“Right,” my mom says, taking a sip of her coffee. The song he chose for his profile is “Let’s All Get Drunk Tonight” by Afroman.
Although why some girl would want to date Jordan based on his MySpace page is beyond me. “It was MySpace.” No one hangs out in chat rooms anymore. Nor do I know the habits of Internet chat rooms.” “How was I supposed to know he was going to break up with you? I’m not psychic. “Oh, please,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You should have known this was a horrible idea.” I’m hoping to lay a guilt trip on her, but she’s not having it. I mean, what was I thinking? Making plans to drive over a thousand miles to college with a boy months before we were supposed to go? Everyone knows the average high school relationship is shorter than an episode of TRL. They’re obviously insane to have agreed to this plan in the first place. My parents are supposed to be the voices of reason, steering me on the right path at all times. “So?” That’s her big justification for calling me ridiculous? Is she kidding? Teenagers beg and beg for stuff all the time-nose rings, tattoos that say “Badass.” Never a good idea. “Courtney, you begged and begged to go on this trip,” my mom says. Otherwise, he just met some girl he liked better, and it’s not as dramatic. In my mind, I still think of him as being a cheater. Although I suppose technically he isn’t a cheater, because he broke up with me before he started dating the Internet girl. Which means you’re a cheater.” Like Jordan. “It’s like if someone says ‘You’re acting like a cheater,’ it’s because you’re cheating. “There’s really no difference,” I tell her.
“I didn’t say you were ridiculous,” my mom says. Not to mention what was HE thinking? An eighteen-year-old guy who could have any girl he wanted, having to resort to Internet dating? But maybe that’s the problem with guys who can have any girl they want. I mean, scamming on guys on the Internet? I thought that was only for forty-year-old divorcées who Photoshop their pictures in an effort to appear younger and thinner. Although I really can’t say I know for a fact that she’s a slut. “I’m ridiculous? I’m ridiculous?” How can she say that? Has she lost her mind? It’s so completely not ridiculous to be upset about going on a trip with your ex-boyfriend, when said ex-boyfriend broke your heart and left you stranded for some Internet slut. “In fact, you’re acting a little bit ridiculous.” “You’re going to be fine,” my mom says, stirring her coffee at the sink. “I Built My Life Around a Boy! And Now I Regret It!” Of course, it doesn’t pack the emotional punch as some of their previous stories, i.e., “I Got An STD Without Having Sex” but it’s important nonetheless. I should totally be one of those true life stories in Seventeen. All we hear about these days is being strong women and standing up for ourselves, and now look what I’ve done.
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