OOC:
I am just putting this out here, this is more of a light hearted story more than anything.
It’s tough to be a professional wrestling fan in school.
You have moments of fleeting popularity thanks to sticking with a fake sport during down periods. When pro wrestling is popular in the mainstream, you are viewed as a tastemaker. What show is the best one to watch? Should I order this PPV? The moment pro wrestling falls out of the mainstream eye, you are screwed.
However, there was Fiona. A classmate of mine that probably had a crush on me and for the love of god, I don’t know why. After confessing that I had a crush on a classmate and getting humiliated in front of the entire school, I really just shut down. I’m pretty sure somebody could’ve burnt down the middle school and could’ve pleaded insanity by subpar teaching and got off scot free.
What do I remember about Fiona? Well, this is gonna sound awful but breasts. Big ones. And her brown hair with blonde highlights which made her standout.
What?
I’m not proud of it but I was a teenager and I was horny as all hell. Oh, and she had a very long, very European last name that nobody could pronounce. I will admit that on a half-day before Easter break, we were allowed to choose any activities we want the last two hours. I picked open swim, which I couldn’t do because Fiona picked and I wanted to see her in a swimsuit. That’s another one for the something awful category. Fiona happened to be a wrestling fan, a casual one compared to myself who could be a classified as a hardcore and most likely to gif wrestling for 150 followers on social media.
I’d consider Fiona being friendly to me as a miraculous act of God. Fiona was pretty high on the popularity depth chart and I’d make crack the starting lineup if everybody in school had the bubonic plague. Maybe she was just a good person with a big heart? I didn’t know but I could count the number of friends I had in four years of high school with half of my thumb and first two fingers. Out of the blue, Fiona asked me if I wanted to come over to her place to watch the wrestling that just moved to Friday nights. I was game, heck even excited and cleared it with my mom. Did I tell her it was a girl? Negative. I’m pretty sure she was just happy to see me hanging out with somebody instead of what I’d usually be doing on a Friday night. Which is watching wrestling in my room, by myself.
Things were swell, like myself, Fiona had a single parent who worked Friday nights. So I’d leave my house around six-fifteen and get to her house around six-fifty. It wasn’t a bad walk, that’s a perk of living in a small town. Nobody bothers you. I remember one day we were goofing around and Fiona grabbed me in a playful headlock. I have to admit that getting close to her chest was nothing sort of a miracle. Again, remember that I was a teenager with a dial-up connection and average at-best virus protection. So, basically the WWE Divas site was my go-to. This was the start of us occasionally having play wrestling matches, more schlocky and over the top than actual wrestling matches. Giggles filled the room more than grunts and howls of pain. I would usually win, sometimes cheating in over-the-top ways like the dreaded blinding power or toy wrestling belt to the head.
All good things come to an end. Fiona was moving with her father to Chicago, home of bad traffic and deep dish pizza that’s basically lasagna with bread. We had one Friday left since I’d be heading up north the following Friday. We started to wrestle around and I began to notice the campiness was gone while we had our “match”. If this was a work, it was quickly breaking down into a shoot and I tried to lighten the mood. Maybe Fiona was sick of losing, hell I said before that she could win. I had the advantage in the weight and height department and I always worried about hurting her.
I finally coerced her into stopping but when we resumed, she had taken her shirt off. Hate to break it to the pervs but despite both being seventeen going on eighteen, the attire was always loose. There was a bikini top, a multicolored one underneath that most certainly served as a distraction. Within seconds, Fiona pushed me down, held me down and counted a quick three. I was angry, not because of losing but because of the violation of trust. She could’ve thought I was getting off on this and I had to think hard. I went above and beyond to try and keep a clear head, and try to focus on subjects that didn’t arose me. Could I have been fully erect at one point while messing around? I can’t declare that as one-hundred percent impossible. My brain might have lapsed. There wear times rolling around that my body brushed off her breasts and her nipples were erect.
I remembered storming out, Fiona realizing the night had gone haywire and tried to apologize. I did my best to hide it and all of the suddenly I developed a “fever” that kept me out of her last week of school. They had sent a card around for students to sign during those off days and my signature was nowhere to be found.
To the end of a good time.
Suffice to say, this was the pre-social media era so once she had moved away, there was no way to stay friends. Or get in contact, so life just moved on. I graduated, got a warehouse job, found a place to live and never looked her up. I wasn’t mad anymore, I just moved on. Until last year when I got a friend request from Fiona. I accepted it, we messaged back and forth until the day she told me she was coming back to town. Fiona pitched meeting up and having dinner. I agree and she picked The Packing House and my wallet automatically had a heart attack. It’s by the airport and she was staying close by, so it made sense. I put on my best job interview/wedding/funeral shirt and met her at the restaurant.
She looked great, much much better than I did. The highlights were gone, her hair was shortened, dyed black and was now a fringe bob. She wore a jade silk dress with printed heels. We fit in with the ambience of the restaurant which prided itself in being a traditional Midwestern supper club…with downtown steakhouse prices. We got to talking about our lives, she had done some “modeling” before settling into working in corporate side of the fashion. I was skeptical since you could do do anything and consider it modeling. However, I was quickly proven wrong when she had some photos and these were true fashion companies and she looked great.
“So, how’s your dating life been?” Fiona asked after finishing her drink.
“Oh you know, a massive failure.” I said as I could see Fiona trying to register what I said. “Did online dating, got stood up at the zoo, had a date with the girl who humiliated me in middle school.” I said.
“Hannah? How’s that go?” Fiona asked, fully ready to take in this tale of pain.
“Awful. She apologized numerous times, which I was fine with. Told her repeatedly, we were all young and dumb. She started drinking heavily and getting really sad and I was stuck in the middle of a town I’ve never been after her friend picked her up. Had a date a few weeks later that went so bad I made up a fake emergency to get out of it. That ended up resulting me going over to her place a few weeks later and I was so oblivious to the concept of Netflix and Chill.” I said as Fiona stifled laughter.
“You got Netflix and Chill’d?” Fiona asked with a wide smile as I shrugged my shoulders.
“I was happy watching Bobs Burgers and she asked if I wanted to go to the bedroom. I had just worked a long shift the night before and my back was hurting and didn’t want to watch TV on a bed” I said as Fiona was full-on laughing. “She had been getting real close, even giving me little kisses and love bites on the neck. She got up and told me to meet her in the bedroom in a few minutes. So I followed her, walked in and there she was was with no top on!” I finished my story by downing the last of my drink.
“Did it finally register what was about to go down?” Fiona asked with a tinge of friendly snark.
“Well yes, when you walk in and see somebody naked, you first have a mild panic attack, realizing you didn’t bring a condom and them second, get really excited. We did it, became friends with benefits, that ended, we then tried a full on relationship and that lasted for about a year. We finally broke up after a year, had some get togethers but that was it.”
“I’m sorry to hear about that, mine hasn’t been much better. I want to talk about what happened on that last Friday night. I didn’t mean to traumatize you or hurt you emotionally, I was super stressed about the move and I had a ton of anxiety about starting over. I do apologize.” Fiona said in a sincere voice, I could see the events of that final Friday night had weighed heavily on her.
“We were young and dumb, I had no grudge against you. I should apologize for faking a fever and missing school. I regret not being able to sign the farewell card the teacher. I didn’t have many friends in school and I should’ve been a better friend to you.” I said as I saw Fiona fiddling in her bag and she brought out the card and a pen.
“Here’s your chance to sign it!” Fiona said with a smile as I put the old John Hancock on it.
The night finished and we went our separate ways and I thought it was a great way to cap off our friendship.
Until…
