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And her new ta-tas were her reward for raising me instead of going to college. My mother was never subtle about acknowledging that I was more of a burden than a blessing.

Hope for my fantasy to become my reality had been reignited. Apparently, her new chest was purchased in lieu of an education.

As the anniversary of his death approaches, collaborators on the music icon's off-Broadway show ' Lazarus' share accounts of a cancer-stricken artist productive and engaged until the end.

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And my second was centered on any and all parts of Matty Mc Kibben. Or that I'd counted the seven times I'd caught Matty looking at me since school started. But maybe my mom and T were right—maybe a slimming black sling was enough of an improvement for now. Maybe his "you should come" comment was made out of post-orgasmic obligation. Sometimes a keg is all you need for a little privacy. I desperately wanted him to say something, anything, even though I was stuck on mute. If he did, I'd have to have "the talk." And that was gonna be...awkward. Because aside from my parent's "Teen Mom" sitch, the bonfire was a lucky omen in my family. Apparently, my convo with Matty wasn't the only talk that I needed to have. But, at the moment, the dumpster hump was my primary objective.

My first fantasy involved some intimate touching..the elbow. Which, of course, didn't quite work out as I'd envisioned. I thought Matty did, but he hadn't texted me, he didn't walk me in. I finally got him alone, or as alone as you can be at a kick-back. But when I finally got a chance to talk to him, I couldn't see Matty's right eye. I was hardcore spiraling and the situation was rapidly spinning out of my control. I made a new deal—if Matty didn't have the pink, it would clear the stink. Was the universe throwing obstacles in my way to keep me from making a mistake? Ming was giving me a Viagra-hard time about the Matty status...because she was reeling about our own status as friends. But that wasn't gonna stop me from DTR-ing and he was giving me the sign!

My sideshow status as the suicide freak was about to end and my creeper gear was on the verge of retirement.

Eight if you counted the time I wiped out on the quesadilla. Then, in a very public display of validation, Matty admitted he did invite me! In the moment all I could think about was the fact that twenty-four hours ago, Matty was taking my temperature with his all-beef thermometer, and now he couldn't even ask me how much foam I wanted. It was where I was meant to cement my relationship with Matty to double bag it.

Maybe I wasn't gonna be one of those girls who gets the fantasy in high school. For 2.8 weeks, Matty couldn't keep his hands off me. And aside from the fact that my Vagimatic was suffering some serious road burn, I was high on life. I wasn't starting a lifelong battle with sex addiction. Like the kind I had with Brian Palermo when we played doctor as kids. I mean, I didn't need to know his philosophical outlook on life or what he thought about Civil War, I just wanted to know...something. And she was intent on convincing me that Matty and I had a thing. Considering I didn't even have pink eye, the pink eye outbreak at school was causing me an unreasonable amount of discomfort. I wasn't cool hooking up with a guy who was kissing other girls.


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