I wanted to say yes. Well, part of me wanted to say yes. But, I wasn't sure if I would. Yes means oh so many things to teenage boys. To teenage boy type A, yes meant "you got protection?" To teenage boy type B, it meant yes I'm totally ready to fall in love with you and be your one and only. My favorite is teenage boy type C. The kind where they sit at home on Saturday nights and watch Punk'd. I wasn't looking for A , B or C. But, C is always funny. Most of my laughs I've had from the word "yes." I just stood there. It felt like forever as his smile just became a forced one little girls taking toddler ballet had when they were on stage and had their first thong riding up their ass. But, all I could think about is when I brought Jake home because I finally said the wonderful word "yes." He begged and begged for me to bring him. I tried to tell him there was nothing great coming to my house. Just a mom with implants where no mom has been implanted before. He wouldn't give up. I thought to myself this could be fun. I tried to be good the person. I thought WWJD, what would Jesus do. But, then the little shoulder devil whispered, "fuck it." I remember him pulling up to my house with overdone cologne that felt like I was back in middle school bathrooms when girls didn't know how to flush. I started coughing. He had no idea I was about to be the next Ashton Kutcher. I made the excuse to walk upstairs to finish my hair. When I got back I saw my mom feeling his chest. I stood there and smirked. They were talking about his muscles. He was running-back of our school and cathcer of the baseball team. Plus all the half brained cheer whores would do anything and everything to be in my thirty four year old mom's botoxed body right now. I couldn't wait til' after the commercials. We sat down for dinner and I barely said anything. If you didn't know better you'd think I was a camera man filming a blind date. She offered him a drink with a wink added at the end of the question. Oh poor Jake, next. I went to my room while they had drinks. I felt like I was listening to a Parental Control. I could here Fountains of Wayne screaming "Juliet's mom has got it going on." It was music to my ears. The dinner with mom was fetch. Yeah, I know fetch is never going to happen. And for weeks Jake asked me about my mom and how she was doing. I almost felt pity for the kid. He probably had no idea she was on some private yacht with an older man in the Bahamas getting it on. Bordin was still staring at me. "Juliet? Hello?" "Yeah, sorry what?" He had the face of the toddler ballerina still. He was cute. He had dark curly hair. He was around six foot when he stood up really straight. His eyes were amazing. One was blue and the other a greenish blue. It was time to check yes or no.

The whole house smelled of hairspray. When I opened the door I felt like I was opening the oven and a wave of heat surrounded me. Only the heat was the near blinding lights that helped my mom slut up. My mom got more action then our whole school combined. Every night I was on my own. Every night she was in a different guys bed. I don't hate my mom. I just hate the part when she tells me "what not to be when I grow up." What I'm not sure of is the fact if she understands she explains her own life when she tells me the bad ways of doing things. My mom had me when she was very young with a guy she only met once. She was seventeen. Which is how old I am now, that is why I think she is on her "make the right decisions" rampage. "Juliet," my mom said from the other room. She was sitting on her vanity holding pearls in her right hand and a gold cross in her left. They were taking turns resting on her pale chest. "Honey, which ones do you think look best?" I tilted my head to the side. She was wearing an all black dress with a slit in the back. "The pearls." I said with a boring tone. "How was your first day doll? Was there any cute new boys? Remember Juliet, school is more then boys." She was obsessed with love words like baby, darling, doll, etc. It got kind of annoying after awhile, but I wasn't listening most of the time. "It was good. Only one new boy in our whole grade." "Well you should help him out. You know how it feels to be the new kid in town." We moved to Kiawah Island, South Carolina right before I went to highschool. Right after my parents divorced. It was hard. Leaving some of my best friends. And leaving my dad. It didn't bother me to leave him, it just bothered me to leave the secruity of having him there. "Mom, he said sup to me. Who the hell comes up to someone and says sup?" "Oh Juru, be nice!" She shouted walking out the door. I hate Juru. Hated it. I was called that by people who knew me really well. My middle name was Ruth. So everyone thought it worked well together. I walked up to my room and pushed the door open. Then, I hung my purse up on door handle. That way I never forgot it. You can find out a whole girls life by looking in their purse. I took my shirt off and grabbed my Perry's Pizza Place employee shirt off of my rotating clothing rack. I didn't need the money they gave me there you could say. I knew when I grew up I'd have my life handed to me, but it was the bullshit that made it worthwhile. Like flipping my keys to some "student-athlete" at the nearest public school so he could park my car at the country club. I'd change my station to the yodeling so when he steps into my coach embroidered seats with my sterio that he couldn't even pay for in three summers working there could here the bass of some country singer going at it.. And the bullshit is watching him change the station and driving around the parking lot a couple times with hit because his biggest transportation was his tricked out bicycle. My mom always said "thank God there is no tipping policy." Whenever I wanted any money, I just asked my mom and she'd hand me a fifty. But, there was something I hated about it. I wanted to pay my own way into my first year of college. I grabbed my keys and left. As I pulled in Mr. Perry yelled "Howdy-doodee!" What a pedophile. He was fired from freshman biology the year I was taking his class for inappropriate gestures torwards students. "Hi." I Grabbed my nametag off the counter and plugged in the hour I started working. It was an upscale pizza place. He must have bought it from someone. I didn't want to ask because going to his office for my paycheck was scary enough. He fits into my category of stoners and alcoholics by the time they're thirty group. He was always rolling blunts are drinking with some under age girl. Creepy. I was in the back rolling dough for tonights deliveries. It gets old fast. I heard the bell chime as if someone were walking in, but I thought it would just me Mr. P walking another girl to the door. All the sudden I heard him yell to go help the customer because Nancy called in sick. "Alright," I said with a loud voice. I walked up to the counter with my head down and I repeated my welcome like I always did, "Hi welcome to Pedophile's Pizza Place. Can I take your order?" A deep voice talked back. "I thought this was Perry's Pizza Place?" "It's all the same really. Are you new to this town or something?"
Then it hit me. Just my fucking luck. It was Bordin. "We've already gone over this." I was mad. "How did you find me here?" I blurted. He gave me a puzzled look.. God, this wasn't my house. This was a pizza place. He wants pizza. He spoke, finally. "Can I have the couple special or whatever it's called with the cheese pizza?" "$12.67, hot date tonight?" He smiled at me, "only if you say yes."

