Lucas

I first fell in love when I was fourteen. His name was Lucas and we live in the same neighborhood.

We became friends when I was about thirteen.  My best friend at the time was a very pretty girl. And eventually, she and Lucas started dating. At this point, I had a huge crush on one of the other neighborhood boys, Alex. Me, my best friend at the time, Lucas, Alex, and another one of the boys from the neighborhood were five friends that couldn't be stopped. We did everything together because we all lived in the same neighborhood and at the time, we were too young to drive. 

While us girls were going into our freshman year of high school, the boys were going into their sophomore year. We discovered everything together - alcohol, weed, cigarettes, sexcapades. We shared them all. While Lucas and my friend were dating, everything was fine.

Then, one day, my friend just kind of lost interest in him. We stole some liquor from her parents' cabinet, got drunk at about one in the morning, and walked to Alex's house to hang out with everyone. I let Alex in on the low down - she was going to break up with Lucas. So Alex and I went outside to let them have some alone time.

So she broke it off with him.  It had only been a couple months. We both thought it would be no big thing - they were really young and going to different schools and all that jazz. As far as my friend was concerned, she was just along for the ride and this was her stop.

But, for God knows what reason, Lucas took it hard.  He started tearing up by the time me and Alex got back in the house and Lucas went back home a few minutes later. We barely saw him for the rest of the summer.

By the time school came back around, my friend ended up moving and living in a different school district. Alex went to public school, our other guy friend went to the charter school in our town, and the only two people that ended up at the same school were Lucas and I. We both ended up at the prep school a few towns north.

Lucas and I didn't really end up talking very often in school. However, he did come over to my house about once a week after school and we'd hang out. For some reason, though, he didn't like to talk to me in school. 

It took me a damn long time to finally figure out that the reason Lucas didn't talk to me in school was because he thought he was better than me. He went there the year before and I was brand new and he didn't want to be known as the only friend of the new girl. Which just kind of fucking blows, you know? Like, I wasn't terribly ugly or bitchy or unpopular. By the end of the first week, I found my group of friends, got the hang of the uniform, and built myself a decent reputation. So I didn't really get it.

Then one day, around the time we all got rowdy, ready for Christmas break, he was sitting out in the hall eating lunch when I walked up the stairs and saw him. He stuck his foot out and tripped me.  I didn't fall on my face or anything, I just kind of stumbled. At first, I was humiliated. But when I turned around to glare at him, I saw he was grinning. He stood up, and tickle-attacked me. I started cracking up and ran down the hallway. He immediately started chasing after me. We were both laughing unabashed as if we didn't have a care in the world. 

But then we made the mistake of running past Mr. Brown's room. Mr. Brown was the Chemistry teacher. An awesome guy who teaches better than anyone I've ever been taught by. However, he was also a no-nonsense kind of guy.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he yelled. We stopped in our tracks and snapped our heads down in shame.

Mr. Brown told us to come in to his classroom and sit at tables by ourselves in opposite sides of the room for the rest of our lunch period in silence. We made faces at each other from across the room when he wasn't looking. After what seemed like hours, the lunch bell finally rang. Lucas shot up like his ass was on fire and speed-walked out the door.

As I was packing up my bag, Mr. Brown asked me, "That your boyfriend?"

I stuttered for a second because, for some reason, I was just really not expecting that.

"Just a friend," I replied eventually.

"Do you want him to be your boyfriend?" Mr. Brown asked with that knowing smirk that middle aged men get when talking to naive teenagers.

I was as blase as I possibly could have been when I said, "Nah, he's not my type." My cheeks were flaming red by the time I finally walked out of the Chemistry lab. I wasn't fooling anyone - Mr. Brown knew I was head over heels for this guy. And he was right.

I stayed up day and night thinking about this guy, wondering if he was thinking about me. I constantly daydreamed about what we would do together if he possibly liked me as much as I liked him. But I knew in my heart of hearts that he didn't. He didn't stay up at night wondering what I did that night - if I stayed in or went out with friends. He didn't fall asleep thinking about how happy he could make me.

But I was so infatuated with him. Everything he did was just another reason for me to like him more. I was naive, I was fourteen, and I was in love. 

The school year ended and summer greeted us with open arms. And suddenly, Lucas was back in my life again. A few days before my fifteenth birthday, we ended up making out thanks to a game of truth or dare. 

And after that, I was seeing a hell of a lot more of Lucas. He was over almost every other day. One day in July, we started playing poker. We turned it in to a little bit more than a game of cards though.

