But I felt a little smaller or childish in comparison. We did everything together, and I was sad that we now had this seemingly huge disparity between us. Of course I was a little jealous of Mary. I was certainly attracted to Malcolm, and I desperately longed for teenage love. But what I really wanted was my own boyfriend. Their relationship was pretty tumultuous - it got to the point where one week they were dating and the next week they were broken up.
Malcolm would call or text me sometimes late at night when Mary wouldn’t answer his calls. I was stuck in the middle of their drama, trying to assuage both sides. I preferred when we could all hang out happily together. I don’t remember exactly how I ended up on his mattress that night, with him offering to massage my back. Our flirtation had started casually enough and evolved into a very frustrating temptation that I started to encourage. Malcolm and Mary had recently broken up again. He had probably called me to talk about his distress, and I had probably gone to his house under the pretenses of continuing my counseling in person. I can’t plead total innocence on possible scenarios involving me hanging out with my best friend’s boyfriend alone in his room while drinking alcohol. It didn’t “just happen.” I was complicit in my deceit. I waited on the sidewalk for my Dad to come pick me up in a sort of a daze, thinking about what had just happened. I lost my virginity to my best friend’s boyfriend. They were back together a few days later. She was betrayed, and we had our own messy break-up. I was ashamed, am ashamed for how disrespectful I was to my friend, and also to myself. We eventually reconciled somewhat and became friendly with each other senior year. Reflecting back on our friendship, I have since come to understand I didn’t just want to be like Mary, I wanted to be Mary. I betrayed her friendship for something as insignificant as sex, because in a twisted way I thought it made me more like her. I don’t want to say losing my virginity wasn’t a big deal, but the sex aspect isn’t what makes me cringe. It’s the manner in which it came about, and that I should’ve known better. For the first time I actually uttered the words “I lost my virginity to my best-friend’s boyfriend.” I was incredibly relieved to finally be able to own up to my past. Astonishingly, my friend replied, “I did too.” I don’t think it makes us bad people. Adolescence is wrought with challenges and hard decisions and bad decisions, and we learn from them. In the nearly 10 years since, I have grown up a great deal and I have a lot more respect for my friends and myself. While I still can act a little reckless, I like to think I’ve learned to be much more responsible and independent.