"Check yes Juliet, here is the countdown. 3, 2, 1..."

"Welcome back," announces our principal as she pretends she even cares we're back. We are Juniors in highschool which only excites me that we only had two years, including this year, left in this prison. I mean if you think about it. It makes sense. We are stuck in tiny rooms like cells with former jailmates or friends. It is all the same really. Both will backstab you somehow.Friends will backstab you to be popular and jailmates will backstab you anyway they can for no reason. Although, the first couple days are fun coming back and seeing who gained the most weight and who died their hair the most ridiculous color. Back from summer was Aubrey, my best friend, and me ready to take on whatever came on our way. We were not excited to start school. But, is anyone? I wasn't really interested in boys. I don't believe in love. I just do the hook ups and such. I don't waste my time devoting myself to one guy who claims he can make my life so much better, but deep down we both think it's the most ridiculous bullshit we've ever heard. Aubrey, well she was different. She was all about believing in love and finding the guy she knew she would be with for the rest of her life. Anyways, we had three of the same classes together. As we were walking to our first class, Theology, we heard teachers clapping and singing something about us being shooting stars. Honestly, I was hoping I could get to class because I was tired of hearing that crap. I mean half of us will become stoners and alcoholics by the time were 30 ending up with brutal and heart wrenching divorces. The next 25% will become stepford wives marrying guys 40 years older then us for their money. The part that absolutely no one wants to believe is the 5% that will end up broke and living on the streets because we couldn't even complete community college. And the biggest fairytale to come out of this school is the 20% that will get jobs that make us happy some of the days. Well, this is my theory and when my teachers go on about how we're America's future. I sit there and gag. I mean who tells a bunch of potheads and stuck up teenagers they are the future? Hello. They can't even manage to pass algebra 1b. This is my third year. So I understand they want me to strut around in my little white polo and my four time rolled mini-skirt who guys fantasy is to look up. Don't get me wrong. Sometimes I just love this school. Morning gossip was always fun. Hearing what teacher is driving with what student to Texas because they can't be without each other. We have had an estimated 17 teachers fired from our school because of student mishaps. I love paying thousands of dollars for teachers to flirt with me and watching girls flashing legs to get an A+ in the class. That's what my parents don't understand.. How much they are paying for nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was ten minutes into our first class and a new boy pushed the door open. "Sup? Am I late. I'm new." Well.. Yeah? We can tell your late, and we can tell your new. This school knows everyone and anyone. I could tell he thought he was a hot shot. I hate when boys just know. Even if they are. He sat in the seat right infront of me and turned around, "Sup. I'm Bordin." I replied, "You say sup to much for this school to handle. And your bored in? Well everyones bored in this class. Get used to it.." "No, my names Bordin. And I believe that I don't belong in this school. I will do my best not to fit in. So, sup? I just stared. He asked "What's your name?" I told him,"Paying attention." He would not shut up. "No what's your name." "If your Bordin, I'm paying attention." He laughed a little, "Are you trying to flirt with me?" I gave him a glare.. "My names Juliet, but stop trying to be my Romeo."