My Brief Foray With Male Attention in High School

As I have previously mentioned, I was not a boy magnet. And when I was, it was usually the guys my parents would have killed me for going out with. But for some unknown reason, I didn’t want to be the stereotypical high school girl who goes out with the bad boys.


My junior year of high school, I was the new girl. I was this enigma to the male faction, because I was from the exotic locale of San Diego, California. And for a few months, I was just this person you spoke about in class, but no one ever really spoke to me, unless we had a class together.

In October 2000, I met this guy whom I shall call Mud (it was his favorite activity) in my Childcare class. Mud took it upon himself to insult me, my home state, and all the people who hail from there. I gave it back to him tenfold, and an unusual relationship formed from this volatile first meeting. It wasn’t until Christmas when we had to play troika horses for the Russian Christmas celebration segment of class that I saw him as something other than an idiot. I didn’t have romantic feelings for him, I just decided I had judged him unfairly (which I hadn’t, but we’ll get to that later on). And when our time in Childcare ended at the end of First Semester, I was a teensy bit sad.

It wouldn’t last long, since we ended up in Pre-Algebra together (yes, I was a teenage Math idiot).

But we’ll get back to Mud in a moment.

I forgot my mortifying experience in History. One day we’re watching a video on something. The classroom is warm, so I decide to remove my ultra-warm CSULB (Cal State Long Beach) sweatshirt. Well, as these things sometimes happen, I got stuck. And I suppose that while I was trying to free myself from suffocation, my chest was in suspended animation. And this guy who sat beside me, was staring in stunned exhilaration at my chest. When I finally emerged from my bonds, this girl who sat diagonal to me was in hysterics. The whole class was laughing because she dying from laughter. I never knew what she’d been laughing about that day, until a bunch of girls I’d been in History with told me in Math class. When they told me that Katie had caught Joe (real names) staring blatantly at my chest, she just busted out laughing. I was mortified. I couldn’t look at Joe in the halls without laughing. Even after school was said and done, if I saw Joe on the street or at Walmart, I started laughing from this memory. Eventually my mortification passed, and turned into a humorous moment.

Okay, back to Math. So Mud sat directly in front of me, since there was no assigned seating (the best kind of seating). I was also surrounded by a butt-load of Senior guys. I had Black tee Chris (so called because he always wore a black shirt), Ernie-squared, Mike, and some other guy whose name I have blanked on. Of this class, only five of us were girls. I am not exaggerating. I still remember their names, and where they sat. Mud was always a source of contention, because that’s just the kind of relationship we had. One day we’d be chummy, and the next, I wanted to rip his damn head off his shoulders. Many people call this sexual tension. I don’t know how to classify it.

One February afternoon, our Math teacher decided we should take a tour of Main Street to do Math-related measurements for something. We were split into groups, and given PVC pipes for the measurements. I was walking with Nicole, and I just kept feeling this uncomfortable sensation.

“Hey Nicole, I get the distinct impression that my ass is being oogled (how I used to pronounce it) by about five guys right now. Are they staring at my ass?” Nicole confirmed it for me. Besides, they weren’t being subtle about it. Eight guys were walking behind Nicole and I, and talking rather loudly. Whether Mud was one of these guys, I don’t recall.

As we’re walking back up this hill to school, Mike decides (along with Mud and Black tee Chris) to use the PVC pipes to load snow from the sides of the road and attempt to dump them on me. Being the flirtatious girl I was, I laughed and screamed as they tried it. Little did I know, but I had fanned a flame.

From that day until before Prom, Mike spoke to me every day in class. And because Chris was his friend, they did it together. Mike would ask me about my weekend, whether I was dating someone (which I wasn’t and everyone in school could corroborate that information), and he just flirted with me incessantly. It was no secret that Mike was a fan of the mary-jane. He smelled of it, and was high fifty-percent of the time. And this is/and was a turn-off. But I liked the male attention, so I flirted back. I giggled, batted my eyelashes, and acted coy.

