What Goes Around Comes Around
Middle school days
In August 1998 I began my freshman year at Bay High. In lieu of attending my zoned school, Mosley, I’d convinced my mom to let me spend my freshman year with Justin. Justin was a senior and his graduating class would be the last to graduate in the current millennium. Making the choice to go to school out of zone was a big deal and a few weeks into my freshman year, I started to regret my decision. Besides Justin, Brian, and Emily, I didn’t know anyone other than a few kids from elementary school.
Back in 1998 the term “bully” wasn’t a widely used term but bullies were definitely an ongoing problem in schools. Because of Justin and I’s decision to save ourselves for marriage, I was being targeted for my christian beliefs. For some strange reason, my virginity seemed to bother my peers. They called me names like “goody goody” and “prude”. There was one particular girl, I’ll call her Trish Mack, who seemed to have it out for me. Trish was the quintessential “mean girl” and she took every opportunity to poke fun at me and my celibate relationship.
“What do you mean ya’ll are waiting for marriage,” she’d say in disgust, “that’s just weird,” She even attacked me in between classes. “Look, it’s miss goody two shoes,” she’d say, “this girl can’t even get laid by her own boyfriend. How pathetic is she?”
1999 True Love Waits banquet
I felt ashamed of the very thing I was taught to be proud of: my virginity. My second semester at Bay, I was lucky enough to get into a class with Brian and Justin; TV Production. The three of us had a lot of fun together but unfortunately I ended up with a permanent seat next to none other than Trish Mack. On the days that she decided to show up for class, she wasted no time in grilling Justin and I about our intimate relationship. Justin told her to shove it, but she never backed down and seemed intent on embarrassing me at any given chance. Then one day, the heavens shone down and gave me a rare but golden opportunity. Brian Woodall likes to refer to the incident as “bloody butt chair.”
Trish is walking around our classroom one day when Justin spots something on the back of her shorts.
“What is all over Trish’s butt?” Justin asks.
I stand up to investigate.
“Oh my gosh,” I say, “she started her period.”
“WHAT?” Brian screeches, “that’s nasty.”
“Shhh y’all shut up, she’s coming back,” I whisper.
I desperately wanted payback, but I also knew that it would give her even more of a reason to hate me. When Trish returns, I begin contemplating my options.
Option A: I tell her nothing and let her go about her day. Obviously one of her friends will eventually help her out.
Option B: I can laugh and publicly humiliate her. I’m sure that is what she would do to me.
Or, option C: I can take the high road and quietly inform her of the embarrassing situation at hand.
I walk over to Trish squat down next to her, and softly tap her on the shoulder.
“What is it virgin?” Trish says in her snobby little voice.
“Ummm, hey, sorry to bother you sweetie, but I think you have an unfortunate situation going on.”
Her cheeks turn hot pink and her eyes start circling the room.
“What are you talking about?” she says back. Don’t you need to get back to your christian boyfriend.”
“I have an extra tampon if you need it,” I reply while reaching into my backpack.
Prom 1999
She quickly stands to her feet and looks at Brian and Justin; who pretend to be oblivious. She grabs her friend Susie (another snob) by the arm and demands that she hand over her sweater. The two of them scurry off to the bathroom as the three of us erupt in laughter.
“Oh NOOOOO,” Justin says, “look at her chair.”
Trish had leaked so much period blood through her shorts that it was all over her wooden chair. While Trish and Susie are in the restroom, the blood in Trish’s chair starts to dry.
“Gross who’s gonna clean that off?” Justin says in disgust.
“I don’t know but it’s not going to be me,” Brian replies.
Then suddenly, Trish returns to class with a sweater around her waist. She slowly walks over to her chair, notices the dried blood and proceeds to swap the chair out with another one from the table. The three of us are revolted.
For the rest of the semester, Brian, Justin, and I kept tabs on “bloody butt chair.” It never got cleaned and no one other than the three of us ever knew it existed. Everyday, as the chair was passed around in class, the bloody stain shrank a little in size. We cringed when a new person sat in it and we even laughed when that person was Trish. Was she unsanitary or actually that dense? Looking back, I don’t know why we didn’t just tell our teacher about it and call it a day.
Either way, I knew that my decision to be discreet had worked in my favor because Trish Mack never bothered me again!
As an 8th grader, dating a high school boy definitely came with a few perks. One of those perks was, I got to go to high school dances. That winter I was excited to attend my first; The Winter Formal. Mom took me shopping, and we found the perfect dress; a long, teal, velvety gown complete with rhinestone halter back. My stomach is in knots as I walk around the corner for my big reveal.
As photos are winding down and everyone is ready to head out for dinner I realize that I’ve forgotten to give Justin his boutonniere. “I can pin it on real quick,” I say unaware of the daunting task at hand. In less than 10 minutes, I manage to poke my finger twice, and almost stab Justin in the neck.
While swaying back and forth to one of the most cliche songs of the year Justin, Mr. rock star himself, looks at me and says: “You look fantastic in your dress and I’ve never seen your hair look better. But you could be wearing sweatpants and still be the most beautiful girl in the room.” 
