I Blew It

 

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I didn’t enter 8th grade with a triumphant tan, but I did relish in the glorious fact that I was no longer a 7th grader. This automatically made me 100% cooler than 50% of the school.

Sandy and I also made a new friend, Jan, who introduced us to what became my new favorite band, Depeche Mode.

She also introduced us to Misty.

Misty had scabies and practiced witchcraft. She seemed to be on the fast track to demise just like me.

I smelled her coming toward our cafeteria table before I saw her. The smell of French fries never mixed well with Misty’s special blend of greasy hair and anti-itch cream.

She plopped herself down beside Sandy, Jan, Marie and me.

“I’m having a séance tonight at six.”

Since her parents got divorced, we were used to Misty acting out.

“I can’t. I have too much homework.”

“That’s too bad. Bones was hoping you’d come.”

Now she really was practicing witchcraft. Bones was the second finest skater boy out of the four most popular skater boys at Sparks Middle.

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Scooter was 8,000,0000 times hotter than these two. No offense, doods.

I had the hugest crush ever on Scooter, the finest skater boy, who was shy and looked like Nick Rhodes. His Sun-In’ed orange bangs covered the left side of his face and contrasted beautifully against the rest of his dark brown hair. When he got nervous, he would chew on his bangs – just like I did!

I was deeply in love with Scooter, so it was even more mortifying when Ty, Bones, and Chad grabbed my boobs everyday in English class and called me “egghead.”

Scooter never picked on me; he wasn’t an asshole like his three best friends.

“Homework can wait.”

I immediately devised a plan. Outside of the fluorescent lights of school, Bones would see me as the cool badass chick I really was and then he’d go back and tell his posse not to pick on me anymore because I was cool.

Then he’d invite me to skate jams and Scooter and I would finally start dating. Sandy and I would become the coolest skater chicks at school. I was willing to go to any lengths for this new life.

I got to Misty’s a little late to give the illusion of radness. Bones, Misty, and two bitches from school were sitting on the kitchen floor playing with a Ouija board. The first sign this was bullshit was that they were using a frozen bagel as a planchette.

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Acceptable planchette.

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Unacceptable planchette.

I found a place on the floor next to Bones and watched the game. By now, Misty had contacted some demon on the other side because she started rolling her eyes and talking in a lame-ass Satan voice.

Misty then flipped the board upside down and convulsed on the floor for a few minutes, rolling her eyes back in her head and speaking in both non-demon and demon voices. It seemed she was exorcising herself or something.

Then she bounced up on her feet and pretended like she had no idea what just happened. This was typical Misty – drama central. Her need for attention was a black hole that consumed everything in its path.

“Hot tub time!” she exclaimed.

We all stripped down to bras and underwear and hopped in the tub. Since I was a cool chick and no one else seemed weirded out in the slightest, I suddenly had no problem getting half naked with strangers, I told myself over and over and over.

Bones moved close to me and put his hand on my thigh under the water. While not in my initial plan, I realized that this was probably even better. Bones was the second hottest skater boy; I could settle for him instead of Scooter, sure. Sometimes it took sacrifices to be popular.

The two bitches were deep in conversation, while Bones and I secretly fondled each other, which left Misty the odd demon out. The worst thing anyone could do to Misty was ignore her, so she did what any insane itchy witch would do – she ran into the kitchen and grabbed a huge knife.

She appeared in the doorway wielding the knife and talking in fake demon talk. I’d spent a large portion of my childhood around crazy knife-wielding people, so I didn’t even budge. Bones and I continued fondling each other.

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Misty, as a child.

The two bitches screamed and ran into the house as Misty stood in the tub threatening to murder everyone because “Satan needed blood.” Misty chased the bitches into the house, knife raised high above her head.

Now Bones and I were alone. He leaned over and kissed me. We totally started making out. He grabbed my boob with one hand and rubbed my underwear with the other. I was so excited! I could totally lose my virginity to Bones Brighton tonight!

The sounds of screaming and breaking glass were the soundtrack for our love session. Bones looked deep into my eyes.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” he whispered.

We jumped out of the hot tub and ran past Misty who was now alone in the kitchen speaking in tongues. The two bitches were nowhere in sight.

Bones closed the door. It was dark. His skin smelled like hot tub water. We made out and fondled each other. Bones looked deep into my eyes again.

“Suck my dick.”

If there was ever a defining moment of the evening where all momentum and optimism was killed, this was it. I got on my knees and put his bonor in my mouth, but I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. Instead of getting harder, his penis became flaccid. I kept sucking and licking and even blowing, yes, actually blowing, on his member to no avail. Then he let out a little yelp.

“Don’t use your teeth.”

You know it’s the sign of a bad blowjob when you’re directed not to use your teeth. Perhaps I was chewing on it? I’ll never know. About 10 more excruciating minutes of sucking on his chlorine noodle went by when he finally gave up. He put his clothes back on and left without a word.

While I knew it was a disappointing attempt at oral sex, I tried to hold onto the notion that at least Bones would brag about getting head and that I’d earn the reputation of a slut. Being a slut with a popular skater boy could still earn me MAJOR cool points.

Couldn’t it?

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Tune in next week to see if Courtney became the most popular slut in school!

About courtrundell

Comic. Mom. Writer. Reno escapee. Recovering from alcoholism, drug addiction & bipolar disorder. I blame Reno.

Posted on May 25, 2016, in reno and tagged . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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