One of my blog enties… all true
The “Cherry Popper”
For reasons relating to family and thus not fun to blog about, I had to move from private Christian prep school to public school in Los Angeles. I was lost.
To make a long story short, my Chemistry teacher asked if I would like to keep stats for the boys varsity basketball team. He was also the coach and I think he felt bad seeing me sit all alone every day.
So I agreed. Fresh from the innocence and shelter of private school, thrown into the mean streets of L.A. I learned fast. I had watched lots of basketball being played, even then. I was always attracted to the athletes back then. My attraction would soon switch to artists and musicians, but I’ll tell all in time.
Anyway, on our way home from the first away game in Glendale, he, we’ll call him Roberto, guard on the team, decided to sit next to me on the bus. I didn’t know at the time, but he had already claimed me weeks prior. Beto, what everyone called him for short, was El Salvadorian, tattooed and gang affiliated. But that night on the bus he made me listen to Dilated Peoples on his walkman. He was a true bad boy. And I fell.
To illustrate an example of the type of boy this was, I will tell a brief story. One day at public school, there was a fire drill. I was looking for Beto everywhere. The entire high school was assembled on the football field. Finally, he appeared. I noticed that he was holding his side above his ribcage. I asked what was wrong and looked under his sweatshirt. He was drenched with blood. I almost fainted but managed to scream out “are you ok?”
He calmed me down and explained to me that the blood wasn’t his. Yeah. Scary. I hadn’t learned to ask questions yet.
The first time I spent with Beto, a Senior, away from school was around Christmas time of my Junior year. He invited me to a pre-season Laker game. Side note, it was versus the Celtics. They went into overtime. It was awesome.
My mom agreed to drop me off at his house after meeting his mother and ensuring that we were under adult supervision.
As soon as my mom pulled away, Beto had me in his room. He shut the door behind me, and before I could even fathom what was going on he had my pants off. He pulled his penis out and proceeded to shove it into me. I cried out and pushed him off me. I could not believe what had happened. Did that split second mean that I lost my virginity? At 16? My life was over.
Then I thought about it again. I looked over at Beto and asked “what where you trying to do?”
He said “nothing, nothing happened. It’s cool baby.”
Well, I thought, if he says nothing happened, then nothing happened. I tried to collect myself and decided to brush off the whole incident. I did it partly because I was scared, and partly because I was embarrassed. I didn’t want to spoil the game or look uncool.
Shortly after, Beto decided he wanted to make me his girlfriend. I told him that I would NOT have sex with him unless we dated for a year. I told myself that I needed to be 17 before I let it go.
In the mean time, Beto taught me many things. Specifically, he taught me about anal sex. He said that if it was in the butt, it didn’t count. Seeing as we had a year to wait, I thought it was the right thing to do… for him.
At first it hurt, then it didn’t. Then it felt ok. I mean, listen guys, I did it a lot. And it took a while to become even somewhat enjoyable. It never got me off though, so please, stop kidding yourselves ok… it doesn’t work for all girls. I know!
A year came and went. Through our many ups and downs, Beto and I were still “together.” He made me hold up my end of the bargain. I remember crying through the whole thing. I wasn’t loudly sobbing or anything; it was more like tears were running uncontrollably down my face. I knew it didn’t feel right, but I had promised.
We ended up breaking up shortly after that. I knew I had lost Beto, but what I didn’t realize was that I had lost my reputation too. I was just a cute nerdy photo geek. I didn’t know many people at my school. But when I broke up with Beto, no guy would look twice at me. It seemed that my ex was notorious for hooking up with the sluttiest of cholas and was even rumored to have gotten a girl pregnant at 15. I had just fell unknowingly into the slutty girl pool. Great.
A couple years later, Beto called me on Valentine’s Day. He said he had been feeling guilty all this time because he had lied to me. It seems that while I was saving myself for him, he was sleeping with several chicks, on a regular basis. Asshole. Thank you not for your call.