There is a reason why “homewrecker” was my nickname in high school. This was not a favorite pastime of mine because it just happened once. Some would say I was wholly complicit in the matter. But as they say, it takes two to tango. …He just seemed to tango better with me.
I met Jeff at a leadership camp the summer before senior year. He was only memorable in that he was very flirtatious with all the other girls, myself included. Flirting is fine, but questionable if you have a girlfriend of 3 years back home. Nevertheless we kept in touch and we formed a friendship after camp ended. He broke his arm in a car accident and was unable to drive for majority of the summer. I had friends in his area so I would visit him every so often to get him out of the house. The debonair swagger I’d seen at camp was broken, much like his arm. The real Jeff was much more down to earth and relatable. And, he was gracious for my company and my concern.
My 18th birthday came around and I invited Jeff to my cotillion at the Fairmont. That night after the party ended, he and I stayed up all night talking and catching up. Finally at 7am, he left the hotel with just enough time to pick up is girlfriend at the airport. Days later, I was brazen enough to ask Jeff to be my date for Homecoming and have dinner with me Friday night. He answered yes to both.
I invited him to Gumba’s my favorite Italian restaurant and I joked that my first date dinners were always there. I was nervous because technically this wasn’t a date. This was dinner with a friend. Right?
We didn’t say much to one another because it was clear that we were both uneasy. He broke the silence first.
“Why did you invite me to dinner?”
“Why did you agree to come?” I rallied back.
“Well, why did you ask me to Homecoming?” he persisted.
“Why did you say yes?”
We smiled anxiously. It was obvious there was an attraction between us and we unconvincingly hid under the veil of “friendship.” So long as nothing happened we weren’t doing anything wrong.
Homecoming came along and Jeff was the perfect date. My friends wondered if he was my boyfriend but I was very quick to correct the assumption. Jeff however, seemed to have fun with the idea. All night he acted as if he were. He would put his arms around me and dance really close. I inhaled the scent of his cologne and kept telling myself that there was nothing wrong with this. When he got me back to my house, he had the arduous task of helping me take down the countless pins in my hair. We sat on the floor of my room, stifling our giggles in the wee hours of the morning while he plucked my hair and counted each one. When he finished, I shook my head, closed my eyes and ran my fingers slowly through my hair. I opened my eyes and he leaned forward and kissed me.
For the next two weeks I avoided him. I felt guilty for what had happened and I didn’t want to be the cause of any turmoil in his relationship. I dodged his many phone calls and refused to come to any camp social events. Finally one day, he caught me off guard and visited me at home. He said that it was over between him and Lynn and that their relationship had run its course. He wanted to be with me. I refused to be the rebound in this situation. I didn’t want to be some loose end (literally.) He laughed and held me close, “How could you be the rebound, when you’re the very reason I wanted to leave?”
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We dated blissfully. I met his family and he met mine. He met my friends and I met his. Our worlds were intertwined and I was head over heels in love. Even through the most difficult of times we were the best of friends. His father got into a fatal car accident and was paralyzed from the neck down. Thankfully, the doctors said he could live in the comfort of his own home instead of the hospital. Jeff felt a lot of responsibility as the new man in the household and bore the weight on his shoulders heavily. He would carry him on his back: to and from the bed, to and from the shower, to and from doctor’s appointments. He would take care of his father with an unforeseen tenderness. My grandmother was ill at the time of all this and I cried heavily in his arms. She was slowly fading and her impending death was causing much tension in my own house. Jeff would make me laugh and remind me that life could be difficult, but what we had together didn’t have to be.
One day, Jeff was in the middle of midterms and I wanted to surprise him with lunch. I left class early to drive u to the East Bay and I packed him a can of Sprite and made him his favorite sushi. I parked my car in the lot and waited for the noon bell. I was fixing myself in the mirror and on it I saw a car pull up behind me. I racked my brain because there was something so familiar about the girl in the car, like I’d met her before. Just as the bell rang, I gave Jeff a call and met him outside of his class. He smiled and hugged me warmly. I presented him with my offering and he was profusely grateful. Suddenly, his best friend pulled him aside and whispered something in his ear. Jeff lowered his eyes and turned ashen white. Around the corner, came Lynn, his ex-girlfriend. She wanted to pay him a visit as well.
I stood frozen, cursing myself for even coming. I was on her turf now and I feared a classic hair-pulling chick fight was in order. If that happened, I just hoped that she would leave my favorite t-shirt intact. Surprisingly, she was sickly sweet to me. Of course it was all an act and it was all I could do but try to be nice in return. “Virg, I’ve heard so much about you!” Girl, I didn’t hear enough about you. And perhaps that was the problem? I could see why he was attracted to me because she and I were both petite Filipino women. The only difference was her breasts could have given me a beatdown of their own. I felt I had overstayed my welcome and looked for the exit. Jeff begged me not to go but the situation was awkward enough. For the second time around, I avoided Jeff like the plague. For 3 months I steered clear of him and cut of all communication. What happened that day was a cosmic collision. I felt it was a very clear sign that he and I shouldn’t even be together. I had forcefully created our relationship by wrecking his. This was my punishment.
Valentines’ Day came around and I was at the height of guilt and vulnerability. I mulled it over and decided that it wasn’t his fault that Lynn even showed up. As a freakish and cruel coincidence, she just happened to be there at the same exact moment as me. What Jeff and I had was special and I didn’t want to throw it away after one unpleasant encounter. I had to know if he still felt the same and if we could try again. After class I got a Valentine’s day card and fought traffic to get to his house. I was so fired up that I didn’t stop to think that maybe his feelings had faded in that bout of silence. I stood outside his front door and knew there was no turning back now. With my heart in my throat, I clutched the card in my hands like a silent prayer and rang the doorbell.
The door swung open and Lynn stood before me. She smirked and crossed her arms. I was without words and searched for Jeff. He emerged from the kitchen with two candlesticks and stopped dead in his tracks. This was my well-deserved retribution, my karmic slap to the face.
“Hey Virg, can I help you?” she asked.
“I… had a question to ask,” I said, keeping Jeff’s gaze. “But I guess I already know the answer.”
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I think back on it now and I don’t regret anything I’d done. Everything happened as it should have. But I chuckle and wonder if the t-shirt I had on when I first met Lynn had anything to do with her unrelenting hatred of me and their consequent make-up. My favorite bright red, tight-fitting t-shirt read,
Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful, hate me because your boyfriend thinks I am.
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