Ben With Hair and I "went out" for six months exactly. He was an excellent first boyfriend, but I broke up with him anyway. A week after my junior prom I decided it was time to move on. Ben With Hair was headed to college in the fall, and although he was great I just didn't see this being a long-term thing. Sorry, Ben With Hair. He was an excellent boyfriend to the last, both understanding of my reasons and asking me to reconsider.
I was (am) kind of a jackass, so no. I would not. What I did do was call the football player from the library. He skipped a party to see me that night. I knew he liked me - at least, that's what he kept telling me. So at the end of our sort-of date, I leaned over and kissed him. Then I ran into my house as fast as I could, and ignored him for several weeks.
Meanwhile, he and the other guy had both developed crushes on the Mormon girl, who didn't seem to know what to do. She went on dates with one, then the other. I saw the football player with her on a date once, and I was surprised at how much it bothered me. The thing is, something about him seemed right for me, but I didn't know what to do about it.
By the end of the summer that love triangle had fallen apart, and all four of us were unattached. Just in time for the three of them to head off to college while I finished high school.
They all came home for Christmas, and I spent a lot of time with DJ. Still refusing to discuss that kiss six months earlier, still not looking for a distant boyfriend, but I just loved being with him. He left again for his second semester, which would have been the end of the story except that a snowstorm swept through the state, closing highways and icing locks. He turned his car around, and later that night he kissed me.
So then I had a long-distance boyfriend. I was seventeen, and my parents had just divorced, and neither of those things were going well. But DJ seemed exactly right for me, and all you need is love - right? Right?