I counted the days until I finally turned eighteen. I may have been the world’s biggest pessimist a cynic on the outside, but inside, I was still a hopeful girl. I still wanted hearts and flowers. I still wanted a Julia Roberts, Pretty Woman moment when Prince Charming came to my rescue. I craved the Dirty Dancing scene when Johnny returns for Baby. I may have said something different if asked, but I wanted it all, I wanted the fantasy. I could lie to the world but I couldn’t lie to myself.
It was my junior year of high school. I was almost a whole year older than everybody else in my grade because I started school late, thanks to being sick with the measles at six years old. I had missed a few months of school and then fell behind, so my parents decided that I would start first grade a whole year later. I was beyond happy because that meant I had my friend Emily in the same class with me.
On my eighteenth birthday, I had this romantic idea that Jeff, for whom I’d been waiting the last three years, would finally come and claim me. I had this scenario worked up where he came and swept me off my feet. I’d imagined being with him in so many ways that I actually felt that in some fucked-up way, we were a real couple. I actually thought that he belonged to me because he called me once a month to tell me that on that day he thought about me. I actually believed he’d been patiently and celibately waiting for me, thinking of me, dreaming of me. My infantile imagination was convinced that a grown, gorgeous man that had only called me a handful of times and who hasn’t seen me in two whole years somehow wanted me as much as I wanted him. My stupid self thought that a liar like me could still one day have a happy ending. I prayed that my faithful, imaginary lover would come and make all my lies true. I even promised myself never to make up another story for as long as I lived once we were together.
If I had actually spoken to my parents, they would’ve known that I needed therapy. If I had told someone what was going on, maybe they could’ve explained to me that I was inconsequential to him and we were not meant to be. That it was time to give boys who actually liked me a chance. That it was all just a childish fantasy and it was time to grow up. But I spoke to no one. I was the judge, jury, and prosecutor. I was my own worst enemy.
He didn’t come on my eighteen birthday like my head and heart let me believe that he would. He didn’t come, he didn’t call, he didn’t anything. On my birthday, I told Emily that Jeff and I were going to a hotel for the night where it would be okay to stay in bed all day and no one would find us. Well, what I really said was “All Night Long” by Lionel Richie, which meant we would be fucking all night and that was how I wanted to spend my birthday. Emily didn’t question me. Why would she? This was exactly how The Sara would spend her birthday—wrapped up with a hot guy in a hotel on the other side of town.
I recall not attending school that day, telling my mother I wasn’t well. I called my brother because it was almost six in the evening and he still hadn’t called to wish me a happy birthday. “Eddie, hi, it’s me, Sara.”
“Sara, I know it’s you. Is everything okay? You sound upset, is it Mom again?” he asked me, shedding the carefree sound in his voice.
“No, everybody is okay. I just missed you. I haven’t heard from you in a while. Wanted to know what you’re up to.” Truthfully, besides a simple “Happy birthday” from him, I’d hoped to hear something about Jeff. Anything would’ve been better than nothing.
“Sorry, sis, it’s been an insane amount of work for me lately. Between studying and writing my paper, I’ve got no time to call anybody. I haven’t even been able to see Michelle. It’s just not normal how inundated I am with work right now.” He was silent for a bit, waiting for me to say something. I slowly realized that everybody except for Emily had virtually forgotten that it was my eighteenth birthday. Eddie started talking again when I didn’t offer any conversation. “How’s school? Can you believe you have one more year of high school? Are you looking into colleges? I think Brown would be a great choice for you, too.”
“Yeah, Brown would be sweet. I can’t wait to leave this house. Well, I just wanted to let ya know I miss you much and can’t wait to see you.” I tried my best to hold back the tears that came dangerously close to falling and a sob that begged to come out. “Love you, Eddie. Good luck on your exams, and say hi to Michelle.”
“I will, sis. And I can’t wait to see how tall you’ve gotten. If law school doesn’t work out, you can start modeling at the rate you’ve been growing.” Funny, because I always thought modeling would be a perfect career choice for me, too. Then my life could really be one big lie. I’d be fake both inside and out.
