Saturday Stories: First Boyfriend

I was surprised when he came along. I was 16 and a half and he was in my junior year English class. He had just moved back to the States from England. Maybe that's why I was so intrigued by him. 
And he flirted with me constantly. 

I always took the same seat and he always found a way to sit behind me. 

Pull my hair from the clip and flip it around. 

Try and jump into my conversation.

I was won over quite easily. 

Probably because until that point I was only the girl that talked to the football players about the game or the girl that all of the guys called "fat". I mean I realize I'm still curvy and larger than average, and back then I also wore baggy clothes and shorts, and didn't know how to do hair or make-up. I would sit at home on Friday night and wonder why I couldn't go out on dates (believe me, I'm well past wondering now. I got smarter as I got older). So it makes sense that this boy would win me over by simply treating me like I was a girl. 

So we went on a date. Of course I was nervous. I was well aware of his experience with girls. And therefore well aware of my inexperience. 

On that first date, he gave me my first kiss. That story can only be told in person, I fear. 

Sadly, after two weeks, two dates, and one minimal break up, I finally ended whatever "it" was.

I can even pinpoint the moment when I knew I wasn't into him. 

We were walking to my chemistry class holding hands and I saw some guys I had known for two years walking toward us, and I dropped his hand. I was embarrassed and self-conscious. And I realized that I would rather be holding hands with one of those guys (who although kind to me never really went out of their way to talk to me). 

Maybe I was scared of letting someone like me. Probably. Or I just really wanted a boyfriend. 

But I am grateful that to have at least one story.