Change For Me

4. "F*ck him"

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Whenever I interact with any boy, no matter what, I turn into a puddle. I become a bunched up ball of stutters and nerves—it's embarrassing. Every single time, I act like it's my first time seeing a man. Please don't blame my natural instinct around them because, to be honest, none of them ever come to me—I rarely see them anyways—however there are exceptions.

The first time I ever fell head over heals for someone, was in first grade. It's pretty early in life to like someone at 7 years old but like all children, I was curious. I didn't know about crushes and love at the time. I just thought "he's pretty cool. I should play with him".

Unfortunately, having crushes turned into "I should invite him to my birthday", "I should be project partners with him", "I should learn how to play basketball so I could play with him". I was obsessed like any other 7 year old would be with something or someone they like—I hope I'm not the only one.

Many years later, the feelings grew stronger and I blame puberty. So I needed a distraction from my complicated love life—if you would even call it one.

It all started in the beginning of freshman year. He had similar interests as me, he was cute, and bonus points to myself for him liking me back. Such as the others, our relationship—if you consider it one—didn't last for too long. My mutual crush with Conrad Moore—the distraction and best friend—faded away slowly and surprisingly I found someone else. The same one from first grade.

Jae Foster.

My childhood crush on him has left my brain permanently, as a matter of fact, I haven't thought about my feelings for him since elementary school—I was occupied with his best friend! I've always recognized him because his presence follows me everywhere. It's hard to forget him in general considering, he's Conrad Moore's...well you know by now.

My 7 year old self was a player—I liked them both.

Although I was dedicated to Conrad for the majority of my high school days, I'm always reminded of his best friend: my childhood crush.

Nowadays, I usually don't acknowledge Jae anymore but it's quite difficult when you go to the same high school as him. For someone that's very popular, he seems quiet—no other words to describe his personality. There's a mystery to him that every girl wants to solve. This mystery is known to be sleeping around with that every girl. He's good at hiding that side of him because although everyone knows Jae from the rumors and the way he presents himself, do we actually know him?

"Oh shit," I hear Jae say to himself as our eyes meet for a second. He waves to me, something I'm not use to, and I return his greeting with an awkward smile. After he looks away, I immediately focus back on walking towards my friends.

I replay the interaction over and over in my head. He looks different, a good different. His messy yet put together fluffy, brown hair (every girl's weakness), and the obvious summer tan. He's wearing black shorts paired with a basic, gray tee, a pair of vans, and ankle high socks. How can he look good with simple pieces of clothing? Maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me? I mean, he is walking a decent distance away from me.

"Ellie!"

"Over here!" Claire shouts from within the crowds of students. By her side I notice Lisa and Sofie with the same enthusiastic smiles. I run towards my only friends, missing them too much throughout the summer. Our bodies collide as we meet in the middle, causing us to erupt into big fits of laughter. By the few glares we receive from the people around us, we take it as a sign to settle down. "How was your summer?" Claire asks.

"It was good," I say as the awkward silence follows. Although we've been best friends for awhile, it takes time for us to warm up to each other. Especially on days where we haven't seen each other for a long time. I'm also naturally awkward because these situations affect me at some points. I don't do well with conversation starters but, after a few minutes of catching up, we easily adjust. "Yeah that's it. I didn't do much," I shrug.

"You got so tanned," Lisa says, Sofie and Claire agreeing with her.

"Really?" I laugh and they all nod their heads in unison. I was swimming nonstop at my cousins house—the luxury to have a pool of your own.

"I can't relate. I'm pale throughout the whole year," Sofie sighs longingly at the thought of it until her eyes widen. I furrow my brows at her change of expression, wondering what's making her mood quickly change. I follow her gaze to someone behind me and my eyes land on Alin Grant. Oh boy.

During the summer, Claire broke up with Alin after a year into their relationship. Everyone thought they were the cutest couple including me, Sofie, and Lisa. When she told us a summary about their breakup, we were in utter shock—mostly me and Sofie. Claire definitely told Lisa all of the details.

I don't blame her. They've been best friends since they came out of the wombs. The stuff that happens behind the scenes, in Claire and Ben's relationship, makes me very uncomfortable. I care about my friends and it worries me that it's not the first time. They're constantly on and off. I stopped counting five breakups ago.

Claire is known to get any guy she desires. Who wouldn't be attracted to her?. She is every guy's dream girl with her golden, blond hair that flows effortlessly down her back, beautiful sky blue eyes no man can't resist, she was born with clear and pore-less skin, and her body is the petite type. She's unreal and fits all the standards.

She is also known to be the perfect girl. A reason to the many boys waiting in line for her. Every girl in the school wants to be her and every boy wants to be with her. We tease her about it but she always tells us "there's a downside"; they always admit to one thing if she doesn't give it to them and it hurts me to know.

"Fuck him," Lisa tries to distract Claire, basically dragging her inside to where the school finally opened the doors. Me and Sofie follow behind—like we always do—and so does the rest of the grade.

I can't believe it's the last year with everyone.

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