Tales of a High School Singleton

Where does it come from, that horrible sense of worthlessness that accompanies being single in high school? Naturally, my self-esteem was measured against the most beautiful and wealthy girls in my high school. It also hinged on whether or not any boy paid attention to me. In retrospect, I should have simply relished the "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants" time afforded to me, but even those girls get boyfriends eventually. I had quality friends throughout high school, having left behind the angst of middle school cliques. The big high school experience allowed me to find a niche that went unnoticed by the popular group, or at the very least, those kids came to understand that the "advanced" academic students were going places in life. Even with marvelous friends to laugh, bond and "mature" with, we spent the bulk of our time focused on the opposite gender the mystery of relationships. I can recall one girl in my freshman class who dated a senior nearly all year long. She was one of the privileged few to attend prom, a privilege afforded to only juniors and seniors-- unless you were lucky enough to be asked by one. Hallie- that was her name- had a tanning bed in her home and was perpetually bronzed. She wasn't terribly bright, but she was cute, always wore the right thing, and was a very good basketball player who made the varsity team. I didn't have any of that on my resume. I was Asian and one of maybe 4 kids of color in my class of 450. I wasn't in sports and I never had more than maybe one name brand item in my closet. Life might have been ho-hum Hannah Montana Cheery if not for one thing: I was constantly crushing on some or a few different guys. For example, the junior skater/artist fellow who never spoke or the pretentious but keenly interesting editor of the literary arts magazine. There was always a drummer or two that caught my eye, the tenor saxophone section of 2 consisted of 2 very talented and smart boys.. the list went on and on. I didn't devote, or so my memory may deceive me, too many tears to my rarely expressed crush, but I'm sure I spoke and wrote of it too often and too tragically. I don't think it was until my junior year that I stumbled into my first boyfriend unexpectedly...