Chatper 1: Junior Year

Isaiah was an annoyance to me. For some reason he'd been in my English class Sophomore year and now, my Junior year, I imagined him stalking me. He was not only in my English class, but he sat behind me. Great. For some reason, I felt Isaiah was always looking at me, even when he wasn't. But when I did feel he was examining me sometimes, I caught him. I couldn't exactly catch him in class because he was behind me, but outside of class I did. I'm nearly positive he was always looking at me, but sometimes I doubt if I just was mistaken. Isaiah, I swear, for all of junior high and high school had been trying to talk to me or be around me.

I wouldn't exactly describe myself as a beauty or a beast, I'm just me. I believe beauty is what you want it to be. My hair is naturally jet black and I'm a mixed race. The darkness that is my hair is relaxed, somewhat tight, curls that reach past my shoulders. I have dark eyes and lengthy eyelashes. Thanks to my mom I was bestowed with shortness, five two and a half to be exact. I haven't deciphered if it's a curse or a blessing yet. Also, I'm not sure who to thank, but I'm cursed with a full bust. I've rated having a full bust and unnecessary attention as a kinky curse. I'm average for my size and I know how to dress. I'd always been a fashion savvy person, matching accessories and colors ceaselessly. My friends, associates and anyone who'd seen or known me, knew that I was "outfit aware."

I had a crush on Isaiah's friend, Martin. Martin and I had a more or less romantic history. Sophomore year, I allowed myself to stray from the good Christian girl I was and met Martin. He was a typical good-looking guy that masses of girls longed for, and because of that fact, I was drawn away too. At first, we had just started talking innocently and would hang out at lunch in the gym. He was so fascinating to me and I was lost in a fantasy of how dreamy I thought he was. Over the course of only a week, we had already kissed. The kiss, was not what I envisioned it to be. I guess that ruined it and I just lost the lust I had for him. It was just lust. In English that year, I was discussing with my friend Velvet about Martin and how I'd lost interest, "How should I break up with him?" I looked to Velvet for the answers, "You guys aren't even going out," a voice impeded the conversation. I pivoted and found the origin of the response, Isaiah. "So, that's not what I mean," I declared embarrassed. Then, Velvet and I continued our conversation more secretively.

After that class, I remember how much I dreaded having to see Martin. My palms were moistened and my heart beat was elevated for the bulk of the school day. I couldn't eliminated the expanding anxiety and I couldn't focus on any of my school work. How would Martin, who I believed to be "too good" for me, react?

While on my passing to fifth period, I received a vibration of dismay. At random, it was Martin that texted me. "So whats up," it read. I at once, panicked. I could discern that Martin knew what I was going to say. My stomach felt knotted as I struggled to find the proper words, I felt the moment was premature. I proceeded to inform him as amiable as possible, carefully wording my waning feelings. "I know, Isaiah told me," he presumed.

At that juncture, I was poisoned with aggravation towards Isaiah. He ruined my somewhat insignificant relationship with Martin. I still desired more time to review the circumstances before facing Martin, in case I changed my mind. But now, due to Isaiah, it was ruined. Out of my own courtesy, I hoped to tell him in person. I wanted to perhaps stay friends, but in behalf of Isaiah, I couldn't. From then on, I had stopped associating with Martin basically and I accumulated a constant agitation for Isaiah and his presence.

The next day in English class, I was beat. It seemed so surreal that I didn't crave Martin anymore, but I accepted it. However, I did not accept Isaiah. Just listening to him interact with the other students in the class was en-angering me. When he came into a conversation I was included in, I was peaked with disgust. I justified with my mind that avenging myself was the appropriate thing to do. "Ms. Bont!" I hollered through the restlessness of the class. I caught the teacher's attention, "can you please move Isaiah? He's bothering me." I must have sounded sincere because Ms. Bont believed me. Isaiah was relocated to the opposite side of the room. I could tell he knew it was absurd that I did that, but I was safe from him. I felt amused and catty, but satisfied.

Well, one year later, I recovered from my spite with Isaiah. Now, he only irritates me about fifty percent of the time, but I matured out of getting him in trouble. Nonetheless, he was always fidgeting with my waist belts and touching my back in class. For the most part, I tried to ignore him. But sometimes, in weird, uncommon ways, he was cute. He was also always flirting with me, I acknowledged. On those sometimes days, I was folding papers with my scribblings to him inside and passing them to Isaiah, we passed notes on occasion. We'd talk sometimes, but not too often. That year, Junior year, he had a girlfriend. He liked little girls, I'd say. She was a fourteen year-old freshman, cheerleader. They often enjoyed the flavor of each other's mouths for the entire period of break. Gross.

I was never permitted to associate with guys outside of school. The only guys I was authorized to talk to were from church, and even then I only had one close guy friend. I remember the transformation from God-fearing innocence to a crude teenager. For most of my high school career so far, I abstained from guys completely. Well, once I came to the realization that the a percentage of the male species found me attractive, I broke. I'd never kissed a guy besides Martin, I'd never had a boyfriend and I'd never done more than kiss. With the standards of my school, I was behind, I should have at least been in a couple of relationships. However, I never felt inexperienced or like I was missing out. When I would be asked out, I would kindly decline and use my religion as an explination. It saved me sometimes, but sometimes I did so begrudgingly. Even so, I was always firm with my religious beliefs and never found the dating rules burdensome. The rules were, "you can't date until you're ready to be married." It sounds harsh, but I was used to the decorum.

Through elementary and junior high, I was never the pretty girl or the first kid picked during nationball. I was an adventurous partial tomboy. When I reached high school though, I evolved into a girl and "developed." I experimented with accesories and explored outfits. Due to this revelation, it generated a response from the guys around me. I was not accustomed to the attention, but I learned to use it to my advantage.