The goofy grin on my face doesn't come often. However, I figure today must be an exception. Who am I kidding? Of course it is. It's my birthday for crying out loud.

With the silly smile perpetually, for now, in place, I exchange my now unnecessary books for my necessary ones at the Book Exchange Station, also known as my locker, and head to the bathroom. My mother is going to take Jess and me to the movies. I don't know why, seeing as I work there, but I suppose it doesn't really matter. What matters is that I'm going and that I'm going with a friend, my best friend. BEST friend. BEST FRIEND. BEST FRIEND. I really hope I'm driving that point home because what I'm seeing now as I stand solid and stationary a few steps into the bathroom, really, really leaves me wondering about this whole 'best friend' thing.

Trust, it's just so easy to manipulate, you know? Or perhaps you don't know. I didn't know, but now I do. I'm forced to. The two people I trust the most, apart from the bat-crazy members of my family of course, are: my boyfriend and my best friend.

Bah! To think, that those two people would just turn on me like this. What I see makes my heart sink down to whatever grime and creepy crawlies there are beneath the floors of this slum of a school. They break away, the two nervously conjuring up lies to feed me. I can see it in their eyes, the cheating bastards.

Now, for any of you girls out there, if this ever happens to you there is something you must – must – follow in order to maintain regalness and composure.

Keep your head held high and your heart closed. No exceptions.

Leave no room for crying or apologies. If the opponents in this war – in my case Jessica and Dan (we were supposed to get married and make babies!) – have anything to say, it can wait 'till later. For now just say something really mean and walk away.

But, sadly, at the moment I can't seem to think of any. My mind is at a blank. The shock of my world obscuring itself and reforming its known truths seem to be taking up all my neurons at the moment, please call back later. But I can't deal with this later. I need to deal with it now. But how am I supposed to?

I spit – something that was totally not taught to me by my very own mother (cough) – right across the room (I honestly didn't know I have such good aim) and onto Dan's face. How's that for payback? Better than any words could have done, I'd say.

Too disgusted and numbed to bother with it more, I turn on my heel and powerwalk all the way down the hall and outside into the empty courtyard. Why's it so quiet that I can hear them – them – trying to catch up to me? This is a school. It's supposed to be loud.

"Fay!" Jessica calls out. She's not even 'Jess' anymore. Nicknames are solely reserved for friends, not people like her. "Fay, it's not what you think!"

I spin, causing her to bump straight into me. "Oh, it's not? My boyfriend kissing my best friend is not what I think it is? Because honestly, I have no idea what else it could have been."

"Fay," this is Dan speaking now. He pulls me close as if he's about to kiss me. Bah! That incongruent, senseless, cantankerous piece of rotten apple has got to be kidding me. I loosen myself from his grip – strength is I! – and smack – not kiss smack, slap smack – him right across his ugly, disgusting face.

"Who do you think you are?" I think right about here I start tearing up. My time to get back to base is quickly running out, as well as my dwindling ammunition.

"I'm your b-boyfriend," he stutters. Yeah you better be unsure, profligate!

I raise my eyebrows. "Boyfriend my big arsenal! Boyfriends don't go around doing the smooch-smooch with other girls, dude." I don't need to worry about tears anymore; they've just simply evaporated from my eyes, like how Dan is currently evaporating from my life.

I spot Jessica in my peripheral. Bah! My nostrils flare. I feel like that teenage girl in the movies, the one that gets backstabbed and treated like a flimsy banana peel, only useful for a laugh, because she was stupid. And I feel so stupid right now – stupid for trusting these contemptible, repulsive members of humanity. I feel stupid for trusting. Well, so much for that.

The rage I feel inside me, both at myself and at them, needs to escape so I vociferate. But it does NOTHING! I feel as if even if I were to bawl like a baby, the intense ire I feel for myself just won't go away. And I feel like an idiot for feeling this way, and an idiot for letting myself get into such a cliché and confounding situation. I feel like an IDIOT!

Frustrated and flabbergasted (love that word), I march straight home, taking short cuts and side routes I never knew I knew about until I reach my destination, home.

"Mother," I growl as I spot her in her usual perch on a stool by the kitchen island, writing, "I vow my virginity," and then as an afterthought, "for life."