Boys Will Be Boys

[Aura]

I used to hate family vacations. Ever since I was a little girl, my cousins would always pick on me. They'd push me down, call me ugly, make fun of me for things I didn't know. They always found every excuse to exclude me. Mom and dad always tried to cheer me up by buying me special toys and stuff, but it always burned me up inside that they didn't want anything to do with me. "What's wrong with me?" I always thought to myself. "Why don't they like me? Is it because I'm just a kid? Just a girl? But why do they have to be so mean about it?"

I remember crying to my parents about it. Mom would try to console me with pretty words. "They're just jealous of you," or dad would make excuses for them. "They're just trying to keep you safe, you'll get hurt if you play with them." But, there was more to it. There was always more they weren't telling me. I knew because I'd walk out the door and stop to listen. I'd hear mom tell dad he needs to talk to his brother about their behavior and he'd always brush her off.

"Boys will be boys." He'd always say. "Boys will be boys." It was the same excuse, over and over. "Boys will be boys." 

I hated boys. Boys were mean. They were rough. They were harsh. They called you names and made you feel like crap. And all throughout school, it was the same excuse. Over and over. It wasn't just my dad. It was a rule of society.

A boy spat on me and called me stupid in 3rd grade. "Boys will be boys," my teacher said after doing nothing more than telling him not to do it again.

The same boy pulled my hair at gym. "Boys will be boys," I heard the gym teacher say to himself. I swear he laughed when he saw it, too.

A boy grabbed my butt in the hallway in 6th grade. "Boys will be boys," I heard the principal say to the disciplinarian as I walked away after reporting him.

The same boy grabbed my chest on the bus ramp. I broke his nose and immediately got detention. I missed my bus and dad had to pick me up. I got a stern talking to about fighting.

"That's no reason to start a fight," he said as I explained what happened. "You're lucky. If you were a boy he would've hit you back." "Boys will be boys," I suppose.

"It means he likes you," is something my mom once said to me. In regards to that boy in 3rd grade. I was so confused. If he liked me why would he spit on me and pull my hair? It just made me want to stay away from him. And then that boy in 6th grade. Did he like me too? Was he making fun of me? I hated him, though. I didn't want him anywhere near me. I hated all boys. I just wanted them to stay away from me.

"Why are you such a bitch?" I had an upper classman ask me my freshman year of highschool when I told him to leave me alone because I hate boys. I didn't reply but I knew my answer. Because Boys will be boys.

After a while, I had to stop hanging around other girls, too. It seemed like none of them shared my same hatred of boys. It was like it was all they could talk about. They started to get boyfriends, they'd bring them around and I just... hated it. I'd catch their eyes and swear they were staring at me, eyeing me up. It made my skin crawl. I couldn't be around it. Even when they were complaining about things their boyfriends did that they didn't like, I was suddenly in the wrong for voicing that those issues were exactly why I didn't want a boyfriend. As if somehow I was less of a girl because I didn't like boys.

Before I knew it, I didn't have any friends. I didn't want to be in any clubs, extracurriculars, nothing. It was always because of boys, boys, boys.

But, sophomore year, something seemed to change. There was this guy, he wasn't like other guys. He was a lot like me, actually. He sat alone at lunch, he trailed off on his own in the halls. There was always an air of bitter frustration and lonely sadness surrounding him. He wasn't particularly attractive or anything, but... he was like me. I remember he told me one day something no boy had ever told me before.

"I think you're pretty," it was a simple phrase, but it completely caught me off guard. I couldn't believe that a boy had said something so simple to me and it got me blushing like an idiot. "You're not like other girls. You don't worry so much about what people think." It completely changed my mood for the rest of the day. I went home giggling to myself the exact same way those other girls would. I didn't know it yet, but I guess he wanted more than that. I didn't know, I really didn't. How was I supposed to? What was I supposed to do?

I don't know what happened, but he started to seem cold toward me, too. I was so confused. I didn't even know what I wanted him to do. I guess I wanted him to surprise me again. But all I got was nothing but cold air between us. I remember reaching out to him.

