I was crazy about him: like staring dreamily at his face in the yearbook crazy. From eighth grade until my sophomore year of high school, I was crazy about him. He was a new kid in middle school, and that was always intriguing to me. He was in the band and he was smart and when he got flustered or irritated his face would turn red. Who knew that sophomore year I'd be the person making his face turn red...and not in a good way?
We had never really talked, but that had never stopped me from crushing on a guy before. But I was head over heels, I really thought he was something else. Until the one day I opened my mouth and began to speak...and it turns out he didn't like me at all.
We were in the same speech class and were presenting debates. Of course the topic suggestions were the usual: animal cruelty, marijuana legalization and...abortion. When I had to speak about abortion I went up and gave my very opinionated speech about being pro-choice. Even when I was sixteen I had deep, rooted opinions and no one could stop me.
The guy I liked for a couple of years (obsessively) was sitting in the front row and I beamed at him, hoping he would think I was super intelligent and witty. Maybe this was exactly what I needed to impress him. As a agnostic I quoted the bible, as a female I spoke about women's issues, and as a young student I spoke hoping I could get the grade. But more than anything, I wanted to impress that boy with the dark hair and dark eyes. The boy who turned out to be super religious and actually hated me because I wasn't.
He stood up when my speech was over and started firing questions and insults before the teacher had even opened it up for discussion. He said that my speech was very "satanic" and stupid. Thinking back on it, I think I handled the situation fairly well, but his response was alarming. How were the two of us going to live happily ever after someday when we couldn't agree on something like this?
When class was over and I started to walk out with a friend I could feel his eyes burning a hole into the back of my head as we headed toward our next class...the same class. I could hear him mutter things like "going to hell" and "bitch" but I kept my head up and kept walking. I was fine until I heard "I wanted to punch her in the face."
As we neared our Spanish class's door, I spun around in a fury. That's when I would utter my first (and last) words to him. "Shut the hell up!" His face was alarmed, and he had nothing to say in return. I felt like I had control of the situation, and it put an end to his put-downs.
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