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Megan

Megan was the first girl I ever deep kissed. On her bed, surrounded by seventh graders, we broke the ice on a day of progressive sexuality. My tongue met her teeth clenched braces, she screamed and rolled backwards onto the floor.

An auspicious beginning to my most repressed relationship in high school. We were friends throughout, but it was a power struggle that played itself out over sex.

I had a lot of desire in those days, as teenagers are want to do. As Megan and I spent increasing amounts of time together, she became the focus of my cadjoling.

At times I was doting, she commanding, I would carry her shit around for her, sit with her smoking cigarettes.

But that really got me. I hated them things.

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