I recently found my old diary from freshman year buried in my closet.
September 9th
Dear Diary,
OMG, last night was my first high school party! Chloe and I went to a sophomore's house, Matt Johnson. I was so nervous getting ready—tried on like four outfits and settled on my new flared jeans and a blue spaghetti strap top. I feel like I have no boobs, especially compared to Chloe, but she said I looked cute.
The party was in the basement and it was so loud and crowded. Chloe gave me a red cup of "jungle juice." It tasted like fruit punch mixed with rubbing alcohol and burned my throat. After a few sips, my head felt all fuzzy and floaty.
And then… Mark Davies talked to me! A junior on the soccer team! He saw me with my drink and just smiled and said, "Pace yourself." That was it, but he noticed me. I spent the rest of the night just dancing with friends and looking for him in the crowd. My head is killing me this morning, but it was so worth it. I hope he’s at the next party.
September 16th
Dear Diary,
Another weekend, another party. This one was at Jessica Miller’s. I wore my black mini-skirt, the one Mom thinks is too short, with a tight red tank top. I drank two cups of that awful jungle juice and the room started to feel wobbly, like being on a boat. I saw Mark Davies for a second, but he was with his older friends and didn't see me. Kind of a bummer.
But then, someone started a game of Spin the Bottle. My heart was pounding. When it was my turn, the bottle landed on Kyle Peterson! He's the quiet, cute guy from my algebra class.
We had to go into the laundry room. It was dark and he just leaned in and kissed me. It wasn't just a peck; he used his tongue. It was so wet and weird but… not totally bad? His hand was on my bare waist and it felt so warm. My first real kiss with tongue! My lips are still tingling.
September 23rd
Dear Diary,
This week was so weird. Kyle Peterson has been completely ignoring me in algebra, like the kiss never even happened. Chloe says he's just shy, but it feels humiliating.
Last night we went to a bonfire at the quarry. It wasn't really a party, just a bunch of people. I tried beer for the first time. It's disgusting and bitter, but I wanted to look cool.
And then Mark Davies came over. He remembered me! He called me "jungle juice girl." We ended up sitting on a log together, and our legs were touching. He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. He smelled like smoke and soap. We just sat there for a while by the fire. No kiss, but it felt like so much more than what happened with Kyle. I think I really like him.
September 30th
Dear Diary,
I think I’ve officially died. Mark smiled and said "Hey, Brittany" to me in the hall on Monday! I feel like I'm floating.
Last night was Sarah Jenkins’s birthday get-together. I wore my green velvet-y top with my black skirt. Mark found me as soon as I got there and we ended up in a corner of the big sectional couch. He put his arm around me and whispered, "Can I kiss you, Brittany?"
It was the most perfect kiss, nothing like with Kyle. So slow and deep and sure. He pulled me closer until I was half in his lap. Then his hand slid under my top. Diary, his hand was on my bare skin. I gasped and his hand went up my back and brushed my bra strap. I felt this electric shock go through my whole body. I could even feel him getting hard against my hip. We only stopped because Sarah’s dad came downstairs. I can't stop thinking about his hand on my back.
October 7th
Dear Diary,
I am so stupid. I hate everyone, especially Mark Davies.
I spent all last night getting ready for Chloe's party, hoping to see him. I even wore my little black dress. I got there and was looking everywhere for him, and then I found him. He was in the den, kissing Amber Phillips. A senior. And it wasn't a sweet kiss. He had her pushed against the mantelpiece, his hand grabbing her ass. It looked so... animalistic. I felt like I was going to be sick.
Later, I overheard Jessica Miller and Tiffany talking about him. Tiffany said, "Mark Davies will say anything and do anything to get in a girl’s pants. Everyone knows that." It all clicked. The hand on my back, the sweet questions… it was all a lie. He was just playing me.
I'm done. He’s a disgusting pig. There are other guys out there. Maybe Adam Cole, or even Matt Johnson. Boys are so stupid.
October 14th
Dear Diary,
New Brittany, new plan: just have fun.
Last night was a huge Halloween party. I went as a sexy devil in a tight red satin dress and fishnets. I barely recognized myself in the mirror—I actually looked powerful. I had a few drinks of some "Witches' Brew" punch and felt pretty reckless.