Somehow, we decide that when Lucas won a hand, I would feel up on him. And when I won a hand, he would feel up on me. I looked forward to those games every time I heard my doorbell ring and saw him standing on the porch. This continued on and on and on until the Christmas of my sophomore year.

In the time that we were fooling around, my feelings soared for him. He was all I ever thought about. As far as I was concerned, he was perfection. Everything I had ever wanted and everything I ever would want.

When Christmas came around, I didn't see him for a while. I thought it was just because of the holidays so I didn't pay much mind, although I did miss him. But by mid-way through January, I still hadn't seen him. 

He ended up showing his face a few weeks into the new year, but I didn't see him nearly as much. Now, instead of staying up thinking about all the romantic things he would get for me, I stayed up thinking about what had changed. Was it me? Did I do something wrong?  Was it my fault? Did not even like me as a friend anymore?

I was confused and heartbroken. By March, we hadn't fooled around since Christmas and I had only seen him four or five times. Then, halfway through March, my best friend Justin threw his sixteenth birthday party.  Surprisingly, Lucas was there. I didn't expect to see him.  Usually he wouldn't be caught dead hanging out with guys that were younger than him.

I was nervous. I wasn't exactly sure how to approach him. And, at this time, I was dating Shane. I had been dating Shane while this whole Lucas thing was happening. But I didn't know what I wanted. Shane was easy. Shane liked me. And I liked Shane. But I had history with Lucas. And I wanted to see where it would go. I should have stayed loyal to Shane. And I know that now. But I got this rush with Lucas, like he was where I wanted to be. Like he was home. And the Shane thing wasn't serious - not serious enough to tell anyone about, anyway.

So I walked up to Lucas and put my hand on his back and smiled at him. He smiled back. Just as I was about to open my mouth and say something, he walked away. As if the smile was enough for him. We had acknowledged each other's presence and he didn't need anything else. 

I was sad. More than sad, I was mad. I was angry that this guy I used to sabotage my relationship with Shane could drop me so easily. I wasn't anything to him. Just some girl he fooled around with a few times months ago. 

For the rest of the night, I let that anger fuel my fire. I danced the night away with my friends, hung out by the pool, and laughed louder than I usually would. I tried my best not to look at Lucas during the whole party. I wanted him to believe that I was as unaffected by him as he was by me. 

I let myself glance over at him a couple hours later and he was dancing with a girl I played soccer with in the varsity team at our school. She was in my grade - a year younger than Lucas. And she was pretty. 

And it's funny because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Lucas had a "type." Soccer girl and I both had a lot in common, starting with the fact that we obviously both played soccer. But beyond that, we were both tall, a little big-boned, and had long brown hair with a bleached streak in the underside of our hair in the exact same spot. I mean, it was weird. That's not a coincidence.

Lucas started dating soccer girl by the end of spring. That was fine. I just threw myself into my relationship with Shane and I told myself that I wouldn't look back. But I did.

I still do, every now and then.

It's hard because we live in the same neighborhood. Although he left my school to go to some private school in the city after my freshman year, I still had to pass his house everyday to get to my house. He lives on the first street in my neighborhood and I live on the last street. There is literally no way for me to get to my house without passing his.

And every time I pass his house and his car isn't there, I have to wonder where he is. Who he's with. What he's doing. All these scenarios pass through my mind and it fucking blows that the days of me pulling up to my house and seeing his bike in my front yard are over. In the blink of an eye, we weren't even so much as friends anymore.

It's been almost five years, and every now and then, I still think of my first lost love. For a long time, I thought about Lucas constantly. I hoped and prayed that I'd pull up to my house in my rusty old Jeep and see his little coupe pulled up outside. But that rarely happened. He officially had bigger and better things to do. I was pushed aside to live a better life.


But now? Now I'm nineteen. I'm no longer the naive girl I was five years ago. We haven't had a real conversation since and I've barely seen him. When we do run into each other, it's awkward and strained, even now.

And that's okay. Because five years ago, he dropped me for a better life. And three years ago, I dropped his memory and the hope that he'd return to my life so I could focus on what I had. I was happy without his weight.

What cracks me up now, though, is that he's a total deadbeat. This sounds so wrong and terrible, but it's almost like I beat him in the long run.

Five years ago, I was pining after him. But five years from now, I will be a pharmacist. Ten years from now, I will be living the American Dream with a beautiful family in a blue house with a white picket fence.

And he won't have moved an inch.  He'll still be stuck in a dead end job trying to figure out who he is and what he wants to do.

He may have left me in the dust all that time ago, but I fucking won. And better than that, he lost.