I remember getting off the phone with Eddie and lying down on my bed. I was eighteen fucking years old and there I was, crying and feeling worthless and unloved. Well, in my defense, not a single member of my family wished me a happy birthday, my fictional boyfriend forgot his promise or that I existed, and I lied to my best friend about being with him, so I really was all alone. The sad part was even if I wanted to call Jeffery, I couldn’t. I had no idea what his number was. We never got that far, he was the one to always call me from my brother’s phone. I just always assumed he would seek me out and find me. Wasn’t that what chivalrous men always did in books and movies?
I was delusional in all ways possible. Thinking back now, I don’t know why I worked so hard to try and be someone else. I wasn’t so bad, was I? I didn’t mean to make up stories and hurt people in the process, but the train was already moving at full steam and there was no way for me to jump off. I would no doubt crash and anybody who got too close to me would suffer the consequences.
I fell asleep alone in my room on my eighteenth birthday that night, dreaming up all the wonderful things Jeffery would never do to me. I knew that when I woke up the next day, I needed to find Jeff and have him make good on his promise of ruining me. I had nothing to lose. I would find him and tell him he already ruined me with just a kiss and his empty promises.
The next morning, my phone rang, stirring me from a romantic dream of Jeff nuzzling my neck and repeating how he would fuck me when I was grown up.
“What?” I said irritably into my mobile.
“I’m a shitty older brother. I can’t believe I forgot it was your day yesterday. I’m so sorry, Sara, I’ve been so off and Michelle wants us to see other people, so I’ve been inside my own head chewing shit up. I’m sorry, sis. Happy birthday! If it wasn’t for Jeff asking me what you had planned for your birthday, I probably would’ve forgotten all about it.” Eddie finished his “I’m sorry” speech but all I heard was that Jeff had asked about me. He remembered it was my eighteenth birthday yesterday. My heart pumped so hard it lodged itself in my throat.
“Sara, are you there? Did you hear me?”
“Yes, you’re the shittiest brother in the world and your girlfriend wants to find herself a new man,” I said, elated with excitement at Eddie’s revelation.
“Thank you, Sara. Would you like a knife to finish me off? For fuck’s sake, do you really think Michelle wants to find another guy? I was just thinking that she’s trying to get me to commit and see her more often. Shit! What if she already found another guy?” Eddie suddenly sounded frantic. I remember thinking he must really like this Michelle. I’d never heard him panic about anything—especially not a girl.
“Eddie, relax, I was just fucking with you. I’m sure she’s just playing games to scare you into marrying her.” That seemed to calm him. My poor brother really seemed on edge. But I needed to get the scoop on Jeffery. “So, can I talk to Jeff and you know, thank him for reminding you about your little sister’s birthday?” I tried to be sneaky and yet perfectly proper in my request to talk to my brother’s roommate, AKA the love of my life.
“He’s left for the weekend after our exam yesterday. He said he had a personal matter he needed to take care of. I will thank him on your behalf and give him the message, don’t worry.”
My heart was now totally outside my body, beating out of control. Was Jeff coming to see me? No, I had to
get his number from Eddie if it was the last thing I did.
“No, Eddie, I’d really like to tell him myself. Just let me get a pen so I can write his number and I’ll call him later on.” I was so nervous Eddie would see right through me that I fell out of my bed in search of a pen. Eddie seemed too busy contemplating his relationship with Michelle to give my request a second thought. He read off Jeff’s digits and my hands shook as I copied them down. We said our goodbyes and I was left with my heart thumping, my breath accelerating, and for the first time in twenty-four hours, I felt hopeful.
After a quick shower, I ran downstairs to find a note from my dad saying he had a last minute meeting and not to wait up for him. What else was fucking new? I went in search of my mom, but she was already gone, too. She had a standing breakfast date with Emily’s mom, Adele, and every Saturday, that breakfast usually turned into lunch. The housekeeper had the weekend off, so I was home alone. I had no one to talk to, nobody to see how happy and excited I was.