I ended up talking to Adam Cole, who was dressed as a vampire. We were out on the patio and he put his arm around me. Then he started kissing me. It wasn’t a great kiss—he was kinda clumsy. His hand went down and squeezed my ass through my dress. Instead of feeling romantic, it felt… direct. Then I did something that surprised even me—I put my hand on the front of his jeans. He groaned, and I felt him get hard instantly. It was a thrill, knowing I could do that. Maybe it’s not about feelings. Maybe it's just a game.
October 21st
Dear Diary,
I almost didn't go to Matt Johnson's party last night, but Chloe made me. I wore my grey plaid skirt with the fishnets from Halloween underneath, like a secret. I had a couple of Cokes with peppermint schnapps and felt pretty good.
I ended up sitting with Matt on a giant beanbag. He’s so much easier to talk to than Mark or Kyle. He leaned in and kissed me. It was a nice kiss, warm and confident. His hand wandered under my shirt, and then he paused right at the edge of my bra.
I don't know what came over me—maybe the schnapps—but I took his hand and guided it under my bra. His fingers touched my bare tit. Oh my god, the shock of it! It was like a light socket. A hot, tingling pleasure shot right through me. I just melted against his hand. I’m not sure what this means, but it was definitely fun.
October 28th
Dear Diary,
Lunch conversation got intense this week. Jessica asked what "base" everyone had gotten to. Tiffany said "third," and Chloe said a guy had felt her up over her shirt. I admitted to "second," thinking of Matt. It felt weirdly like I'd scored points in some game.
Last night was the homecoming after-party at Ryan Peterson's. It was a total free-for-all with black lights everywhere. I had to pee, so I went upstairs to find a bathroom. First door I opened… it was Mark Davies. He had some freshman girl bent over a dresser, skirt hiked up, and he was fucking her. I saw his eyes before I slammed the door. I was trembling.
I still had to pee, so I tried another door. And I saw another couple on the floor. It was Tiffany. The one from lunch. She wasn't lying about third base.
I just grabbed Chloe and left. It feels like a door has been opened to this secret adult world, and it's way messier than I ever imagined.
November 4th
Dear Diary,
I can’t get the images of Mark and Tiffany out of my head. At lunch, Tiffany gave me this sly look and said, "You left Ryan's party early, Brittany. You missed all the fun." It was like she knew I saw her.
I almost stayed in last night, but Chloe dragged me to a small get-together at Kyle Peterson's. He was actually really normal and sweet, not awkward at all. He apologized for being weird after the first party, saying he'd never really kissed anyone before. It was so honest that I leaned in and kissed him.
We ended up making out on his bed. It was really gentle and slow. His hand went under my sweater and just rested on my ribs. It was nice, but… too nice. My body didn't feel that jolt like before. As I was lying there with him, I found myself thinking about that louder, secret world, and a part of me wanted to be there instead.
November 11th
Dear Diary,
So, I guess Kyle is over. Chloe and the girls cornered me at lunch, telling me he was a "shy band geek" and that I was "wasting a Friday night." It's mean, but they're kind of right.
Last night’s party was in a barn, which was actually really cool with twinkle lights and a DJ in the hayloft. I was feeling pretty good when Matt Johnson found me and pulled me behind a beam to make out. He unhooked my bra through my sweater and his hands were all over me. It was hot and familiar. Then he just gave me a smack on the ass and left to play beer pong. And weirdly, I was fine with it.
That’s when I saw him. A senior, leaning against the wall, with shaggy dark hair and a Ramones shirt. He just looked… bored. I had to walk past him, and he said, "Trying to forget something or just trying to feel something?" I was so thrown off. He just smirked and said his name was Derek. Then he looked away like I was dismissed. He saw right through me. I need to know more about him.
November 18th
Dear Diary,
I am obsessed with Derek. I asked the girls about him and Jessica said, "Stay away from him. He's bad news." Apparently, he sells weed and got kicked out of his old school. That just makes him more interesting.
I couldn't sleep Monday night, just thinking about him. I ended up touching myself, imagining his hands on me. When I came, it was his name I was thinking of.
