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In tenth grade, we made friends with a group of older guys who hung out on the main street of town, which ran parallel to the local university — guys who'd once gone to our same high school and had never left the social scene. I remember how quiet it was, birds soaring overhead, no other sound. I grew to dread the moments we were alone, especially when I needed a ride home at the end of the night to make my curfew.When they weren't doing BMX and skateboard tricks in front of the post office, they were spending what money they had at the nearby arcade, or spinning on stools and shooting straw wrappers in their favorite burger joint, just across the street. We had gotten in the habit of him driving me home, and my suddenly wanting to make different arrangements seemed to inconvenience everyone.Like, "This Cuban-Chinese restaurant is half-Latino, just like the late Emilio Estevez." Or, "I just put a dollar’s worth of O-Town songs in the jukebox.Who knew this bar would have a dollar’s worth of O-Town songs?It’s also important that girls advocate for what they want, whether it’s sexual or not.They might be at a disadvantage because of their status. Those two things carry different statuses (Guys age)/2 7= (Girls age) Unofficially, this formula on Urban Dictionary is used by teens to find the appropriate age cut off when it comes to dating.How wonderful it felt to have an "adult" who valued our opinion; thought we were not just cute but interesting. I was wearing a Bundeswehr tank top I'd gotten at an Army supply store and faded jeans, a thrift shop crucifix around my neck. But as we sat there together in the sunshine, the wine buzzing my head, I suddenly felt … With real life, however, and memory especially, it is harder to keep things so neat and organized. In the first, I snuck out of the house with a guy friend who lived down the street. My friend came back, we went home and I slid back into my bed. The second incident I remember happened when he was giving me a ride home. As I got older, however, the more I realized that my experience was not an uncommon one.
“But as we got to know each other more, we found we had a lot in common, such as spending hours reading a book in Barnes & Noble and bowling with friends at night. “I’m pretty sure it would’ve been a different story if my dad caught on first. “She did warn Ethan about what would happen if he broke my heart and what she would allow her husband to do to him if he did.It’s too bad O-Town was hit by a bus."He was the only "younger guy" I’d ever gone out with, by about six years, and I used to ask my friends obsessively if it was "weird." But they just thought it was strange that all of our conversations could start a potential death rumor about Ray Liotta. Ultimately, it wasn’t that this guy was young; it was that I had absolutely nothing to say to him that wasn’t "There," "Not there," "NOT there, this isn’t anybody’s birthday," or "Slow down, Usain Bolt, who incidentally is A lot of us have found ourselves attracted to somebody younger or older, and have been reluctant to act on it because of some perceived weirdness or taboo.Some of us limit our potential partners to a very specific age range because that’s what we think we’ll be attracted to.There was something especially cool about being friends with them. ""So, no normal 20 year old wants to hang out with someone who is 15. Stay away from him."This was the sort of thing that always led to my leaving the room in a teary huff, maintaining loudly that she Just Didn't Understand. One Saturday, the guys planned a picnic in a nearby forest park. Even worse, I couldn't say why I didn't want to go with him.We were still at an age where our parents insisted on treating us like children. Once again, she was treating me like a child, someone unable to make her own decisions. It didn't seem like such a big deal, as my best friend was doing nothing sneaking around to be with her boyfriend. Suddenly, I wasn't that scared, invisible girl anymore, watching from the sidelines. I remember it was a gorgeous fall day, crisp and cool, and the first time I'd had Brie cheese and red wine. All I had was my instinct and discomfort — a bad gut feeling. When I write novels, there is always a clear trajectory: the beginning, middle, climax, and end. In the initial years following, I never really talked about this with anyone other than my high school girlfriends and various therapists.