I was once again reminded of how I’d painted myself into a corner and I had just myself to blame. If I’d never lied to Emily about being with Jeff last night then surely she would’ve celebrated my birthday with me yesterday. Surely we would’ve squealed and danced about the chance that he may actually be on his way to see me. But surely didn’t change the fact that I stood in an empty house with just myself to celebrate the maybes in my life.
I gathered every shred of confidence I could summon and dialed Jeffery’s number. It rang twice before he answered. As soon as I heard his voice, I lost the ability to speak. He said “Hello… Hello” a few times and hung up. Fuck! Why didn’t I say something? While staring at my phone and cursing my stupid coward of a brain, it started to ring in my hands. It was him! He was calling me back, and after four rings, I finally said, “Hello.”
“I knew it was you,” he said as chills ran down my spine. “Have you thought about me as much as I’ve been thinking about you, Sara?” Now my sex started clenching, because I’ve thought of nothing but him. “Will I get to hear more than ‘Hello’ from the girl who offered to blow me at the tender age of fifteen?” He continued making it hard for me to breathe. “Sara, did I lose you? Say something.”
“I’m sorry,” I managed to belt out before sobbing like a baby. I have no idea why I suddenly felt the need to cry. I was usually strong, or at least I pretended to be strong. Emily was the one that always cried, not Sara.
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I was just joking. You asking to give me a blowjob in your room after I kissed you was wrong on so many levels, but if I’m being honest, it kept me going for all these years. Stop crying, I’ll never mention that again.” He sounded like he had a smile on his lips. I could just imagine that face of his with a big smile crinkling the skin around his eyes. “I’m glad you called,” he said, which brought me out of my daydream about his smile and back to the fact that Jeff and I were actually speaking on the phone for the first time in months.
“Why haven’t you ever called me from your own phone?” I asked him without filtering my feelings. Without trying to sound cool or unaffected by him. “If you thought about me, shouldn’t you have called to talk to me more than once a season?” The fact that we hadn’t spoken in months started clearing up the fuzzy euphoria I let my mind sink into. I took a deep breath and continued demanding things that I felt I had the right to know. “Is this a joke to you, Jeff?” And the tears started rolling down my face once again. This was all a joke for him. He probably sat around telling his friends how this fifteen-year-old girl once offered him a blowjob. He probably told the girls he dated that he broke this silly little girl’s heart and she probably still thinks he’s coming back for her. “I just called to say thank you for reminding Eddie it was my birthday yesterday. Have a good life.”
I hung up before he had the chance to say anything to me ever again. It was time to forget about Jeffery the asshole and move on. Yes, I lied, but writing him off would be easy. I would tell Emily he had a girlfriend and that we were no longer seeing each other. No, I’d just tell her I didn’t feel like fucking him anymore; that’s exactly what The Sara would say.
I brushed off the dismal feeling that enveloped me and went back to my room to write down my feelings in my truth book. It was my diary that nobody knew about. After I told stories that didn’t exist to my best friend, I would also write down how I felt in my truth book, to stop the overwhelming feelings of guilt. I’m Jewish, so this was my form of confession. It felt good to at least be able to write the truth if I couldn’t actually say it out loud.
I spent about two hours that day putting down into words what Jeff meant to me and how he made me feel. I explained to my notebook that I loved him. That somehow, through all the lies I’d told, I actually fell in love with our bogus relationship. The things that his pretend-self made me feel were very real to me. The words I pretended he would say to me were all I had to keep me hanging on. He was perfect and he was my version of a fictional boyfriend. I guess in some fucked-up way nobody could’ve taken that away from me.
By the end of my long journal entry, I came to the conclusion that it was time to move on. That I actually needed to give some poor schmucks out there a chance and maybe I’d actually like them. They may not be a certain twenty-four-year-old gorgeous law school student, but I was done with him. I was eighteen, which meant that I could pretty much do whatever I wanted. I had no one to stop me, except myself.