Last night’s party was at a house with an indoor pool. I kept looking for Derek, but he wasn't there. I was so disappointed. Later, Matt Johnson cornered me by the furnace. He pushed me against the wall and his hand went right under my skirt, his finger slipping inside me. Oh my god. The feeling of being filled just a little bit was so intense. I almost came right there, but his friends called him and he just left me aching and dizzy.
Later, Chris Taylor, that really hot freshman from the football team, saw I was shaky and got me some water. He was so sweet. He ended up kissing me, just a really nice, simple kiss. My head is so confused. Matt's fingers inside me and a sweet kiss from Chris. What do I even want?
November 25th
Dear Diary,
My brain feels like a pinball machine. Went to a party at Ben Carter’s fancy house, and Derek was there. My heart just about stopped. I tried to play it cool, but eventually had to walk past him. He said, "You look less lost tonight," and then, "Maybe you just got better at pretending." Was that a compliment or an insult? He makes me feel like a bug under a microscope.
Feeling all confused and angry, I went looking for Matt. We ended up in the workout room and he fingered me again, rougher this time, against the mirrored wall. I felt that familiar hardness against my leg and decided to try again. I unzipped his jeans and tried to give him a handjob. He was moaning, but nothing was happening, and my wrist started to ache. Finally, he just grabbed my hand and told me to stop, that I wasn't doing it right. He zipped up and left. I felt so stupid and incompetent.
I need to get this straight.
Boy-List:
Kyle Peterson: Made out. Sweet but shy and boring. 3/10
Adam Cole: Made out. Fun to feel in control, but meh. 4/10
Chris Taylor: Kissed. Hot, seems nice. 5/10
Matt Johnson: Third base. Exciting, knows what he's doing (mostly). Confusing. 7/10
Derek Shaw: Talked? Mysterious, hot, and I can't stop thinking about him. Want him to kiss me more than anything. 10/10
Mark Davies: Kissed. Asshole. Pig. But still remember his hand on my skin. Ugh. 1/10?
December 2nd
Dear Diary,
I feel like a totally different person. Last night’s party was at Mark Davies’ house. I know I hate him, but it was the only option. My plan was to ignore him.
I was dancing when I saw Derek in the kitchen. Just as he looked over, Matt Johnson started grinding on me and kissing me, right in the middle of the floor. Derek saw, his face was blank, and he just turned and walked away. He didn't care.
A flash of anger went through me. Fine. I grabbed Matt’s hand and pulled him upstairs to a little girl's pink bedroom. He was drunk and fumbled with my jeans, trying to finger me, but it was just sloppy and hurt.
"Wait," I said, and pushed him back. I wanted a re-do from last time. I unzipped his jeans, and this time, I took him in my mouth. He gasped and grabbed my head. It was powerful and disgusting and amazing all at once. He came all over my chin and my new sweater. I wiped myself off and didn't feel disgusted. I felt… accomplished. Like I'd unlocked a new level in the game.
December 9th
Dear Diary,
No party this weekend, which is probably for the best. The lunch table conversations are insane now. On Tuesday, Jessica was complaining about being horny and Chloe straight up asked how often we all masturbate. Tiffany said "almost every night." I admitted to a couple of times a week.
Then Tiffany asked who had actually had sex. Her and Jessica both admitted they had. Suddenly, being a virgin felt so… juvenile.
Then they asked about me and Matt. I told them I gave him a blowjob at the party. Their eyes went wide. Chloe asked if I'd swallowed (nope!). Tiffany looked at me with this new respect and asked, "So are you gonna fuck him next?"
Am I? The idea is terrifying. But it's not some abstract thing anymore. Girls my age do it. The world feels divided into two groups now: the girls who have, and the girls who haven't. I'm getting really tired of being in the second group.
December 16th
Dear Diary,
Last night was the pre-Christmas break party. I wore a green velour mini-dress and felt so confident in my own skin.
Chris Taylor found me and we ended up talking for a long time. He’s actually really funny and genuine. He took me out onto a balcony and asked sweetly if he could kiss me. But this time, I was the one in control. I deepened the kiss, then I had a crazy idea.
