Mom the wingman

My first boyfriends name was Johnny. His family had moved into a rental house down the block from me. My father and I had been walking to the store, and he was playing in his yard with his little brother. He said hi. I said hi back. Relationships were so easy back then.

We were inseparable. Picking blackberries in his backyard. Playing doctor in his garage. Walking down the street together while his mini-boom box played When doves cry. We even started our own business together.

All the kids in the neighborhood knew that Johnny and I were a couple. It was just a fact. It was my first taste of love, pure and innocent. I would sleep over at his house, and we would camp out on his floor, watching Rocky and Bullwinkle. We swung in unison on my swing set. Everything was perfect.

Until Amelia moved in a few houses away.

She was a year older and had boobs. She was very friendly and soon she was hanging around with our little group. She befriended me quickly for some reason, and since I had always had a difficult time making female friends, I was ecstatic.

One day, she asked me if I wanted to come over to her house for dinner. Maybe I could bring Johnny along. Something didn’t feel quite right, but I was only 7 or 8 at the time. I had no idea what the little bitch had in mind, so I said sure.

I can remember walking to her house that day, Johnny at my side. We got to her door and knocked. Amelia’s mother answered, and as soon as she saw Johnny, she smiled brightly. She started fawning over him. Oh, wasn’t he a handsome boy! Did he like pizza with extra cheese? Come in, they had air conditioning!

I saw Amelia smirking behind her mother.

They ignored me completely. All attention was on Johnny. Did he want more pop? What the hell was going on? I was so hurt and upset that I excused myself from the dinner table, and slipped out the back door. I went home crying to my mother. Oh, my little broken heart.

Now they walked down the street together, listening to various 80′s songs, drinking fucking lemonade.

Eventually Johnny moved away. Amelia’s family ended up buying the house, so we were enemies for years. My only consolation was that as she got older, her face started to resemble a slice of pizza, and her boobs never got any bigger than they were when she was 9.

If your reading this, Johnny, my phone number is….