Amanda was one of my first girlfriends, one after Bridget. At thirteen I am at the beginning of my sexual frustrations, identity crisis, etc. I have a shaved head because I believe my hair will never look good long and I wear a guido chain because my mother gave it to me, and I don't know enough to hide it in a drawer. Everyone at my urban private school wears one, anyway.
My father. The instances of conflict are at an all time high, for the moment. Despite college and cars and serious girlfriends being years away, he is still overbearing and overcautious. I'm outside doing work for him, shoveling mulch in blue gym shorts and a Kurt Cobain t-shirt.
I am a scrub.
But I want to see Amanda, I want to hang out with her. I called her about an hour before I went outside to work, and her mother is going to drop her off and come back in an hour. My father doesn't know. I am terrified of him sending her home, making a scene. Things are bad between him and I. The father I have at twenty-one is a docile and medicated man. He would understand. The father that I have at thirteen is unpredictable. Manic depressive. Borderline violent. I don't want her to know him.
I manage to take a break when she gets here. I have this memory in my head of walking to the beach with her, but I think I'm making that one up, reaching for some way to save face. Most likely did not happen.
Mostly we sit in front of my house, me waiting for my father to come out and bust me. At one point he does come outside, but only to call me in for lunch. I rush Amanda to the side of the house, out of his sight. I tell her to wait, but I don't give her a reason because I've learned I can do that with Amanda, she doesn't need one.
I go inside and I try to eat quickly, making a sandwich from what I think is bologna, but it's actually liverwurst. Mushier, smellier, gross. I don't brush my teeth when I go back out.
Contrary to the story she tells, it's not peanut butter on my breath. She's most likely right when she tells people I burped in her face. Classy, I know. I don't remember it but I don't see why she would make something like that up.
My last relationship with Bridget, and my rounds of spin the bottle on a school bus have made me think kissing is the most amazing thing in the world. Amanda and I just had our first kiss a short time ago in a movie theater, during the closing credits of Scary Movie 2. I am the worst.
I decide to be forward and just ask her if she wants to make out. She says she's never done that and I say I'll show her how. The only place clandestine enough is my dad's car, what became my old station wagon. My father can't see us from there.
I'm in the car with Amanda, my smelly breath, work clothes, teaching her how to kiss. Which is really something that happens automatically, whether you're trying to instruct someone or not. You just follow whoever seems to know more. And she kissed so well, and all I'm thinking is about my disgusting ass breath and the lady walking up behind the car with a stroller, just about to pass us.
She asks me something like how was that, I say it was great, and I tell her what the first person I kissed told me, that it's impolite to kiss someone with your eyes open. I don't even know if hers were open. We get out of the car after ten minutes.
Her mother should be here soon, I grab my shovel, just in case my father comes back outside. I talk to her a little while I shovel, and her mom eventually comes to pick her up.
That's the way I remember it, which is not too different from what she's told every one of her and my friends upon the topic of me or bad boyfriends gets brought up. I didn't know that she got home and cried. I didn't know I made her feel bad.
I guess I always hoped that Julia or someone would defend me when hearing that story. But there's really not much to defend. I handled it okay at the pool today, being ironic about it, with Ben backing me up saying that everything I did was fine. We all knew it was just a dumb way I acted when I was thirteen.
Just have to live it down, like anything else. There are worse situations to have to do that with.