I knelt down in front of him. His voice was a choked whisper when he asked what I was doing. I just smiled and took him in my mouth. This time, I knew what I was doing. When I felt him about to come, I remembered Chloe’s question.
You swallowed? I wanted to cross that line.
So I did. A hot, salty gush flooded my throat. It was a shocking sensation, and my eyes watered, but I did it. I stood up, zipped him up calmly, and said, "Merry Christmas." He just stared at me in awe.
I didn’t feel used or messy. I felt powerful. I’m finally in charge of the game.
January 6th
Dear Diary,
The world is different. I'm different. Derek Shaw.
It was the first party after break, and I had given up on him. Then he just appeared next to me. "You look bored," he said. A little while later, he said, "Let's get out of here." We drove in his old muscle car to a deserted parking lot. He turned to me and said, "I want to see if you're as real as you pretend not to be," and then he kissed me. It was a slow, deep kiss that paid attention.
I knew what he wanted. Trying to sound cool, I asked, "Is the back seat of your car big enough?"
Climbing into the back was so awkward. He positioned himself over me and whispered, "Are you sure?" I nodded. He pushed in slowly, and I felt a tight, painful stretching. It hurt - a sharp, undeniable pain. But I told him not to stop. I wanted him. The pain faded and was replaced by this overwhelming fullness. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. His rhythm built, his whole body tensed, and I felt a hot wet rush deep inside. He didn't pull out.
My body aches. But I have no regrets. I finally did it, finally joined the club. Lying there in the dark with his heart beating against mine, I knew one thing for sure. I am completely, totally, and hopelessly in love with Derek Shaw.
January 13th
Dear Diary,
Why go to a party when I can have him? I got the text—'Outside'—and I snuck out. We went to our spot, the empty lot, and this time there was no hesitation. I was so wet for him already.
This time it didn't hurt. It just felt… incredible. While he was fucking me, I touched myself. "Show me what you want," he rasped. The combination was too much. I came crying out his name. He came a few seconds later, inside me again.
I love the secrecy, the rawness. Nothing else matters.
January 20th
Dear Diary,
I practically lived in Derek’s car this week. It’s our routine: he texts, I sneak out, we fuck. We did it on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. I know his body and he comes inside me every time.
Last night, afterwards, I felt brave. "What are we?" I whispered.
He got so quiet and tense. "It's just this, Brittany," he said, not looking at me. "It's good, right? Why does it have to be anything else?"
It's just this. Just sex. The words hit me like a slap. I thought we were falling in love, but I'm just his backseat fuck when he's bored. The drive home was silent and he didn't even kiss me goodbye. I feel like the biggest fool in the world.
January 27th
Dear Diary,
I broke down and told Chloe everything about Derek. She just hugged me and said, "He’s trash. You are so much better than being some burnout's backseat fuck-toy." Hearing her say it out loud made me so angry. She was right.
That night I texted him: ‘I’m done.’
His reply: ‘ok.’
I cried, but then I deleted his number. It’s over.
Last night, I went to a real party for the first time in weeks. I did three shots of tequila and was ready to forget everything. I wore my little black dress and felt powerful.
Matt Johnson found me, and his grin was like a predator's. I just looked at him and said, "Are we gonna do this or what?" We went up to the parents' bedroom and I took my dress off right in front of him. The sex was hard and fast. I didn't come, didn't even get close. He pulled out and came all over my stomach.
I didn't feel heartbroken. I didn't feel much of anything. And right now, that feels like exactly what I need.
February 3rd
Dear Diary,
I get it now. High school is about power, and sex is the fastest way for a girl to get it.
Last night’s party was a blur. I saw Chris Taylor, and he had that sweet, hopeful look on his face. I kissed him, led him upstairs, and fucked him standing against a bathroom door. He was so grateful. I left him there and went back to the party.
An hour later, Mark Davies sat next to me. "You've changed, Brittany," he said, his hand on my thigh. "You're not a scared little freshman anymore." It was a total line. I just looked at him and said, "You want to fuck me, Mark?" His eyes went wide, then he grinned. We did it in his car. It wasn't intimate, just raw, bruising sex. I was right there with him, scratching his back. He came on my chest and was texting someone else before I was even dressed.