"Is everything okay?" 

"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine."

It was so confusing. His voice was cold. "Did... I do something wrong?"

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" He just rolled his eyes. I couldn't understand. Why was he being so cold?

"It just means he likes you." was the voice I heard echo in my head. I think I finally understood... but it was weird. He was the closest thing to a friend I'd had in over a year. I actually enjoyed spending time with him. I didn't want to lose him over some stupid misunderstanding. But I didn't like him... not... y'know, like that... Is that what he wanted? I could feel my heart sink. How could I be so dumb? I should've known this would happen. Boys will be boys.

"Fine." I remember stomping off and making a scene in front of him. It was dumb. Maybe I wanted him to grab me by the arm and apologize or something... I didn't want to be right. But once I was out of sight, I just made my way to the bathroom and cried. I thought he wasn't like other boys.

What was even dumber than my little show was when I texted him that night. I told him I was sorry, that I didn't mean to hurt him. I didn't even know what I was apologizing for. He told me it was okay. I thought that would be it, things would be better, but then he just kept talking... he told me again that he still thought I was pretty. He went on about how most girls caked on makeup... I told him I wear makeup, too. He seemed surprised but explained that he meant that I didn't wear too much. He also added that most girls were rude and dismissive to him. I felt like things were getting better again, I could relate to that. I told him how I felt with boys throughout my life and he agreed that those guys were assholes but he told me that not all guys were like them, that he was different. I believed him.

And then, things quickly went south. He started texting me more frequently throughout the days, telling me I was always on his mind, reminding me that I was beautiful, doing all the things a... boyfriend would do. One day, he tried to kiss me. I was confused again, but I probably shouldn't have been. I just didn't want that. I thought I'd made that clear but I guess I never said it. I didn't kiss him and made up an excuse about how I wasn't ready. He started texting me more frequently. I kept coming up with excuses. He got frustrated when I didn't reply. One day, he was absent from school and told me he was sick and had to stay home. I was strangely relieved. I told him I couldn't talk after school because I would be busy on a project. The project was made-up, but I thought it was a functional enough excuse. I really just wanted some time away from him. But when I got off the bus at my neighborhood, I was shocked to find him standing there. My face went pale and I didn't even want to get off the bus. The other students got impatient and pushed me forward.

It was that feeling like you've just been caught red-handed doing something your parents told you not to do. I didn't understand why I felt this way, but he was furious with me. He yelled at me and I couldn't say anything to defend myself. I knew I was being a terrible person to him. I was adding lies on top of lies to avoid him day after day. He was far more hurt than I was. I could hear his voice cracking when he told me that I was his only friend and I couldn't come up with an explanation for why I felt the way I did. I tried to lay it out as plainly as I could, but he just accused me of lying still. He knew we were perfect for each other. He knew I had to be his girlfriend.

I didn't want to go home. He would follow me. So we just stood there at the bus stop, I just listened to him scold me and lecture me about everything I had been doing wrong and how much I'd hurt him. Not once did I stand up for myself. Not once did I yell back or tell him to back off. All I knew is that I'd been a terrible person, he told me that he was wrong that I wasn't like other girls. He revoked so many of the compliments he'd given me. And for the first time in my life, I cared. I felt distraught. Finally, I told him I was sorry, I begged for his forgiveness. I needed him to think I was pretty. I needed him to think I wasn't like other girls. I had never felt this way about a boy in my life. Maybe... maybe this was what love was? He moved in to kiss me but I felt nothing. He told me he forgave me. That he loved me and that he'd protect me and make sure that I was safe from all those horrible boys... but it didn't sound liberating. His kiss felt forceful. Aggressive, controlling... I'd never kissed a boy so I had no idea what to expect. Maybe this is just what a kiss was like.

