I broke up with Aaron on March 9th, the Monday after my infamous co-ed party, where it was decided that I would go out with Tony Hernandaz. This was my first real party. My dad was out of town and my brother and sister went to friends’ houses, so it was just my mom supervising, who, for a mom, was pretty damn cool. For the most part, she just stayed in her room. We played spin the bottle in the living room. My mom walked out once and as she walked by, seeing my best friend Ginger Ito in a battle of tonsil hockey with her boyfriend Tom, said, “just make sure you use protection.” My friends and I gasped, then giggled ourselves silly. Of course, she didn’t mean it, but as mother of four children, by the time I was around, she had figured it out and knew where to draw the line and when to give me freedom. As the youngest of four, with my oldest sister nine years older than me, I had been afforded luxuries other kids my age only dreamed of. I watched MTV and soap operas and stayed up late enough to watch “Saturday Night Live.” I have vivid memories of dancing around my room as a seven year old singing George Michael’s “I Want Your Sex.” Sex is natural, sex is fun. Sex is best when it’s one-on-one. I had no idea what he meant by most of those lyrics, but the tune was catchy, and anything that mentioned sex must be good, or it wouldn’t be so forbidden by everyone else. My older sisters relished in making me watch Pet Cemetery and laughing when I was so scared I cried. By this time, my mom had figured out that these weren’t the things that would ruin me. Plus, she knew my friends, and most of their parents, and that they were a good group of kids.
It was at this party that Sam Morales made out with Emily, despite the fact that he was, and had been since the middle of sixth grade, going out with Ashley Whitley. Everyone was talking about it, and the two of them decided it would be best to tell Ashley the truth on Monday when he broke up with her to go out with Emily. He did end up telling Ashley about it, not in order to break up with her, but rather in an attempt to beg her forgiveness. They went out for what seemed like eternity—throughout the rest of middle school and into freshmen year—but like most middle school couples, broke up for a couple days about every other month.
Another “game” we played at this party was “list the five people you like the most.” Who came up with this idea or why we all agreed that it was a good idea, I still do not know. But I played along and I listed, in no particular order: Tony Hernandaz, Kach Morales, Kory Bauer, Rob Kent, and Sean McKay. These were all people everyone knew I kind of liked. Two of them, Rob and Sean, were boys every girl had a crush on, but who were just too cool to have girlfriends. The year before, my friends had taken it upon themselves to try to find me a boyfriend, and at different times asked out both Sean and Rob on my behalf. They, however, forgot to mention this to me until after they had asked and the boys, who each said no. As I knew they would, which is why I never asked in the first place. The other three were boys who everyone knew kind of liked me. Of course, I didn’t reveal my true crush, Tom Lancaster, who happened to be my best guy friend, and who also happened to be going out with my very best friend Ginger. My friends all discussed it and decided that Tony was the best choice and that he and I should go out. So we agreed—I mean, why not? It was also decided that we should kiss, but Tony, wanting to be a gentleman (his words) wouldn’t kiss me or officially go out with me while I was still going out with Aaron. On Monday I went to school and my friends graciously told Aaron that I wanted to break up. He didn’t seem to care much. If he cared about me that much, he would have come to my party in the first place. I mean, not going to a middle school party with your boy/girlfriend is the kiss of death for your relationship. It is inevitable that s/he will make out with someone else. If you’re single, there’s no guarantee that you will get anywhere; but if you have a boy/girlfriend, you are guaranteed to get some action whether or not s/he is there. That same day, Tony was instructed to formally ask me out, and by lunch, we were an official couple. This is great, Ginger and I said. Two best friends going out with two best friends! What could be better?
Well, for starters, it could be better if I had a boyfriend who actually talked to me. In the three months that Tony and I went out, we spoke a total of ten times—which for me was a step up from the previous boys that year. Twice we kissed behind “the big green thing,” a large electrical box between two of the school’s buildings. Sometimes we’d all hang out at lunch together; after eating we’d all congregate in front of the Discovery Building, waiting for the bell to ring. Mostly Ginger and the gals and I talked while Tony and Tom and the boys talked, but at least we were in the same vicinity as each other. It wasn’t that Tony wasn’t a cool. Tony was probably the coolest boyfriend I’d had thus far, with no criminal tendencies or sexual deviances. He was cute—short, but cute—smart, considerate. He just paid me no attention—a quality which would repeat itself in numerous boyfriends to come. I waited until after school was out in June to finally call and break up with him. Looking back, I shouldn’t have bothered and just taken the hint from what he wrote in my yearbook: HI MICHELLE! do what you want over the summer see you next year.
Somehow I didn’t recognize writing in my yearbook as a valid break-up—today’s equivalent of breaking up via text message . Luckily I had Ginger to support me, writing next to his comment, “Yeah, she will! She didn’t want to do anything with you anyway!” I called him in early June to formally break up with him, and he showed the same enthusiasm as he had in my yearbook. "Okay" he said. And that was that.
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