I remember it so well.  
Every detail impressed upon my memory like flowers trapped between the pages of a book. 
Preserved. 
Pickled. 

When I was in tenth grade, I was so completely in love with this guy.  I guess I should have known better even then – he was an Arab, you know. They all have this power complex.  He was really into humiliation and stuff like that.  He made me crack his toes for God’s sake.  His toes made an odd popping noise when I cracked them.  I think he just liked watching me degrade myself… 

I don’t really want to go into any more of that though.  Anyway, he was my first "true love" or whatever.  At least, that’s what I thought.  But when we came back from summer vacation, he all of a sudden decided that he didn’t want to be with me anymore and started flirting around with my best friend.  It hurt so much to see him with her.  I would have done anything to get back together with him. 

It was a weird coincidence, but about that same time, we were having a class camping trip.  I really wanted to go, not only because I’d never been camping, but because he was going to be there too.  I was hoping we’d get a chance to talk, you know? Work everything out. 

So anyway, that weekend we go on this trip.  The wheels thumped softly on the road as I watched everyone else sleeping on the bus, on our way there.  At the time, my best friend was dating his best friend, and all four of us went.  This place in the middle of nowhere, by the way.  Completely isolated.  Really roughing it.  We get there and set up our tents and just hang out for a little while.  Usual camping crap.  Volleyball, hiking, whatever. 

It’s all fine until the sun goes down.  But after nightfall, the chaperones go to their tents and leave us to ourselves.  And of course, the guys break out a case of beer – Miller Lite. 

I had never had any alcohol before.  I wasn’t really sure that I wanted to try it, but you know how it is.  So we’re hiding out on the porch of a cabin, near our tents.  I have a couple beers.  Three, maybe four. Totally wrecked. 

It was so dark outside, almost impossible to see at all.  I groped around in the dark and then I felt this arm snaking around my waist.  I knew it was him though.  So I gave him a little hug but he didn’t let go of me.  He bent down and started kissing me – his beer-laden breath was warm on my throat.  And, you know, one thing led to another.  I was so drunk anyway, I didn’t really know what was going on.  And besides I loved him so much, I just wanted to be with him. 

So we stumble back to the tents.  I remember thinking that the stars were moving by awfully fast, and that the universe was just one big cosmic pinwheel.  My friend yelled out to us as we were leaving, asking if I was okay.  I just laughed and shouted back that I was fine.  

It was cold out that night.  So cold.  When we got back to our tent, I didn’t want him to take my clothes off.  But you know how it is.  He kept his on though.  So were in there, messing around or whatever, and I’m starting to feel a little uncomfortable.