ns18.104.22.168da2Everyone loves a good morning text from a best friend, boyfriend, girlfriend, or whoever makes you light up when you talk to them. That was not the case for me on March 17th, 2017. It was spring break the day after one of my best friends Rach and I had hung out at a strip mall. I ended up spending $130 dollars that day on makeup in a Sephora. Half of that was for Rach's birthday day present I owed her still back from January where our birthdays are a day apart. Besides Olive, Rach was another best friend and we were a trio and it was obvious to everyone who knew us too. She helped me pick out thongs because my boyfriend was coming over that night. I can't help but think if I hadn't muted a groupchat with 13 girls in all I would've seen that text that may have not ruined my 8th grade year but it did. But please understand I firmly believe things happen for reasons we may not know at the time. When we came back from shopping we hung out for 20 more minutes at my place before Rach left. As soon as she left I showered and got ready for my boyfriend to come over and well.... I'll let you guys guess. At age 14 hormones are raging we can't help it, my therapist even tells me that. That night I gave my very blow job to my very first boyfriend of 4 months. But right now that doesn't matter but what does matter is betrayal of a best friend you've had for 7 years. Rach and I both equally can be called whores if that's what you choose or maybe you prefer a word stronger than that like Skank maybe or whatever people like to say. Why? Because we told each other everything, we told each other our first kiss, our first sexual experiences and she had done the same, so why she betrayed me I still don't know and I don't think I ever will. I could've prevented that night stopping it from the moment I handed the money over to buy the thongs, to how she knew I was hanging out with him, to the text I sent to tell her how it went that night. But that's what teenage girls do we are curious and we are backstabbing bitches, and that's all we ever will be because hormones and drama will at least get the better of all of us some point and time. So what was the good morning text? Did you forget there was one? Well it was sent out to me at 2 a.m. under Rach's contact in a basement of a house filled with 12 girls, in a neighborhood across from mine. And what did I choose to do that night? I stayed home with my boyfriend and made poor choices, when I could've been with the 12 backstabbing bitches. When I first read it I thought it was a joke considering I hung out with her less than 24 hours ago but it wasn't a joke. She was mad, she wanted to get back at me, she didn't tell me why, she didn't tell me how, and I didn't know what I did. I sat on my bed frustrated and my throat clenched tight. In a groupchat on snapchat that day people joked and taunted about making dick sucking jokes, and I assumed the worst but I assumed right. She turned 12 girls against me and told me everyone was done with me she was just the last one to put up with my shit. Instagram accounts for ranting had about 3 post about me each. That text I sent to Rach on how that night went filtered from one person to another over a 3 day weekend. But guess who was one of the 12 girls? Olive who helped behind it.