Born Again

Sara was one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen. She was a year older than me. I still remember seeing her for the first time when I got to high school. Sometimes I wish that people are really as we imagine them to be.

Her boyfriend at the time was this kid named Dane. Sara was in the tenth grade and he had been out of high school for a year or two. He had a nice car with rims and subwoofers in the trunk so that you could hear him coming from a mile away. His windows were completely blacked out with tints and so each day as the rest of us piled onto the buses Sara would disappear into Dane’s tinted Dodge.

Sara had a friend named Holly. She was abnormally tall but insanely developed for a girl in the tenth grade. I can’t remember the specifics but Sara arranged for Holly and I to come to her house and get high together after school. Holly had a crush on me and so Sara took the liberty of arranging a social gathering outside of the confines of school. I was overwhelmed that Sara had talked to me and although I wasn’t that into Holly I accepted the invitation to know Sara.

Sara’s house was amazing. It was huge, farther east in the wealthy part of town and sat on a cul-de-sac with other houses that looked just like it. The grass was perfectly manicured and the interior was immaculate. This was the America that I saw on sitcoms. There was a paved basketball court off to the side of the house with an NBA-grade hoop that blew my mind. I rolled a joint and we got high on the court. We ended up in Sara’s bedroom. Holly took her shirt off and Sara told me to kiss her. Sara sat on the bed and we were on the floor. As Holly and I made out Sara watched us. She was close and I was happy with that.

By the time I was in tenth grade Sara and Dane had broken up. We were friends but nothing more than saying what’s up in the halls or getting high together at parties. She was my ultimate sexual being. She had the experience, she was calendar-beautiful and she was attainable. Sara preferred the older guys. One night I was hanging out with my friends Seth and Rob. They were probably 19 or 20 at the time. We left a party that evening and they called Sara on our way home. They referred to her by her last name which I hated. The way that people deliver us amongst each other is a fulfilling prophecy in itself.

Seth had a history with Sara. By this point a lot of guys had a history with her. Her parents were home so we parked on the street in front of her house. Sara came to the car wearing soccer shorts and a tank top. After some conversation Seth got out and disappeared with her into the distance. I was seething with jealousy. I wanted her. I wanted the two of us to be getting high on her basketball court. I wanted anything but her walking off into the night with someone who referred to her by her last name. Twenty minutes passed when Rob got out of the car and walked off. I didn’t think anything of it. I just wanted to be home at that point. I got out of the car and smoked a cigarette. They were nowhere in sight and so I walked in the direction of the night that hid them. Seth was in front her and Rob was behind. Sara was sandwiched between them with her shorts around her ankles and the tank top above her breast. Rob and Seth had their pants down. I stood and watched for a few moments trying to process my anger. Rob saw me and simply said “Get in on this man.” “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I said. I wanted to “get in on it.” I had always wanted Sara. But not like that. I wanted her to myself.

That following summer Sara was dating my best friend, Matt. He knew her past. We all did. We all had pasts though. There was a full week where I had sex with Sara at every opportunity that I had. Matt would go to the store and we would fuck in the bathroom or on the floor of his mom’s trailer. Matt found out and confronted me. He was mad for a week or so and then it passed. It was Sara. What did he expect? They broke up and that was that. I finally had her like the rest of them did.

Jess, one of the few friends that I keep in touch with from where I grew up, told me that Sara is now a born-again Christian living in California. She showed me her Facebook album with Sara’s “modeling” portfolio and faith-based quote posts. She’s no longer youthful but still pretty. I like that she is born again. I hope that she doesn’t think about her past at all. Perhaps the most important human survival tool is the ability to accept our past. I’ve seen so many friends unable to do so. Here’s to the courage to be born again.