It was Saturday night. I still hadn’t officially celebrated my birthday and it was time to start living out some of the lies I’d told everybody, including myself. I found a short black skirt that barely covered my ass. I wore a gold off-the-shoulder sweater and a pair of skyscraper suede heels that probably put me at six feet tall. I applied very little makeup, only lip gloss to help accentuate my lips. In my mind, I looked fuckable as I checked myself out in the mirror. I yelled to my mom that I would be over at Emily’s house watching a movie and that I’d call if I decided to sleep over. She yelled, “have fun” and that was it, I was out.
I took a cab downtown and the first lounge I saw, I walked into like a regular. I actually recognized that place because I did tell Emily that I’d gone there often, so once again, it felt as if I really was a regular. I sat at the bar and waited for the bartender to ask for my order. I’d hoped the cute bald guy with a goatee pouring the drink would make his way to me, but instead, I got the woman working the bar serving me.
“What can I get you? And I’ll need your ID, sweetheart,” she said between pouring and mixing another drink.
“I’ll have a French martini, and make it strong.” I held my tone and eye contact as I pulled out my fake student ID. I remember shaking on the inside.
“Can I see a driver’s license? We don’t accept student ID’s,” she barked back, leaning over the bar and trying to be heard over the music that grew louder by the second. I obviously didn’t have a driver’s license that said I was over twenty-one. But while I pretended to look through my wallet, some dude next to me I hadn’t noticed before ordered me the French martini and winked.
I smiled back and at that moment, I knew that this stranger was getting laid that night, and unbeknownst to him, would be taking my virginity. I gave him my version of a sexy look.
“Thank you. I must’ve left my driver’s license at home. I’m usually not such a klutz. Hi, I’m Sara.” I gave him a wave.
“I’m Phillip, nice to meet ya, Sara.” He lifted his glass with a wink.
“I’ll pay you back for the drink. Thanks for ordering it for me.”
He gave a cocky one-sided smile, and I realized that it probably wasn’t the right thing to say if I wanted someone to take me home and fuck me. “I think my bank account can handle treating a pretty girl to a drink. Are you at least eighteen? I don’t mind buying you a drink but if the cops show up and start carding people, I don’t need them shutting down my club for an under-age girl.”
I remember panickin
g and thinking great, he probably owns this club and will throw me out in two seconds flat. I didn’t want to start freaking out, but my pupils must’ve given me away.
“So you’re what, sixteen? Seventeen?” He continued fishing for more information.
“No, I’m legal, trust me,” I replied defensively with a weak smile.
He grinned back at me, getting up and moving closer as he lowered his head and whispered in my ear. “Sara, relax, you can have one drink on me and that’s it. I don’t want you hammered and getting into trouble tonight. You seem sad so I know you need a drink. Anyway, one drink won’t kill ya.”
He smiled and my stomach churned. I suddenly became very aware of how close he leaned into me. I had this really bad feeling in my gut. I had this two-second premonition that I was about to feel and look even sadder. I started getting up. I didn’t need this shit; this guy made me feel uncomfortable and I didn’t like it. He suddenly didn’t seem hot or sexy; he seemed slimy and wrong. I wanted to leave as quickly as possible. I wanted to be back home safe in my bed, alone. Telling lies was safer than trying to act them out.
“Where ya going? You didn’t even get your drink!” Phillip yelled as I started to leave.
“Thank you, but I’ll pass. I just remembered I need to be somewhere. Ciao.” I started to gather my jacket and bag when Phillip, the creepy stranger, grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him.
“Did I scare you, Sara? I was hoping to get a drink in you before I take you upstairs to my office. I don’t normally like girls as young as you, but you have my attention tonight.”
A game of tug-of-war went on in my brain. My head tried to convince me that this guy Phillip was a score. He was good looking, tall, well built, obviously older and successful. He smelled good, and his eyes begged me to go upstairs, so why shouldn’t I talk to him? Wasn’t this exactly what I wanted, to finally get laid? My brain pleaded with my heart. Wasn’t this the whole point of the night? Why was I acting like a scared prude? Well, because I was a prude, and I was scared, and I was alone. I’d never had a man besides Jeff talk to me like that. I was never even close enough to a guy to feel what Phillip had made me feel and I was scared. I should’ve lied to him and told him I had to go. But that was the one time I decided to tell the truth.
Lies In Rewind Page 18