My knees felt like they were going to give out. My head felt like it was about to explode. At my sides, my hands were shaking violently. I couldn’t tell if I was still breathing or had I stopped? The feeling of pure disgust ran through my body. How could this be happening to me? Everything was perfect. At least up until now. Now, I felt bile rising up in the back of my throat. This is impossible. I have to be dreaming. Or maybe it wasn’t him. . . maybe it was some other guy who looked exactly like my boyfriend. Some one could be impersonating him. Yeah, that was it. Some pathetic washout was impersonating my boyfriend. Because my boyfriend wouldn’t be kissing some other girl. My boyfriend would be faithful and tell the girl to get lost. That’s what my boyfriend would do.

It was hard to believe this white lie. Sure, I was trying to keep positive. I was also trying to determine whether admitting the truth would kill me or just send me into cardiac arrest. I wouldn’t be able to control myself if it was my boyfriend kissing that skank. I mean, Eric wasn’t that kind of guy. He’s loving and sweet and really, really truthful. He was also extremely hot. Like totally Greek-god material. Amazing hazel eyes that take your breath away every time you look at him. Beautiful, wavy brown hair that falls perfectly past his hair line. Flawlessly, pink structured lips that could easily have you melt. Bulky biceps, triceps, and any other -ceps’ you could think of. His beauty would literally blind you for the rest of your life. He’s just incredibly cute and. . . well, you get the picture.


So you see why it’s life - takingly hard to picture him kissing another girl. The boy’s perfect for crying out loud! At least, I thought he was. Once the wannabe Dolly Parton walked away from the everlasting embrace she was in, I realized it was my Eric. My Eric that was supposed to have me in that embrace and not her. My Eric that threw rocks at my window at midnight so he could take me for a midnight walk. My Eric that called me gorgeous instead of beautiful or that held my hand wherever we went as a symbol of our affection. My Eric that brought me a tub of mint chocolate-chip ice cream and the movie A Walk To Remember when I was feeling down in the dumps. My Eric who tickled me until I couldn’t breath. The Eric who wouldn’t do those things anymore. Just a boy named Eric who I once thought was my whole world.

That’s when I realized I was crying uncontrollably.


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At the moment it felt so right. One of the hottest girls at school was putting her tongue in my mouth. What more could a guy ask for? But I knew this was gonna come back at me. I mean, I did have a girlfriend and she was amazing. There was just this thing that told me to let Cynthia kiss me. It was a big rush, too. Yeah, I’ve kissed dozen girls but this one was different. This kiss showed my bad side. The bad side was always kept under radar when I was around my friends. Especially when I was with Miranda. Girls dig guys that are sensitive and compassionate. The type of guys that carry the girls’ books or notices if the girl has new earrings are the guys that get all the good, nerdy girls. That’s what Miranda was. She was a goody good nerd that studied on weekends. She was my smoking hot, goody good nerd that actually listened to me. Yet, I wanted to find out what it would be like if I made out with a girl who was just in for the physical well fare.

So when Cynthia came up to me after school and told me I was sexy, it was a chance that I would never get till eternity. I was still debating on whether to tell her to get lost and find some other loser when she wrapped her arms around my neck and started kissing my neck gently. Then, her lips made their way up to my ear and she whispered, “Tell me I you want me stop.”

I stood there speechless as she started making her way to my lips. I was stuck in the moment. She touched her lips to mine and before I knew it, I was kissing her. Of course I pictured Miranda in my arms instead of Cynthia. Not to be mean or anything, but Cynthia was sort of an easy going girl. She would date anything that made eye contact with her. She wasn’t my type. I was just in for the thrill. Man, did I get a thrill out of that ten minute long kiss. My air ways were exasperated!

When Cynthia was done telling me about how I’m such a good kisser and how her parents we’re going to Nevada so she was going to have the house to herself - she specifically explained to me she was going to be ALONE - she untwisted her arms from around my neck and left me standing there. I was kinda in shock, because the reality of all that just happened finally hit me. It wasn’t like anyone saw. But I wasn’t so sure, because from behind the lockers I swore I saw someone peeking at me.


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This was going to be incredibly hard for me to do. I never imagined breaking up with Eric. But it had to be done. He cheated on me, for God sakes! I planned on doing it over the phone after I ate dinner. When that time came, I chickened out and decided to go take a shower. After my shower, I went to go study for the big chemistry test I had. By that time, it was already 10:56pm. Darn, too late to call him. I’ll just have to do it tomorrow face to face.

When I tried to get some sleep, I ended up tossing and turning. Eric was embedded in my head. Every time I would try to close my eyes, his smiling face would pop into my head. Even with my eyes open I would see him. In my dreams, I would picture us twenty years from now with two children - preferably a boy and a girl - living in a friendly neighborhood with a dog named Rufus. My nightmares were consisted of a stomach wrenching kiss between him and Cynthia. Either way, my night was not restful. More like completely awful. The thought of tomorrow made my night worst. There are so many things that made what Eric did terrible. But, I just wanted to act like I never saw anything. I actually attempted to try and forget that kiss. Oh boy, was that easier said then done.

Morning came around and when I looked in the mirror I saw two deep purple bags underneath my eyes. I sighed and tried to put cover up. I still looked like a zombie. If things weren’t already horrendous, I spilled milk all over my pants and it looked like I wet myself. After changing into some clean new skinny jeans, I went to go catch the bus. Unfortunately, the bus had just left and I ran to try and catch up with it. I ended up walking fifteen blocks till I reached Limchester High School. Judging from the time I spent walking, I missed my first period and the bell was about to ring for second period. I walked into class and sat for the remaining seven minutes of lecturing. I missed out talking to Eric this morning. What a great way to start out my day.


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I didn’t get a chance to see Miranda this morning. The first thing I wanted to do was go up to her a kiss her as passionately as I did with Cynthia. I looked all over for her - also trying to avoid Cynthia which is a very hard thing to do - but I couldn’t find her. I finally told myself that she was probably late. But then why didn’t she call me last night like she always did? Did something happen to her? At this moment, I started panicking. I watched the clock tick by as I sat in boring World History class. I tried to think of positive things like Miranda’s smile or Miranda’s cute dimples or Miranda’s sleek body against mine. Did I mention I’m freaking out about Miranda? Where the heck is she?

At passing, I went to see if she was by the water fountain like she usually is but she wasn’t. I asked her best friend Caroline where she was, but that was no help because all she said was, “How should I know,” and went back to talking about how Tommy Graden is extremely hot. Ugh! Where is Miranda? The bell rang to let the students know class had started and I found myself walking down the hallway to my class with my head down. It just fit the moment, you know? Especially when I had to walk into Mr. Gabbler's Physics class. That class was achingly boring and it smelled strongly of tobacco and straight up B.O.

It was until class was over and I was walking to Algebra 3-4 when I spotted Miranda by my locker. My heart pounded and my head throbbed with a sensationally good pain. My hands became sweating and I regretted washing my hands with that sticky soap in the boy’s bathroom. Everyone around me zoned out and I could only see Miranda. It was that exact moment when Miranda turned around and I saw her drooping face. All those feelings I had just now dropped out of mind and panic rose in me. Why did Miranda look like she hadn’t slept last night? What was wrong with her? Were those pain felt eyes she had directed towards me? Because it sure looked like she was going to cry when she saw me.