My Teenage Dream Ended by Farrah Abraham

like everything was fine. I could tell by the looks on their faces what my guy friends were thinking: She’s letting Derek walk all over her again. It was like they felt sorry for me, but didn’t want to say anything to crush me more than I already was.
    I waited and waited. An hour went by. Everyone else was gone. Finally, I called him again.
    Me: “Derek where are you? You never called me back.”
    Him: “My mom came home and needed help. She’s getting a dishwasher.”
    Me: “Okay, so when can you come get me?”
    Him: “I don’t know.”
    Me: “Okay. But I’m waiting on you. You were supposed to come
    get me.”
    Him: “Can’t you call your dad?”
    Me: “No. I’m waiting for you . You already said you’d come get me. Just hurry up, please.”
    Another five minutes went by, then ten. I kept checking my phone. No missed calls. Finally, fifteen minutes later, I saw his car. He showed up like he had nothing to explain to me. He was totally silent. I knew he had been lying to me about where he’d been, though. Derek always got quiet when he was lying to me. First of all, his mom was never home before school let out. She would have been at work. Second, the next time I came over, there was no dishwasher in the kitchen.
    After that I started keeping count of every time Derek lied to me. I don’t know why, because I never confronted him or did anything about it. But I realized Derek hadn’t changed after all. He had just started living a double life. He was one person with me and another when he was with his buddies. He kept things hidden from me so I wouldn’t call him on his bad habits and force him to change. But I saw signs of what he was really up to all the time.
    The next day he told me he had to meet up with a friend for something, he didn’t say what. I went along with him. We met him at a gas station and Derek gave him whatever they had met up for. Then his friend called through the window, asking Derek if he wanted to come smoke a bong. I looked at Derek, wide-eyed. He rolled his eyes at his friend and rolled up the window. He didn’t say anything, just held my hand.
    I hated feeling like when he was with me he acted like he would never smoke weed or do drugs, but then when I wasn’t around he would allow himself to be pressured into making bad choices. I could always tell when he had been smoking weed before coming to see me. There were so many tip-offs: he’d have glazed eyes that he’d doused with eye drops, or he’d be chewing gum to hide the smell of his breath, or he’d stink like his sister’s girly shower gel, or have sprayed on a shit ton of cologne to mask the smell. You can’t really hide something like that from someone who sees you daily, and who used to do all of that stuff with you.
    Derek could sense that I was mad at him and that I was getting suspicious, so he tried to make it up to me. A couple of weeks later, he told me he got a new job at a restaurant down by the boatyard. I knew exactly which place he was talking about. It was an upscale restaurant on the riverfront, and I was very happy for him because it seemed like a great job.
    He said he wanted me to work with him, so we could be together more. He got me an interview with the manager after school one day and pretty soon I was working there too. I was happy about the job, but what really made me feel good was that I hoped if Derek and I spent more time together he would change back into the Derek I had fallen in love with.

LATE

    By the end of May school was out and summer vacation had finally begun. It was time for cheerleading camp, which was always the first week of June. I packed up my cheer camp clothes, plus extra socks, a bikini, and tampons. My period should have already come, but I figured it was running late.
    Derek and I hung out one last time the night before I left and we promised to call each other every evening while I was at camp.
    The bus ride to camp was tedious, but when we got to the University