My Teenage Dream Ended (19 page)

It was awkward for my friend, too. He kept probing me about who the dad was. All I wanted to do was go out and forget that my teenage life was about to end, so I ignored all of his serious talk and avoided his questions. We took pictures and hung out with some people—his group of friends. Since we went to different schools, I didn’t know anyone at the dance, which was a nice change. I was tired of being in the middle of all the drama at my school. I tried to have a fun night, but in the end I realized I was just over the whole high school dance scene.

After homecoming, we didn’t stay friends long because he still worked at the restaurant with Derek and that became an issue. I was sorry to lose him as a friend because he was one of the few guy friends I had left at that point.

I had quit working at the resataurant after I found out I was pregnant. I missed working there, but I didn’t miss all the drama that came along with working with Derek. One night after I had gone out to to dinner with my friend, we stopped by the restaurant so that he could check his schedule for work. I decided to go in with him to say “hi” to the girls that I used to host with.

At first it was fun and exciting to be in there again, but that changed superquick when I saw my old manager. I had missed her, so I went up to her and said, “Hi, how are you?”

I was expecting a warm welcome, but instead she snapped, “You need to get out of here now! Leave!”

I was taken aback and shocked. “Why? What did I do?”

She gave me a look. “You know what you’re doing. Leave!”

So I didn’t say goodbye to anyone, I just walked out. My friend was still in the restaurant checking his schedule and he had driven, so I started walking to his car. I couldn’t understand my old boss’s reaction. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but I felt like I wasn’t welcome there anymore.

When I was halfway back to the car, I heard two guys yelling.

It sounded like they were starting to fight. I looked back and saw Derek following my friend out from the restaurant. My friend walked up to me and said, “Keep walking,” and we made a beeline for his car. Derek kept following behind us, yelling at my friend. He didn’t even acknowledge that I was there, which pissed me off. He wouldn’t acknowledge my presence, yet he wanted to fight my friend.

As we stopped to cross the street, Derek shouted, “Ah man, I just want to beat your ass.”

I was so mad that Derek wasn’t giving me any attention that I wanted to say something, anything, to piss him off. I started yelling, “Why don’t you just do it then, Derek? But you’re not going to do anything, are you? So shut up.”

My friend shushed me, “Farrah, shhh! Just quit talking. I’m not going to fight.”

As soon as we were able, we ran across the street, while Derek stood on the opposite sidewalk, still shouting threats.

When we got in the car, I asked what happened.

“Derek told the manager that we came in there on purpose to fight. He’s mad because he thinks we’re dating.”

“Well, he could’ve asked me, instead of trying to fight you and getting me kicked out.” I knew after this, my friend wouldn’t want to hang out with me anymore. I thought about how stupidly Derek had acted. I just wished he had talked to me, instead of starting a fight. I wanted to explain everything to him, but I knew it would be a mistake to call him.

FROM BAD TO WORSE

By October, the film crew had gone. They were waiting to get the green light on the show and were hoping to come back and film again when I was more visibly pregnant. At that point, I was almost five months along and, even though I didn’t show enough for the cameras to pick up, my body was definitely changing. My belly was starting to poke out and I couldn’t fit into my cute jeans anymore, so I had started wearing sweats and t-shirts every day. I hated dressing down and feeling like I was losing my cute little teenage body.

By now I was hating school, too. I was sick of being the center of gossip and just wanted to be done. I had no friends and I was short with people who tried to talk to me because I felt so disconnected from other kids my age. I didn’t do anything like a regular teenager anymore. I went to school for half a day, went to work, took college classes at night and on weekends, and went to bed early most nights.

Now that my life had changed so much, I realized it was time to quit the cheer team. It all seemed so fake and hypocritical to me now. Our cheer coaches would preach leadership and doing the right thing, but it seemed to me now that the culture of cheerleading (which involves a lot of gossip and competing for popularity) was the opposite of that.
It seemed to me to be a culture dominated by bitchy immature girls, obsessing over boys, causing fights, and acting cool. I felt mature enough to be a leader and take on real responsibility. So it was time to let all of that go.

Making that decision felt even more right after I got the news that the film crew had received the go-ahead to come back to finish filming for the show. One afternoon while I was at practice, my phone rang. I answered and it was one of the assistants from the production company calling with the good news. I was happy to have the opportunity to change my life, happy to be occupied with something constructive and positive, and happy to have something to take my mind off of Derek.

I was psyched that I was going to be on TV. It felt like the one good thing that was happening to me in what had been a very difficult fall. I knew I didn’t want any negativity in my life and being on the cheer team had become a very negative experience for me.

The night I quit the cheer team, I went home and decided to throw away a bunch of my old high school photos and things that had a connection with that time in my life. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I didn’t have those same friends. I wanted to be free of that old life. While I was emptying out a drawer of old junk, I found Derek’s swim goggles and some photos he had given me. Suddenly all the anger I had been swallowing came rushing up. I called Derek and told him to come get his stuff.

(I could have just thrown it all away, but honestly, I just wanted an excuse to see Derek. It had been a while and I missed him so much.)