He wouldn't leave me alone. We stood at the bus stop all day. My dad texted me and asked me where I was. He was watching so I couldn't just ask for help. I told him I was with a friend and I'd be home late. I still didn't want to lead this boy to my house. He kept insisting that he didn't want to go home, that he wanted to spend every waking moment with me because he knew it was a rare opportunity. He kept kissing me, kept touching me, kept pulling me in for hugs... he was so happy, I wanted to gut myself for not feeling anything positive... As the sunlight started to fade, he insisted that I come with him to his place, but I told him I had chores that I needed to get done and if I didn't do them I'd probably be grounded. Perhaps he realized that would mean I wouldn't be able to text with him, so he finally let me go. I didn't get home until 2 in the morning and got a harsh lecture from my dad. I told him I lost track of time and my phone ran out of battery. He didn't even know who I was with and had already accused me of staying out late with a boy. I felt humiliated but couldn't say anything to my defense. He told me I should never be out with a boy so late and that I'd just end up pregnant. I didn't want to try to fight back. He'd only get more angry, so I just went to sleep.

More text messages. More long talks. This boy would follow me everywhere he could. It was impossible to get away from him. At one point, he asked why I wouldn't just let him walk me home and I told him it was because my dad would kill him. Of course, I knew it would be me who got in trouble. This boy could do anything he wants with me and it would still be my fault because "Boys will be boys".

Slowly but surely, this boy started integrating himself into more and more areas of my life. When I got a part-time job at a local supermarket, he was a daily customer. Somehow, he got my address and sent me gifts in the mail. He even got gifts for my parents and my little sister. They all kept telling me how much they liked him and asked me why he's not my boyfriend yet. But not one of them considered how I felt. I was starting to see his face everywhere. Every boy who walked into the market made me double take to see if it was him or not. Every car that passed me on the road, I thought was his. I'd see cars drive by my house and freeze wondering if it was him. The scariest part was that it often was him, and it was happening more and more frequently. I remember nearly passing out when I saw him alone at my house with my little sister because my parents had asked him to pick her up from school and babysit. He was in our house and she was so excited. I wanted to scream but I had to pretend to be happy because I didn't want to make the poor girl feel bad... or hurt his feelings.

But the most twisted thing that really pushed me over the edge... was when my dad had organized a date night for us for our 'anniversary'. It was his gift for all the charitable stuff he'd done for me and my family. My dad had paid for everything upfront. A reservation at a restaurant and... a hotel room. Not once had I been asked how I felt about any of this. I didn't even know we had an anniversary. I thought we'd never been official!

But all the money had been spent. There was no going back. I was 18 now. My dad had handed me over to this boy I had no feelings for as a prize. A reward for good behavior. Even my mom thought this was a sweet gesture of him, and told me it was also an apology for him being so harsh on me.

Mom dressed me up, she was so excited that I was going on such an elaborate date. I hated the dress, I didn't want to go. But I couldn't say any of that. I was just being ungrateful. Dad had spent so much money on this and we were going to have such a good time.

The dinner didn't matter. Both of us knew what was happening after. He stared at me like a lion stalking its prey.

"You're nervous."

"N-no, I'm fine..."

"Don't do that." There it was again... but this time, I felt so much more scared than before...

"I don't know if I want this..."

"I'll be gentle, you know I won't hurt you."

"But... this is all so sudden..."

"It'll be nice and easy." No, it wouldn't! He wouldn't listen to me! Why did it feel like I was screaming into a void!?

"You wouldn't... if I said no, right?"

"Are you going to say no?" He put on a twisted look that I suppose was supposed to be seductive... but it seemed more intimidating. I bit my lip and looked down.

"You look so cute like that, you know." His hand reached around my lower chin. I didn't even know he had wormed his way around behind me already. "You know I won't do anything without consent." 

But I knew what would happen if I said no. He'd be angry. He'd probably hurt me or call me a bitch. He'd throw everything good he'd done for me and my family back in my face. And my parents would, too.

"Do you want me, Jessica?"

Hearing him say my name made me freeze as his hand groped my breast and his hips ground against my butt. He already knew the answer.

"Yes..."

And I knew, from the moment he took me without a condom. Nothing I said would matter. I couldn't complain, no action would be taken. He would rule over my life and I would be forever indebted to him. Everything bad would be my fault. After all,

"Boys will be boys."