Free My Favorite Mistake by Elizabeth Carlos

 
     
     
     
    My past caught up
to me on my grandma’s front porch.
    “Hey,” said Rick
Jensen, my first serious boyfriend, the one I grew to hate as much as I loved
him. We were the perfect high school couple: he was the quarterback and captain
of the football team; I was the captain of the cheerleading squad. His auburn
hair and gray eyes contrasted nicely with my blonde hair and brown eyes.
    We were both only
children. His parents (who adored me) and my grandma lived down the road from
each other. I’d lived with Grandma ever since I could remember. My parents died
in a car accident, and so Grandma raised me. It was the two of us against the
world, at least until I fell in love with Rick. Then there were three.
    Our high school
epic romance ended the summer we graduated, when Rick decided to believe his
best friend, Jeff, over me. Jeff, Douchebag #1, said that he saw me swapping
spit with a guy from a rival school. Actually, he accused me of a lot more
gymnastically, shall we say, with that guy, and a couple others, too.
Supposedly there were pictures.
    Rick, Douchebag
#2, who was always the impetuous sort, screamed at me that I’d betrayed him and
with one of our school enemies (how that could possibly make the situation any
worse, I have no idea). He yelled we were through. I yelled that he was a
jackass for believing all of Jeff’s crap. Then he showed me the pictures of me
and the others. “Not bad,” I told him, “but my boobs are a lot bigger. Come see
me when Jeff learns how to use Photoshop better.”
    Four years down
the tube because of some badly edited pictures and a jealous best friend, who
hadn’t come out of the closet yet. Oh, and a boyfriend’s complete lack of trust
in his girlfriend. That was the biggie.
    After we broke up,
I had to watch him for most of the summer go around town with all of the girls
who’d had crushes on him for years. Then, somehow, Jeff slipped up. I don’t
know what happened, but its result was that Jeff had a broken nose and Rick had
a black eye. That’s also when the phone calls, texts, and visits to my house
started.
    I ignored the
calls, deleted the unopened texts, and refused to come to the door. Rick upped
his game. There were bouquets of flowers, boxes of candy, serious jewelry, and
a marriage proposal written in the yard with rolls of toilet paper. I gave the
flowers and candy to my friends, and left the jewelry on Rick’s front porch
after I rolled his yard. Even better, Rick had to clean up the mess. Oh, and
did I mention it had rained?
    Finally the calls
and texts ceased, mainly due to my grandma telling him that if he set foot on
her property again, that she’d shoot him for disappointing her and hurting her
girl. Rick knew she’d do it, too, whether or not she liked him and his family,
so he left me alone. He went to Vanderbilt, while I went to Western Kentucky.
    It was a pretty
successful two years, and I even managed to convince myself I’d stopped loving
him. We’d seen each other sporadically over the years. It was hard to ignore a
neighbor, especially when his parents and Grandma were still friends. But we
stayed out of each other’s way. That’s why I was surprised to see him trying to
press the doorbell again when I wrenched the heavy door open to see him greet
me.
    “Hey,” I answered
back. “What’re you doing here?”
    “I was visiting
Mom and Dad and they heard you’re getting married.”
    “So, what? Come to
save me from the dreadful mistake I was about to make with my life? No need,
Prince Charming, they heard wrong. So, you can go home now.” I moved to shut
the door on him, but the stupid boy stuck his foot in the door.
    “Wait!”
    “What?”
    “I made it up! My
parents didn’t say anything about you getting married! That was the only thing
I could think of to get you to talk to me!”
    “Do you ever think
before you act, Rick?” I shook my head. Some things never changed. I just
decided to quit trying to keep him out