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crash Okay, finishing my stupid high school story from my earlier entry. So, Lindy and I became really good friends on the Europe trip, and I felt really bad that her boyfriend, my friend, Jason, kept saying he was in love with me everytime she would call him and then put me on the phone to say hi to him. We got back from Europe, and things went downhill for Lindy and Jason, but things with me and my boyfriend were cool. Lindy went away to Stanford that fall, and Jason stayed here at U of A, and I was still in high school, senior year. My senior year of high school was cool, I had never been more popular in my life. My boyfriend was SO sweet and nice, but I treated him like shit. I totally cheated on him, all of the time...not sex, because I hadn't done that yet, but I would kiss and make out with anyone who I thought was interesting at parties. He, of course, would hear rumors about that, and I completely lied to him and would turn it around..."WHY would you THINK that about me????" I was bad, that was so mean. It's hard for me to remember how mean I was to him. He was (and is) such a nice guy. Some of my good friends were older than me, Ralon, Jessica, Jason, Laurie, so they were in college. I would go to frat parties with them and lie about my age..."Oh yeah, I'm a sophomore here, majoring in English" and we thought it was funny as hell. I remember one night, Ralon and her sister Osena and I went to a party at this one frat house, and this guy and I went for a drive in my car (I mentioned before that I had a vintage Mercedes...he was all into driving it) and ended up back at his house, making out on his bed. I was kind of drunk, so I told him, "hey, my name isn't Chloe like I told you, and I'm 17" and he kind of freaked out. Jesus, looking back now...poor guy! I can't imagine how scary that must have been for him! Right before Graduation, in May, my friend Luisa and I were at a frat party, and we left there to go to a high school party. We were pretty drunk. I remember as we got into my car, we saw this girl drive into a street sign, and Luisa said, "shit, we better put on our seatbelts, lots of drunks out tonight." I never used my seatbelt then, and the Mercedes only had a lap belt, not a shoulder belt, but I clicked it on. We were driving up to this party in the foothills, and going through what used to be known as "Deadman's Curve" (it's all fixed and widened now) I lost control of the car and slammed into a big old Ranch gate. I remember looking up and seeing the hood of the car all mangled up. Another car pulled up beside us, and it was these two guys our age, and they were like, "Hey this is our Aunt's ranch!" And we were like, "Hey, can you get rid of these cups for us?" (Cups of beer from the frat party) and, thank God, they did. This old lady came out of the house on the ranch and started shrieking, "The horse is gonna get out!" and we were like, "Calm down, lady, it's fine" We went into her house to call the police, and her husband was lying on this bed with IV's and shit...Luisa and I were looking at each other like, oh man. The cops showed up, and we were looking at the mess. This one cop pulled me aside and was like, "How much have you had to drink tonight?" and I was like, "Nothing!" He said, "Look, kid, I know you've been drinking" so I started crying and was like, "I've had ONE beer, I SWEAR that's all!" and he was like, "ok, I'm going to let you off, because no-one was hurt and your dad is here to get you." That's when I saw my dad, and I started bawling my eyes out. He was so cool, he totally hugged me and was like, "It's okay, I'm just glad you are fine." He drove me home, in his 300ZX, and I was totally freaking, like "Mom is going to kill me" and he finally pulled over at this little shopping center near our house, and was like, "Ok, let's have a cigarette"...this was when I still was denying ever having smoked. So we sat and had a smoke, and he was like, "Kid, we're just thankful you are ok." It was cool. And when we got home, my mom just hugged me and said how happy she was that I was ok. Man, when the police called them, it must have been scary. My parents are cool. The next day, they didn't even give me shit about it. My boyfriend showed up at the house with flowers, and I thought he'd be so pissed at me. I remember saying to him, "YOU know I was drunk, right?" and he was like, "Yeah, but it's ok." A lot of people from my high school had been headed to that party, and I guess they saw my car crashed against that fence, and stopped to see what was going on, but the police told them to move on. When I went to school the following Monday, there was a rumor that I was dead. I broke a little bone in my left hand, that was it. And Luisa was fine. That's the end of my story for tonight. Miss These?
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