. Since I came from an advanced middle school, I was placed in classes with upperclassmen. I befriended a diehard christian boy who introduced me to his polar opposite friends. They liked memes just as much as I did and they listened to the old Tyler.  They were the funny potheads that everyone thought were weird, but I really liked them. Mostly because I was weird as fuck too.

They accepted me into their little group and temporarily respected me as the newly recruited girl friend. I guess everything was pretty great for a while. I wasn't as lonely. 

I remember by the end of August I developed a crush on one of my guy friends. He was a tall sophomore with shiny big black hair. My friends thought he was ugly and they would always bring up the fact that he was overweight, but I thought he was good enough.

People always settle for the bare minimum. That was my mistake. 

Here's the part where I disappoint you because there's a whole downside to this. He was essentially a bad influence. He popped pills, vaped, hotboxed the bathrooms, skipped class, did donuts in the school parking lot. The kind of shit that nobodies do.

But I didn't see him as a nobody back then. Maybe if you looked deep enough, past the puff of smoke and his oily strands of hair covering his crusty eyes, you would see a somebody. Now I see a pathetic drop-out who uses strawberry kiwi carts and offensive humor to mask his mental affliction. 

When we advanced into good friends, he had dumped his overbearing feelings on me regarding his ex-girlfriend, which I had expected coming from a guy who should have "pick me, choose me" tattooed on his big, pimply forehead. It's always the same pity sob story on "I still love her, I can't forget about her." Boys always move on physically, but never mentally. 

I didn't feel like competing, It wasn't worth my time. So I gave up. I'm just lame like that.

Don't get me wrong I like a little competition, but only when it comes to academics or athletics. I'll never  fight over a boy.

Fast forward a few weeks later, I was still friends with my crush, but I had met another boy. Call me a whore for moving on so quickly, but I see it as exploring my options.

Let me tell you this. A good portion of the freshman entering high school are on the hunt for a potential partner. That's why you need to give off a first good impression, you never know who you may attract. The first year of high school is basically the year of dating. At least in my eyes, it is. There's a consistent group searching for a piece of entertainment, a purpose to dress nicely, a reason to like school, a complimentary form of escapism. 

Others care about being valedictorian or president of a club. That's never a bad thing, bravo to them for carrying our whole generation. I praise kids who get straight A's, I offer my shoulder to you whenever mommy and daddy yell at you for getting a B. They just don't love you like I do.

Besides, everyone is inclined to have their own goals and live their high school years the way they want to. At least this is what I chose. 

Back to the male specimen. I didn't believe he was a freshman even though he did prove it to me by showing me his school I.D. It was just so hard to believe that someone so attractive didn't have a girlfriend.

Ding. Ding. Ding.  Remember the previous paragraph.

His name is now Mr.Hottie.

Over the weekend, when I was texting my former crush, he confessed to me and I confessed to him as well because I still moderately liked him. Let me tell you how it went.

Him (high as fuck): My dumbass had a big crush on you when we first met.

Me: Hey me too. I kept dropping hints.

Him: Really? Am I that oblivious? Damn. I really want to date you. You're so attractive.

Me: (laughing emoji) You don't want to date me. I don't know anything about relationships, I've never had a boyfriend. And besides, you're still in love with your ex.

Him: YES I DO WANT TO DATE YOU. AND IM GETTING OVER HER OKAY? I REALLY LIKE YOU.

Me: I do too, but I like being friends.

Him: L O V E R G I R L.

Me: ?

Him: I'm calling you that now.

Me: So then I'll call you
L O V E R B O Y?

Him: Okay. I like really like you. I LOVE YOU.

Me: LOL. I love you too. I can't wait to see you on Monday.

And so the story goes. I know, man. What the actual fuck?

I'm letting you in on some serious deets here, juicy REAL-LIFE drama from an ACTUAL teenage girl. Something you can't get from fake MTV clips or unrealistic, awkward Netflix shows.

Anyways. I really liked him and I honestly don't even know why. I question my taste in men. But maybe I can give you an explanation, the titles reads: "14-year-old Hairy Mexican Girl Accepts Whatever Attention She Can Get!"

So I friend-zoned Mr.Hottie and forced away the small crush I had on him. I made it clear to him that I liked Loverboy and I only wanted Loverboy. But I think for the remaining years of high school, deep down I had some sort of everlasting feelings for Mr.Hottie. I was never in love with him though, he was just there.

Everyone has that one friend with overbearing sexual tension regardless if one or the other is single or taken. They're plan B, the back-up partner. The sly third character waiting for your girlfriend/boyfriend to fuck up. 

Remember previous paragraph. Ding. Ding. Ding.

Later that year I started to realize why Mr.Hottie couldn't manage a serious relationship. He just went for anybody, he caught feelings so easily or at least he pretended to. Always willingly to talk to a girl regardless if she was in a relationship. Couldn't bare the thought of not  having a girlfriend. There just weren't enough women in the world to keep him satisfied. He settled with whoever was gullible enough to believe that what they had was true love. Distinguished guests, I present to you the fucking hopeless romantic who wants to be a part of every woman's story. To be her bliss or to be her misery. To be her peace or to be her war. To be her experience or to be her ignorance. 

U N R E A L.

Lesson 4: You won't marry him in 5 years, you won't.

NOTE: I WROTE THIS WHEN I WAS 14, OFC I'M NOT GONNA HAVE THE BEST NARRATION SKILLS