The Moment I Knew

chapter 1

“You were just sex. Get over it and stop acting like we were going to get married,” he yelled at her behind the bathrooms.

“Just sex? Jared, you told me you loved me! Who are you?” my best friend, Allie, argues back. Just in case you wanted to know, they’ve been dating for five months. That douche.

“Don’t act surprised. I’m the most popular guy in school, what did you expect?” I took one look at Allie’s face and my large blue raspberry slushy, and made my decision.

I appeared from behind the wall and dumped the whole thing on his face, glee club style. “Who the hell are you to act like you’re better than her? Like everybody worships you? News flash: almost the whole female population of our high school would love to harshly remove your not-so-impressive balls and chop them up into tiny pieces if you gave them a chance. Don't make me give them that chance.”

He opened his mouth to retort back, but I grabbed Allie’s arm with no plan of listening to his fuck-you’s or his rambling about crying and something about going over bridges. Who rambles about that anyways? So, as we began to walk away, Allie pulled out of my grip and turned around. At first I was confused, but then she launched her knee into his groin with record force, cutting off his words, and I have to say, I was impressed. She turned back to me, dragging me away from the scene we’re just now fleeing and ran away, giggling, until we noticed all the unfriendly attention we were getting. We stopped and just started laughing. Take that you beyotches.

“Allie you were great over there!” I congratulated her like she just won a 400 meter race.

“I know right?” she said still giggling, but halfway through her head drooped down and her shoulders started shaking. She was crying.

I pulled her in for a hug and she sank into my embrace. “He was faking it the whole time,” she sobbed and I rubbed her back trying to calm her down. “He used me.”

“Hey, look at me. You deserve someone way better than him. He’s the one at a loss because he’s going to lose a catch like you. I mean, if I was him I’d totally be all over you,” I teased, nudging her trying to lighten the mood.

She smiled and chuckled and then wiped under her eyes to prevent a mascara massacre. “Thanks Tay. But do you think you can resist? Wouldn’t want to make your future boyfriend jealous.”

“Ha-ha. I can try but there’s no promises.” I smiled looking around us, forgetting for the moment we were at the first football game of the season. And yes, I’ll admit, I may have been scanning the crowd for cute boys—or as Allie says, my future boyfriend—also. “But are you okay?”

“I will be,” she sighed, “but forget about him. We can’t let him ruin our night,” she stated shaking her body like she was simply shaking off her worries.

“You’re right. The game only just start…started the halftime show,” I corrected. “Oh my god let’s go!” I grabbed her hand and we jogged over in front of the bleachers, occasionally mumbling a ‘hey’ or a ‘screw you’ to our fellow hormonal schoolmates. We slowed to a walk and stopped a little to the side by the fence dividing the crowd and the field to watch the show. Right now the cheerleaders were putting on a dance/cheer performance, which doesn’t look as impressive as last year, but hey, you can’t ask for everything.

“Ow, owww!” cheered some girl from behind us. We both burst out laughing and turned to find the culprit: she was currently wearing a cropped lace bustier and jean booty shorts that were up her ass. Or you could just say she was currently drunk. Where she got the alcohol from is beyond me.

To be honest, one of the reasons why we come to this thing is to people watch. It gives us a good time surrounded by idiots like that old man over there sitting on the top row of the bleachers in the corner with a size small shirt and a beer-belly sized tummy hanging out. And by old man, I really mean 40-year-old virgin.