Actually, the coyness wasn’t an act, I am shy.

Mike ate it up, and acted as if he enjoyed my company. Around the time that Spy Kids came to the movie theaters, Mike had worked up the nerve to “ask me out.” He was a member of Habitat For Humanity, and they were having a dance for a fundraiser. He asked me if I was going. When I said I wasn’t, he said I should. That he’d be there, as would Chris. And that “it wouldn’t be any fun if I wasn’t there.”

I wasn’t born yesterday. I might have been naive when it came to boys, but I knew what he was insinuating. But, he was a stoner, and my dad would have killed me if I went out with someone like that. So I decided the night of the dance to take my youngest sisters to see Spy Kids. I almost went to the dance.

And on Monday morning, Mike asked me where I was. I didn’t lie; I told him I took my little sisters to the movies. I asked him how the dance was, but he never answered.

This is about the point where Mud and I turned into the “sexual tension” poster kids. There was that fateful day outside of the gym. I like replaying this moment over and over again.  Watching myself turn from the phone, wiping my eyes, and walking right into Mud. Him grabbing me by the shoulders, craning down to try and look into my eyes. I tell him what happened (my sister’s friend was an ass, I stood up for my sister, and my sister said I was an idiot), and he pulls me into this hug. I shove him off, tell him to leave me alone,  and walk down the hallway. I go into the bathroom, splash cold water on my face, and then realize what had just happened in the hall.

I actually smiled in the bathroom when I played back what had happened outside the gym.

Well, Mud is not one to be told to “fuck off”, and he let me know after lunch. I came into the classroom, still annoyed by my sister’s friend and sister. I was seated at my desk, when Mud came into class. Straight out of the gate, he gets up in my face and asks me what my problem is. Already having had had enough of people’s shit, I ask him where he gets the nerve to be an asshole. He sits in his seat, and turns around to yell at me some more. Mud wanted to tango with me, so I took the bait and gave it right back to him. Mike sat there, in stunned horror, as was the rest of the class. I am a quiet person in class. I only speak when spoken to. So having people see me seething with anger, cussing like a sailor, must have been quite a sight. At one point, my finger joined the battle. And we fought for about five minutes. It was one of those fights that if it were a TV show or movie, the two people fighting would just randomly start making out.

And then there’s the time we were seeing the preview for the spring musical. Mud sat in front of me, my sister and a friend sitting across from us in another row. Mud thought he’d be clever, and rock his seat backward, so it balanced on two legs and fell onto my legs. I told him he was being an immature idiot, and pushed his seat back up, laughing. My sister, who had a crush on him, was convinced I liked him.

We also were talking one day about blowjobs, and I decided to do the tongue-in-cheek with hand motion thing. I didn’t think anyone saw me, but Mud did and said it looked realistic. And then he was talking one day after class about Viagra, and I said this:

“Do you think it would work? I mean, your penis is so small that it wouldn’t do much good.”

I was shoved playfully into the wall.

When I signed his yearbook, I told him not to get some random girl pregnant in Syracuse. Don’t ask me what the hell I was thinking when I wrote that. And on his last day in school, he asked me if I could give him a hug. Because I knew I would miss his ass being in class for a week, I agreed. I got butterflies.

And when I saw him at his graduation (which I totally snuck into), we totally went back to our old tricks. Good times.

I was the source of attraction for a freshman in my Biology class the beginning of the year, but he eventually gave up after asking me every day to date.

After school, Mud and I saw each other on occasion. He came to my house twice. By then, we were both nineteen. I was watching my sisters while our parents were in Maine, and he was causing shit. While I had grown up some, he was still acting like it was Senior year. And he acted like a jackass. And I told him so. We’re both 29 now (well I will be in July), and I have no idea what he’s up to. Last I knew, he was a ski instructor at one of the resorts. I just hope he’s grown up since then.


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