1 of 20

Write now Article Tools

Page 3 of 3

in my bra. Suddenly I had boobs. They weren't exactly Charmin boobs. School toilet paper was itchy and rough. So, I had itchy, rough boobs.but I had boobs. I looked in the mirror.

"This girl has a chest. Boston, YEAH!" I said to myself.

I walked out of the bathroom with a confidence I only had in the classroom taking a test. The bell rang. It was the end of school and I headed to the football field with my lumpy, scratchy boobs and fresh breath.

There stood George. A rock and roll vision with his thumb up. Couldn't really tell, but it could have been his middle finger. I took my glasses off to look "cooler" and I really couldn't see well.

We sat beneath the bleachers. (I kept asking if we'd get in trouble for being there) George made some small talk about some new album he bought and then sat closer to me. He leaned in to kiss me and my nose smashed into his. So far, kissing sucked.

Finally we kissed and it wasn't so bad. George smelled like peppermint gum. I'm not sure I saw stars because I was busy trying to copy what he was doing. The tongue thing was pretty confusing but I went with it.

Suddenly he looked down at my shirt. I figured he was so impressed that I was chesty.

"Why do you have toilet paper coming out of your shirt?" he asked with his squeaky voice.

If I ever wanted to be one with the pavement, it was then. My hands got sweaty, my face must have flushed to the palest white (despite all the blush I had on) and I quickly came up with a lame excuse for my stuffed shirt.

"Oh, I'm just getting over a cold, George. I ran out of tissues so I got some toilet paper from the lav. Didn't know where to put it." I wanted to run. Fast.

"Oh, cool. That's cool! Yeah." George was spectacular at conversation.

A few minutes later we got up, he gave me a hug and I walked home. On the way, I pulled out all the tissue from my bra. I didn't want anyone else to see where I stored my cold supplies.

I got a call from George over the weekend. He said we should meet at the football field again. I think George needed tissues.

Monday I got on the school bus, sort of excited that I had a semi-boyfriend. Or so I thought. Nancy got on the bus and made a beeline for me. I didn't have my leg out because she'd been so nice to me since she started dating the tall guy.

"Did you kiss my boyfriend?" she yelled.

"No. I don't even know your boyfriend." I shuddered. I tucked my leg under the seat.

"George was my boyfriend. That means NO one can kiss him. Understand?" I hated her.

"Oh." That was all I could stutter before she reached over and took my lunch. She took my lunch. That hurt more than a shin kick. Nancy was officially on my list of who I'll never like as long as I live.

That day in music class I told George I couldn't kiss him again. He was off limits.

"Wow. No Way. That's not cool at all," he said with his usually glazed look.

That was it. The big break-up. Over. Done. One make-out session and a stuffed bra. I lived to tell.

Hey, NancyI wear a really damned perky 38C bra now and I saw you on Classmates.com. Um, I'm really sorry that you aren't able to shed your massive post baby weight. It must be hard to be so gray. You had nice hair in high school. Sorry that your husband drives you nuts and you call your kids "rug rats". You sound so miserable.

Could it be payback for kicking the crap out of my shin?

Learn more about this author, Cheryl A Phillips.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.

• << previous page
• 1
• 2
• 3

Add your voice

Know something about Humor: High school?
We want to hear your view. Write now!