The Story of A

A will be the last easy one to write about, so I think I will start his story now. After that comes S--the stalker. That is where things get tough.

A and I first met in jr. high, around the time that I met D. Of course, I was completely hung up on D, and didn't think of A as anything more than a friend. A was one of those interesting people in high school, who was somehow friends with every single person in our grade. He was part class clown, part musical prodigy, part artist (amazing at drawing and painting), and incredibly eccentric and talkative.

When he met someone new, A would often start out by telling the story of his birth. It was such an unusual and interesting story, that it drew people in right away. And it is completely true--his (adoptive) mother showed me the newspaper articles. A had no idea who his birth parents were. He claimed that it didn't bother him, but I could always tell that it did. A's birth mother gave birth to A in the woods. Police theorized that she was a student at a local nursing school, and that she could not go home to her parents pregnant, so she kept the pregnancy a secret. They think she may have panicked when she went into labor and run into the woods near the school. After she gave birth, she left A in the woods, uncovered. He was found the next morning (something like 12 hours later) by a nurse who happened to be walking her down down a trail in the woods, with only minor scratches and bruises. He was adopted soon after, and lived with a loving and adoring adoptive mother, who actually looked quite a bit like him.

When D broke up with me in 8th grade, I heard that A had a crush on me. Eager to move on, and intrigued by A's magnetic personality, I started "going out" with him almost immediately. I think we only kissed once--at a school dance--and then I realized that my heart was not in it. I broke up with him after about a week (typical of junior high "dating"). A and I didn't talk much after that. I felt guilty about the breakup, and I think we both felt kind of awkward. We did a good job of avoiding each other until senior year.

A and D ran with the same circle of friends. I started running with that circle of people too, when things started up again with me and D. I didn't run into A that often, but once things ended with D, we started talking more. Not so much talking, as flirting. Unlike in 8th grade, this time around I actually felt some serious chemistry. I started spending more and more time with A.

One night, when my parents were out of town, A came over my house. We ended up kissing (well, more like making out), and he spent the night. It was pretty innocent. Nothing beyond kissing. When I was with A, I pretty much forgot about D. It was so nice to not be thinking about him all the time. I hadn't been looking for a relationship, but I really liked him, and pretty soon, A and I started dating.

The first time A and I had sex it was... rushed and awkward. It got better with time. I didn't find out until months later that I had been A's first. I still feel guilty about that. I wish he had told me that he was a virgin, so we could have made the first time more... something. I don't really know. I just would have liked to have known.

Anyways, A and I had a great summer together. When the time came for me to leave for college, we were both sad, but focused on making it work. Long-distance was, of course, harder than either of us could have imagined.

TO BE CONTINUED