The Breakup

I didn’t like Ali.  At all.  He was arrogant, loud and overall obnoxious.  For the duration of my high school career, I managed to avoid crossing paths with him for the most part.  We both played basketball, so I would see him sometimes before the dividers went up at 3:00 p.m. for the teams to practice.  Other than that, thanks to the wonderful scheduling of my guidance counselor Ali was a non-factor.  However, that all would change fall of my senior year.

As summer began to say farewell, September greeted me with the unpleasant joke of being in the same Health class as Ali.  Initially I was slightly panicked.  I did not want him to be the father of my child for our senior project*.  While he was extremely easy on the eyes, I found his personality quite offensive.  I dodged two bullets when the teacher sat us in alphabetical order (Ali was on the opposite side of the classroom) and Jeff asked me to be the mother of his child for the project.

It wasn’t long before Ali would frequently find his way over to my side of the room to spark up a conversation.  My disdain for him began to lessen, but I simply wasn’t interested.  Eventually, that would all change.  I didn’t play basketball my senior year because of an injury and decided to take the time for rehabilitation to be prepared for volleyball in the spring.  To keep me busy, my home room teacher offered me the job as score keeper for the boys basketball team.  As a result, Ali and I grew to know one another better and we became friends.

The turning point was in January when we attended a Super Bowl party together.  It was snowing outside, but because the party was close to my home I decided to go anyway.  I picked up Ali from his house in my mom’s ’93 Mitsubishi Eclipse and we made our way over to the party.  It began to snow harder and I told Ali I was leaving because I wasn’t comfortable driving in the developing storm.  We walked out of the house and he stopped, grabbing my hand.  “I should kiss you right now” he said.  I looked at him, and with the snow falling around us…he did just that.

From that moment on we were inseparable.  Well for the most part.  The coaches began making me and the other score keeper (my best friend) set in the front of the bus with them during away trips (apparently we were a distraction).  Ali became cool with my family, and I with his.  I remember being terrified to meet his older sister.  She was like his mother (his mom passed away when he was a child) and played a very important role in his life.  My mom absolutely adored him.  All was right in the world. We had so much fun together.  We were star athletes, with college on the horizon.  Not to mention we were good-looking. 

 Ali and I was THAT couple. 

Our reign would come to a close around the end of April 2000.  Ali came to my house after school and we watched television for a few before my mom sent us to the store.  She wanted to me buy items to redecorate the bathroom and I told me I could pick whatever theme I desired.  We completed the chore, and as I parked the car in front of my house Ali said “We need to talk”.  In the background, Donnell Jones “Where I Wanna Be” could barely be heard over the rain as my heart stopped.  He began telling me that I was too good for him and I tuned out.  I turned away from him looking out of the rain splattered windshield. 

I fought back tears, as he finished his speech with “I still want to be friends and go to the prom with you”.  Silent, I nodded in agreement.  “Do you want me to take you home?”   He responded “No” and walked off in the pouring rain.  I couldn’t make my way upstairs fast enough.  I stood in the doorway of my mother’s bedroom and immediately she asked “What’s wrong?”  I fell on her bed crying as I told her that Ali broke up with me.   She said the comforting things that mother’s say, stroking my hair as  tears stained her sheets.

The next day at school, I decided I couldn’t stand the sight of Ali again.  Furthermore, I didn’t want to be his friend.  So I ignored him.  As far as I was concerned, he no longer existed.  At least not in my world.  I ignored him to the point where he became so frustrated that he grabbed me in the hallway days later and said “I’m going to make you be my friend”.  I looked him square in the eyes and told him “I don’t think we should go to prom together anymore” and walked off.

Nothing could prepare me for what would happen next…

*The senior year Health project was what became known as “flour babies”.  You had to take a bag of flour, and make a “baby” out of it.  You brought your baby to school with you everyday for the duration of the marking period.  If the bag of flour punctured or burst you failed.  If your teacher realized you left your baby unattended…you failed.  If your baby had no clothes on…you failed.  Fun stuff.