I Didn't Come Here to Make Friends Read Online Free PDF

stupid. “I got the brains and Court got the beauty” was her mantra. It always bothered me because I knew I was smarter than my grades made it seem. I was just totally lost when it came to school. Unlike a lot of kids, I had no clue what I wanted to be when I grew up. I didn’t even think I could be anything because I was so bad at school.
    One time, after getting frustrated studying, I sat on the patio with my dad and cried. “You’ll be okay,” he’d say. “You can always be a model.” I thought he was just being nice and cried harder. With my flat chest, baggy boy clothes, and broken nose—courtesy of a kick to the face from my sister’s handstand in fourth grade—I never really felt that attractive. Puberty wasn’t very kind to me.
    Frustrated sexually and academically (who am I kidding, I didn’t give a shit about school back then), I felt like a big loser. But I was desperate to be in love, like all of those couples I watched on TV. It came to a turning point during the summer before senior year when I finally turned eighteen. Sara invited me to her family’s lake house in Michigan, where, after sharing several cigarettes (remember, this is the daughter of a doctor), she confessed that she’d been lying to me. She wasn’t a virgin. She and her boyfriend had been boinking for the last two years! Feeling envious and like a lame goody-goody, I vowed right then in my mind that as soon as I got back to Arizona, I was going to ho it up like it’d never been ho’d before. Enough was enough already! But first I needed some tutoring, because I was miles behind my classmates and, apparently, that little horndog Sara.
    I decided that my kissing instructor would be Ryan, who I’d never stopped liking but who had moved on to girls who were more experienced. I started dragging him into corners and bathrooms at parties. He had greatly improved his make out skills and happily showed me the ropes. As word got out that I was shedding my nun’s habit, my other guy friends started making ethically questionable moves on me. Ryan’s best friend, Cole, threw him under the bus and told me that Ryan didn’t like me anymore. Because Cole looked like a blond Adonis I chose to believe him (I always had a thing for blonds, excluding David Hasselhoff). Plus, I was a sexually liberated woman now; I couldn’t belong to just one man.
    I was ready to go to the next level with Cole, so I asked him to teach me how to give a blow job. He quickly and eagerly agreed to be my mentor. One night, we snuck onto a golf course and he instructed me how to use my already cramped hand, and how not to use my teeth. The golf course became our go-to spot for many future fellatio-fests. I understand why Tiger Woods liked to sink his balls in so many holes. Golf isn’t boring. It’s sexy!
    On the way home from one of my dates with Cole, I pulled up to a stoplight, lost in thought. A truck with two guys in it backed up to check me out. I glanced over and the driver was a blond, blue-eyed surfer boy. And, at this point in my life, he was the best-looking guy I’d ever seen. He was God’s gift to women and the world. It was love at first sight.
    “Hey, where ya going?” he said.
    “Home?” I answered coyly.
    “We’re going to P. F. Chang’s. Wanna come?”
    “What school do you go to?” I asked.
    “Camelback.”
    Camelback was on the wrong side of the tracks in Scottsdale.
    “What are you doing all the way over here?”
    “Where do you go?” he said, kind of offended.
    “Arcadia.”
    “Of course, that’s where all the pretty girls go.”
    With that, he peeled off into the night and I worried I’d never see him again. Instead, I kept running into this same guy all over town at parties, the gym, and the Fashion Square mall. I found out his name was Chris, star of the Camelback basketball team, originally from Maui. Once, at the gym, I left him one of my signature notes with my number and this message on his windshield: “You’re