Matt

Boy number 12: Matt. He was your typical high school jock. Every girl had a crush on him. Literally every single girl. He was so handsome. He holds the record at Mountain View High School for most girls kissed in a week. (36) He was a pig, but a handsome pig.

We had English together in 8^th grade. I was the obnoxious girl that asked a lot of questions and yelled out what I thought were funny comments. I was sassy and, at times, a bit belligerent. I don’t remember much about him being in that class with me. I think that’s mostly because he was so far out of my league that I knew better than to try.

The next semester, however, I was walking down the hall way when he came up behind me. “Chelsy!” He said, “I miss you in English.” Completely surprised that he was talking to me, I stammered, “ See? I told you that you would.” And then I thought about it… no I hadn’t.. “Well I didn’t tell you but you do and I knew you would…”  I mumbled and rambled on unintelligently. “Yeah… well see you later.” He called as he jogged on to his next class. I blushed bright red. Matt had just talked to me! Me!

Christmas time came. Since my family was still suffering the loss of my mother a year previously, people were trying their hardest to “make our spirits light.” A couple days before Christmas I heard a knock at my door. I had just gotten out of the shower and was towel drying my hair when my brother knocked on my door. H e reported that there was someone there to see me. I freaked out a little bit. I wasn’t dressed, my hair was a wet mess, and someone was at the door for me. I grabbed the closest clothes I could find. A striped green and purple shirt and some Tinkerbell pajama pants. I looked in the mirror. I looked like a hobo, but I didn’t really care. I figured it was just one of my girl friends or something. I ran down stairs and opened the door. What was waiting for me was a huge group of carolers. They jumped right into a chorus of “We wish you a merry Christmas” followed by “Silent Night.” I was trying to hide myself behind the door, but then they wanted me to step out and talk to them. Then, horror of horrors, I saw Matt’s dad whisper in his ear. Matt made a face, but then his dad pushed him forward. He walked up to me awkwardly, side hugged me and said, “Hi, Chelsy.” And he did not look happy to do it. I was mortified. Not only did I look terrible, but his dad was making him talk to me and he obviously didn’t want to.

I figured there was no point to being embarrassed. Things like this would always happen to me and I needed to learn to accept it. Plus it wasn’t like Matt and I talked very much any way. I would get over it.

And then he was in my Biology class the next year. And not only that, I was paired up with him at my table. Awesome. I don’t know why but for some reason, Matt decided he wanted to make my life hell.

One day while doing our work, Matt said, “You’re never going to get married.” I argued that I would get married and why was that any of his business anyway? He looked at me for a long minute, laughed then turned to his friend and said, “Dude… she’s a butterface.” They laughed to themselves and I decided to ignore them. Then a girl at the table asked what a butterface was. Matt replied, “You know… everything’s hot but her face?” They laughed some more and the rest of the table joined in. “Do you want me to bring in a paper bag for you to wear over your face? You might be able to get married if you wear one of those. Although your husband might want to trade it in for a plastic one once you start talking.”

I took the abuse. I even laughed a long for a little bit. But rest assured, when I got home, I bawled my eyes out.

After seeing the way Matt and the rest of the table treated me, my Biology teacher decided it would be a good idea to move me. New seats were assigned the following week. That didn’t stop Matt, however. I was a sensitive soul and it upset me when small animals died. And those were my biology teacher’s favorite movies- the ones that showed small animals dying horrific deaths from the sharp teeth of one predator or another. I tried not to make a big deal about it, but when a lion sunk it’s huge talons into the tender flesh of a baby caribou, sometimes a small sob would escape my lips.

Of course Matt noticed. He would yell up to me from the back of the class, “Hey Chelsy, you know that 90% of penguins die from killer wale attacks every year.” And once when there was a particularly touching reunion between a baby cheetah and his mom: “Oh I’ve already seen this one. The mom dies in like two minutes and then the baby starves to death.” Just mean.

I laugh now. And part of me wonders if he picked on me so much because he had a slight crush on me. Not that either of us would have EVER done anything about it. He never would have admitted it. And even if he didn’t, it makes me feel better to think that he might have.