Derek said he would come over and we hung up. My parents were downstairs in their room in the basement which is towards the back of the house, so I knew they wouldn’t hear Derek coming in, and I justified that I didn’t need to tell them that he was coming over just to grab his stuff and leave. Pretty soon I heard him knocking on the front door. I let him in and we walked back up to my room on the third floor.

I said, “Here you go,” and handed him his things. He looked at them and seemed to be a little bit taken aback that I was returning the photos.

“I’m not taking these back. You can just throw them away,” he said.

“Fine. I will.”

Derek knew I said that to hurt him, but he didn’t get upset. He also didn’t leave. Instead he leaned over and kissed me. It was like a jolt of electricity running through my body. I knew this was completely wrong. I should have pushed him away and told him to get out. But I was lonely and weak. I knew Derek wanted to have sex and I thought,
I’m already pregnant, so I have nothing to lose. I can’t get more pregnant.

I was totally about to cave, but before things could go much further, my dad walked in. Derek and I immediately sprang apart. I walked to the other side of the bed and Derek stayed where he was. I looked at my dad and it was like he had snapped. He had this crazy-eyed look, and he was holding a knife in his hand.

I was freaking out. I thought,
I’m pregnant and my dad is holding a knife and threatening my baby’s daddy and now there is no chance of us ever getting back together.

I said to my dad, “Michael, what are you doing with a knife?”

Derek grabbed our house phone. “I’m calling the police.”

And then my dad pulled out his cell phone and he called the police, too.

It all happened so quickly. A minute later, the police arrived. My dad ran to the front door and began telling his version of what had happened. Then Derek told his version. Their stories didn’t match up because both of them were lying. My dad said Derek was having sex with me, which, if given more time, could have happened, but hadn’t. Derek said he came over to watch a movie, which was way off.

So I told the police what had really happened. They weren’t happy with me for inviting Derek over and not telling my parents and they told Derek he was not allowed to be at my house ever again. But the worst part was that, since he had been holding a knife, they arrested my dad and took him to jail.

I was left to deal with the fallout, but I guess I was mostly to blame. About fifteen minutes later my dad called me from jail and told me to get my mom to come bail him out. Somehow she had slept through all the chaos and had no idea what my dad had done or that Derek had even been over.

I woke my mom up and told her what had happened, but she said she wasn’t going to bail my dad out. From that I gathered that my mom and dad were probably in a fight. Since my mom wouldn’t pay my dad’s bail, I called Derek and told him he should pay it. I felt that this was really all his fault for trying to have sex with me in my house again. On the phone he sounded like he understood, so the next morning I waited for him to come get me before school so we could go bail my dad out but he never showed up.

I got a ride to school, but by lunch I still hadn’t heard from Derek and now I had no way of getting home because my dad, who usually picked me up, couldn’t drive me because he was in jail. My last class was PE, so I called Derek from the locker room to insist he come pick me up. I was past the point of being patient. I was pissed.

“Derek, where are you?”

“At home.”

“Are you going to come get me?”

“No.”

I snapped. “Derek, come get me. It’s your fault my dad’s in jail. I have no one to take me home. I’ve been waiting on you all fucking day!”

Derek had put me on speaker and I heard laughing in the background. I figured it was his sister and I was furious he was letting her laugh at me.

“It must be fun, Derek, hurting somebody who fucking loved you. It must be great doing drugs and wasting your life. FUCK YOU! If you don’t get your ass here I will never talk to you ever again! You’re the reason why there are all these problems in my life.”

The school bell rang, and the other class was coming in.

“So are you going to come get me?”

He must have finally realized how angry I was because he said, “Yes. I’ll be right there.”

I needed to pull myself together. You could tell I had been crying and yelling. I looked up and saw that this girl I had known since junior high was in the locker room. I liked her, and she was one of the few people I still talked to.

She came up to me and asked, “Farrah, you okay?”

I told her I was fine. I knew that her boyfriend was friends with Derek, so I thought maybe she could give me some insight into what was going on in his life.

I asked her, “Have you seen Derek with any other girls?”

“No. He still talks about you sometimes.”

I was surprised to hear that. It made me feel like maybe he was still in love with me. That was really all I needed to hear. “Oh? Well, we’ve been done for a while. I just wanted to know.”

Then, for some reason, the whole crazy story came tumbling out, “He is so dumb. He came over last night to get some of his things and my dad got mad and pulled a knife on him and they called the cops on each other. So now my dad’s in jail and I’ve been yelling at Derek all day.”

She looked a little shocked. “Wow, I’m sorry.” I could tell that she felt bad for me, but I don’t think she really knew what to say or how to help.

I tried to smile. “Well, I guess it’s all my fault anyway. I gotta go. See you later.”

I went outside and walked in between the school building and the gym, down the railroad tracks, and then I finally saw Derek pull up in his maroon Lumina—his baby. That car was his way to go anywhere he wanted, whenever he wanted. The sight of it made my blood boil. I was so angry I could barely look Derek in the face. I didn’t even know who he was anymore. I was so angry I wanted to use him. I wanted him to have to pay for something since he hadn’t come through for me on my dad’s bail.

I got in the car and said, “Derek before you take me home, I need to stop at the drugstore.”