My Heroine.

Let's get one thing straight. This story contains drug usage, and yes, I listen to a lot of rock and roll. But no, there is no sex.

Why you may ask? Because at the age of 17, I'm still a virgin. I'll admit that only because I'm proud(well obviously). Not many girls my age can admit that they'd kept their legs closed through out their hormonally driven teenage years. I, at this point, have known two girls around my age that have given birth to children, and one being pregnant at this moment in time. In fact, she's been pregnant 3 times now. To be blunt, she did only have sex with her boyfriends, but she was naive and stupid to believe the 'pull and pray' method would work.

An abortion, miscarriage, and pregnancy later, she's technically had 3 baby daddy's, and no babies had ever come out of her. But let's get back on topic and off later mentioned material.

To be completely honest, I'd never had a boyfriend. I'd never kissed a boy, not even the boy I'm chatting about in this ...biography I guess you could call it. I can say at this moment in time that I'm a, what I like to call, pansy. I've had many, many opportunities to get the boy I wanted. I could have kissed a boy by now. I probably could be like all those other sex driven teenagers I know. The ones that could discuss all the gory details and compare them to their own lustful stories.

Question is, would I really be ready for sex if I still find the idea of semen touching me absolutely repulsing? Yes or no, either way, I'd still be thinking about the thousands of tiny squirmy things that would be swimming around my vagina and uterus. I'd also heard that condoms were uncomfortable and like sticking a balloon up your vajayjay. Not to mention the awkwardness of it, well, at least for the first time.

My mind is still immature in that department, but my curiosity has still grown. Even if it was something I felt was weird, I wanted to know what it was like.

I still have many months until graduation, you never know.

The years I went through grade's nine and ten were uneventful. I'd gained a new friend, Anna, who liked to stay inside most of the time. She played video games and got me obsessed with anime. We'd sit around her dial-up computer, reading the latest Naruto update, drinking Coke and munching on candy and chips. Although I was already a hermit before I knew her, any desire I had to be outside died out, resulting in me becoming ghostly pale.

I died my hair black once more before I decided to let it grow out. I'd thrown some red in the roots a couple times, trying to make the growing out process look less bronzed. For some odd reason, my roots had turned bronze behind my chemically processed fake black hair. Trust me, I really had no idea how it happened. But it did. At least it gave me a base color to work off of.

At this time, I'd figured out I liked cutting my friends hair and dying it. My future career path had been chosen.

Expect me to be opening a famous salon soon.

"Frank!"

My blue eyes twinkled, my excitement extremely present upon spotting him. Walking along the tracks(the name given to the train tracks in the small town my school resides in, fitting, I know), was Frank and his friends, carrying what looked to be pieces of a drum kit. In between his outstretched, scrawny arms, was a large bass drum.

Frank may have been a distance away from me, sitting on a swing in the park that bordered the tracks, but I could tell he had heard my holler. Soon enough he was walking towards me. I decided to make his life easier and ran towards him, feeling bad that he had to walk with that heavy object in the blistering heat. It was nearing the end of June, our school exams either approaching or we were enduring them. I couldn't remember.

"Where are you guys going?" I asked him, eyeing the group of boys, each holding different pieces.

"Brad's. We're going to drop this kit off. You can come if you want, but you gotta carry something." Unexpectedly, a pedal was placed in my hands. I looked down at it, raising an eyebrow. It was extremely light, and I didn't understand how someone thought it was a burden to carry, but I shrugged and waved Anna over to follow us.

Wearing a black HIM t-shirt was definitely something I should not have done, especially paired with a pair of black pants. The heat made me sweat excessively, seeing as my body has some grudge against me and sweats easily enough as it is. My bangs were plastered to my face and I found myself pushing them back or behind my ears every few minutes. The boys were ahead, talking amongst themselves, not paying attention to us. Anna walked beside me, silently. She didn't look upset or like she was moping, so I didn't feel the need to start conversation.

The walk was short, and eventually the group hopped over a fence, one by one. Anna and I decided that hopping that fence was something we did not want to try, so instead we stood on the other side, conversing(barely) with Frank from the other side.

On of his friends returned, holding a purple cylindrical thing with a ball type thing on the bottom of it. Now, let me tell you now, at this point in my life, I hadn't tried drugs, seen them in person, or seen what people used to smoke them. That object was foreign to me, but a nagging in the back of my head told me exactly what it was. There, now in Frank's hand was a bong.

I knew he did that stuff, but I couldn't help but find it strange. I looked to the ground from the other side of the fence as he put a lighter to the bowl and lit the drug, pulling it up into the device and taking a hit. The bubbling sound it made made me giggle. That was the infamous "bong sound" that Anna was always making with her drinks in her mouth. Anna hadn't used one of those before, but her sister had.

Wanting to rid myself of any weird feeling, I pulled out one of my few stolen cigarettes that were left. When my father still smoked, he got bags of smokes from the natives on reserves. It was illegal, and compared to quality nicotine, natives were nothing but a quick burning fog machine. If you've ever had one, or the ones I had, it didn't take much of a haul for a large amount of smoke to exit once you exhaled. I'd started smoking that year, in April I think, and that was all I'd known at that point.

Once I got the cigarette lit, pulling the calming nicotine inside of my lungs, Frank's voice startled me.

"Amy? Smoking?" A pause made me cringe, slowly letting my body turn to face him. Frank's body was pressed against the fence. The drug was taking effect already. He was a lightweight I'd heard previously.

"I love you even more now!" He exclaimed, hopping over the fence to our side. Quickly his body attached itself to mine. He stood there, rocking me back in forth for a good minute, praising my new habit. He then moved on to hugging Anna goodbye once we declared that we didn't want any of their drugs and that Anna wanted to go to Dairy Queen.

I went to turn to leave, taking another haul of my smoke, before I was turned around by someones hands. Frank gave me no time to speak before I was stuck in his arms once more(not that I was complaining). He pulled away momentarily, muttered something that sounded like ,"Fuck it", and kissed me on my cheek. I couldn't help but freak out at the fact that his lips were so close to mine. Those darn butterflies started acting up, letting their newly freed wings flutter, ticking my insides.

Anna stared at me, smirk on her face as Frank jumped over the fence once more and started yelling about how much he loved the both of us. We waved, walking quickly down the tracks and turning into a park.

"He kissed me on the fucking cheek Anna!"

Anna laughed loudly. She'd probably been waiting for me to start spazzing. I let my hand reach up to touch where his lips once were. It was cliche, but it felt right. A smile lit up my face. I took another drag of my almost forgotten cancer stick before yelling out loud, dancing around in my happiness.

It was then I realized how strong my feelings were for that kid. It was then he had grabbed my heart and had slowly started to rip it out of me, taking possession of my heart and mind. For then, he hadn't gotten it all, only pieces.

Sometimes I wish it had stayed that way. Frank would have just slowly left my life, or would have moved, or something so that I wouldn't have to endure the confusion and hurt. But meeting him, knowing him, becoming close to him has all taught me a good lesson.

Stay away from drugged up, tool faced, drunken fools. Especially if they were still in high school and were loved by all the girls your age. They've only won the love of all those girls because they're "bad ass" or they've screwed him.

No matter how much you felt a connection. No matter how much you thought helovedliked you back.

Then again, that may just be my pessimism coming to play.