I was very unapproachable and emitted a foul hostile energy that repelled any boys with good sense in high school who may have otherwise been attracted to me. But there was one boy, S., who really liked me (my mother told me recently: ‘I could tell that boy had no self-respect for dating you‘ LOL and she’s so right).
I loathed him and found him to be so profoundly irritating and utterly lacking in refinement or taste but he tried his best to win me over by constantly assaulting me with his boisterous and animated presence. Unfortunately, I was on the court for my cousin’s quinceanera and needed a date, so I finally bit, having no other options and needing to RSVP several months in advance of the date of the event with the name of my ‘escort.’
We started dating before then because why not. My friends threw a surprise birthday party for me at my neighborhood park and after singing happy birthday to me, they all started chanting at me in unison to kiss S., so we went behind a tree for privacy and complied. All I really remember is that his mouth tasted like a burger exactly like the Wet Hot American Summer quote.
This lanky string bean of a young man legitimately only ate pizza and hamburgers and only drank Dr. Pepper (I recently heard that he had come down with gout and I can see why). He had a giant collection of dirty Converse shoes, which he kept in a pile and wore to the exclusion of all other footwear, and he called them Chucks.
He would write me love letters and I would correct the grammar and syntax in red pen and return them to him. He would talk about the children we were going to have someday and tell me that the song “Maybe I'm Amazed” by Paul McCartney made him think of me; I would tell him that I don’t think teenagers can experience real love. I convinced him to grow a beard to hide his off-putting pointy chin that made him look exactly like the tragedy and comedy masks ‘because it just looks so much better’ which he has not shaved since. 🎭
He ended up having an emotional affair with a pizza delivery girl from Oregon who was probably a catfish on the forums for the television show Psych (which he was obsessed with), which hurt my ego more than anything. After the breakup I burned all of the drawings and handmade gifts he had given me in a barbecue grill. I hope he’s found a sweet simpleton who treats him well and gives him what he needs. That’s the story of my evil past and the boy who gave me my first kiss.