Every girl in the universe that has ever has sex always tells their friends about how they ‘gave up’ their virginity to him. In my case, I don’t really feel that this would be an accurate portrayal of the events surrounding my deflowering. My classmates were always talking about how  they did ‘this’ with their boyfriend, and how they wished they could do ‘that’ the next weekend when their parents were out of town. Then, the conversation would somehow always manage to turn to focus on me. I don’t know why, I don’t know how, but it never seemed to matter how hard I tried to stay away from such conversations, I always became the hot topic to discuss.

“Oh, there goes that prude,” one girl yelled as she pointed her finger directly at me with a disgusting look on her face. The other students looked at me and laughed. I had always been told that  it was better to wait to do stuff like that, but these girls seemed to think exactly the opposite. Sure, I dated, but it never got that far.

One day, when the poking and name calling had been especially cruel, I decided that I would prove them wrong. I took my boyfriend of only three weeks and ‘gave him’ my virginity. Well, to be honest, I threw it away. I didn’t want to hand over my precious jewel to him, but that’s exactly what I did. I just tossed it out like a rotten apple I no longer wanted, even though I was something I held so dear.

I did it for them. I became what they wanted me to be. Now, they call me by a different set of names; slut, skank and whore. I wish I never would have done it. Now, I can’t even get a date with an honest guy. I would rather be the school prude, for it is a much nicer word than those I hear daily now.