Despite the communication problems I had due to the years of isolation and dirt poor lifestyle in Germany, I was pretty popular after my family moved to America. By pretty popular I mean really popular. Cheerleader stuck up cunt popular. I was a cheerleader, in fact. The most drolled over one of all. You know, the girl you hate the most in the chick-flick with 20 sex scenes. That was me. I had the hottest boyfriend in school, the best grades, the cutest clothes and the overall biggest house. I pushed my boobs together and wore clothes 2 sizes smaller than my true-to-fit-size. What Chief Keef calls a "thotty". At school I always had a cherry flavored lipgloss and 30 layers of mascara on, I eventually cried at least three of those layers off behind closed doors. No I don't mean my parents. I don't mean my family. You (didn't) guess it, I meant the "hottest guy in school". Matthew. Matthew Landon. He hurt me, yelled at me, used me for sex, oh yeah and did I mention I was 15? Being a Naïve 15 year old, I thought this was how relationships were. He was my first "real" boyfriend. I was truly living Romeo and Juliet in my head. I mean, you weren't forced to suck dick and then apologize for being a "brat"? Yeah. I thought not. Growing up with my father I wasn't educated on condoms, birth control, parenting, or anything of the category. I had unprotected sex over and over, and looked over the remarks my mom made to me about being safe. "That'll never happen to me" you know, what every girl on teen mom thought before earning a networth of $990,000. I remember the night my best friend told me a skipped period meant I was pregnant, I remember the way my stomach fell through my asshole and the way my body became weak. At first it was just a thought. A thought until I woke up puking, and my xxs fur jackets wouldn't zip around my stomach. Me and my friend Bethany always went to hang out in a parking lot somewhere around town after school, one day we thought "Hehehhehe, let's try a pregnancy test" we went into a local dollar store, and looked around in the "Female Products" area until we found the pink box labeled "PREGNANCY TEST" in italics. My hands were shaky and sweaty as I grabbed the box off of the shelf. A million thoughts we're going through my head. "oh god my moms gonna kill me" all of the stuff you see in movies but with real fear. I walked to the register at the front of the dim, cold store. I placed the box on the stained conveyer belt avoiding contact with the cashier. "Beep.... that'll be $1.99 mam." I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out two 1$ bills, right when the flat-voiced cashier handed me my small bag I ran out of the store, my friend following we got back into the car. We were silent on the way. Not a rude silence, more like a "holy shit wtf" silence. We looked over at each other awkwardly about twice, and pulled into our favorite hamburger joint. I wiped the sweat off of my forehead along with a little tan foundation, and walked into the busy restaurant. My boyfriend, the football team, my other friends, everyone was there. Bethany pushed me into the bathroom, and locked the door. I took a deep breath and let out a few mumbles "I can't.... do this... I'm... scared" she re-assured me that I would be fine, and handed me the bag with the test.
