Mike F – 1990
All of the elementary schools in Syosset and Woodbury had finally conjoined only to form one very unattractive junior high school. This meant new girls to hate and new boys to like. I liked Mike F.
Short, obnoxious, bad grades, hyperactive, liked hockey. He was a little Italian fucker. Word got out that I liked him (which was true, even though I had never spoken to him) and so he asked me out via folded up 1000 times note on yellow loose leaf paper. I said yes.
I felt weird about it because we had never actually spoken. I even saw him in the hallway once and didn’t say hi. He saw me too. It was one of those awful moments where you both see each other, you both know, and you both ignore.
We were doomed.
I don’t remember how it ended, but it didn’t last longer than two weeks, tops. I count Mike F. as a boyfriend only because for the next three years of junior high I really didn’t get much play. Him and I ended up becoming friends because he was the class clown, and everyone wants to be friends with the class clown.
Kris – 1991 or 1992
He was THE WORST BOY IN THE ENTIRE SCHOOL DISTRICT. He was always getting kicked out of different schools. He was always given “2nd and 3rd chances.” He came from a family of boys where each one was worse than the other, and even his parents were bad too. It was like an “O’Doyle Rules!” type of family except they didn’t rule. Well, sort of, because we were scared of them. The oldest brother was the hot one, Steven. Marcie gave him a BJ and then Hali beat her up. TROUBLE.
Kris was the shorter one who was somewhat chubby. I had seen him at the Broadway mall with Toby (see part 1) and thought he was cute. Plus I was getting sick of not liking anyone. I was so bored. All of my friends were growing boobs except me. I needed something. Kris was my second French kiss. He was really cute about it. These were during the days when hanging out at the skating rink was a “thing.” We kissed at the skating rink and felt a little less shy around each other afterwards. He would call me on the phone after 10pm, which was not cool at my house. My mom would always pick up after I had answered and be like “Who’s calling so late?” and then Kris would imitate her voice and make fun of me for not hating my parents.
He told me over the phone that was I flat chested, which I knew, but come on! I dumped him. He ended up being the #1 pot dealer in all of Syosset. (If he reads this he will probably kill me).
Ben – 1994
I wasn’t attractive to boys for most of my life, so there were a lot of years when I mostly just had crushes. Crushes don’t count as boyfriends. I liked Ben and I had seen him at hardcore shows. His best friend did a zine so I jimmy rigged my way in with Ben by writing for this zine. Wouldn’t be the first time I jimmy rigged a boyfriend via writing, and it wouldn’t be the last.
Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure Ben did not consider us boyfriend-girlfriend, but we talked on the phone every night and hung out together on the weekends. He played the drums (still does) and was really into Slint and Drive Like Jehu, two indie bands that girls don’t really like. We went to see Pulp Fiction and held hands, and later that night kissed under a blanket in his brother’s room. We never officially broke up because we were never officially going out. I think I had heard a rumor that he liked another girl. I was “appalled.” I pretended to be bummed for a day or something and then I realized I hadn’t liked him all that much anyway, and went back to obsessing over someone else.
During this period of my life the only reason I had to live was the idea that I would one day have a boyfriend. It was what got me out of bed in the morning, what made me put on an outfit. I completely lived in fantasy 95% of the day. You know that thing when you have to wake up for school or work and it’s so hard to get out of bed, so you focus on that one good thing—it could be anything: a new pair of shoes or the movie version of Romeo and Juliet you’re watching in English (Leonardo DiCaprio version). For me, most of the time it was just a guy I had a crush on, and the fantasy of that guy falling in love with me. What would I wear that day to make him notice me? What route would I take to my class so I could “accidentally” bump into him? Sadly a lot of this behavior kept me away from having a boyfriend rather than just being myself and maybe having one. Or maybe not having one and being fine with that. It was around this time that I started writing a lot of poetry.