Two guys in one night. It's empty and cold, but it’s a rush. It’s power. I think I'm addicted to it. I don’t know who I am anymore, and I’m not sure I care.
February 10th
Dear Diary,
Am I a slut? Heard Jessica whisper it by my locker. A month ago, it would have killed me. Now? I feel a weird sense of pride. So what if I am?
Last night's party was lame, so I ended up drinking whiskey in the backyard with some football players. One of them, a huge senior named Mike, slurred, "I hear you give great head." I just said, "You hear right." I blew him between the houses, on my knees in the cold, wet grass. It was a task to be completed. He didn’t even say thank you. I felt nothing but an ache in my knees.
I went back inside and saw Adam Cole. I pushed him into a bedroom and fucked him. I was on top, totally in control. I made him come, then got dressed and left.
I walked home and felt… nothing. I’m not looking for love. I’m collecting experiences. It’s a game, and now I’m winning.
February 17th
Dear Diary,
The lunch table conversation has changed. It’s not about crushes. It’s a scoreboard now. A body count.
On Wednesday, Tiffany was complaining about being bored with her boyfriend and needing "new dick." Then Jessica just casually announced she’s on number five. Five. Everyone got quiet, and you could practically hear the gears turning as we all did our own mental math. Chloe admitted she’s at three.
Then all eyes were on me. Slutty Brittany. They were expecting a big number. I thought about Derek, Matt, Chris, Mark, Adam.
“Five,” I said, matching Jessica. It worked. They looked at me with a new kind of respect, like I was finally in the club.
But thinking about them all—Derek’s intensity, Matt’s roughness, Chris’s sweetness—it’s just a collection of memories. I feel like I'm playing a part. A character named "Slutty Brittany" who fucks boys and doesn't care. It’s a powerful costume, but it’s so lonely. I stayed home last night instead of going to a party. I just lay in bed feeling hollow. I have all this power, so why do I feel so completely and utterly alone?
-----Three Years Later-----
May 28th
Dear Diary,
I found you today, buried in a shoebox in my closet. I haven’t written in here in.. what, three years? I'm seventeen now, a senior, and graduation is next week. Reading through these pages... it's like watching a movie about someone else’s life.
Was I really that girl? The one who stressed over a blue spaghetti strap top? Whose world was rocked because a junior said two words to her? She was so fragile, so full of hope and terror all at once. Every kiss or touch was the most important thing in the world.
That Boy-List is almost funny now, so serious and clinical. The boys are just faces. Kyle Peterson is in a cool indie band; we say hi sometimes. Chris Taylor is the star quarterback, dating the head cheerleader. I saw Matt Johnson at a party last month - he's gotten fat and tried to drunkenly flirt with me. I just laughed.
I don't go to parties much anymore. The thrill is gone. Nobody whispers the word "slut" behind my back anymore. Now, it's just a given. It's just who I am. Brittany Myers. Oh yeah, her. She fucks. It's not an insult, just a fact. Like having brown hair.
I saw Mark Davies last week. He’s going to some state school on a soccer scholarship. He looks older now, tired. He has a serious girlfriend. He didn’t even recognize me.
And Derek.
Derek Shaw. He never graduated, works at a garage now. I saw him once getting gas. His hair was greasy, and he looked thin. He didn’t see me. That heart-stopping, all-consuming "love" I wrote about feels so dramatic now. So childish. It wasn't love. It was just a loss of control. He was the first person who took something from me I didn't know I was supposed to be guarding - it wasn’t my virginity. It was... my belief in secrets. My belief in something more. He taught me it was "just this." And I learned the lesson well. Too well.
I read about that night I had sex with Mike and Adam. Two boys in one night. I try to feel the power I wrote about, that rush. But all I feel is a quiet, hollow sadness for that girl. The one who thought being empty was the same thing as being strong.
I close this diary now. That girl, freshman Brittany, is gone. I don’t know if the girl who took her place is any better. Maybe she’s just better at pretending. The prom is tomorrow night. I don’t have a date. I'll probably just go with Chloe, get drunk, and maybe I’ll go home with someone. Or maybe I won’t. For the first time in a long time, I'm not sure what I want. And that feels... real. It feels like me.