Peter and I were inseperable. We had lunch at the same time and would hang out at a park near school or in the Catholic Youth Ministry building. We both were co-editors of our high school literary magazine. I was President of the Future Writers Club and he was Vice President. We had our own secret club as well. Dare I say it, could this be love?

I did like him. I could never say the words that I really wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him. I think he knew. It was kind of an unspoken love. How could I have told him how I felt? He was a Catholic and definately not interested in becoming a Jehovah's Witness. He was not even supposed to be a consideration.

It was drilled in my head, you do not get involved in a relationship with a non-witness. We were not to be unevenly yoked. Dating alone was dangerous territory. If we were to date, it should be with another witness we are planning on marrying and we should be in mixed company while dating. Never be alone with him.

I just had to settle for the fact that we could be nothing more than just friends. I wanted so much to tell him how I felt, but I couldn't let it get that far. I longed to see what it would be like to have him kiss me. I wanted to hear him tell me how he felt. I just had to continue to lie to myself and to all who asked. We were just friends. We had to be.

My parents still wanted to go ahead with a move to Colorado, but there was a hitch. If they sold the house, it may not be until the middle of next year. I would disrupt my senior year with a move. I was given a choice. I could stay with the family or my sister and I could move to Colorado ahead of them.

Given the fact that I was still haunted by bad memories and my mom's unpredictable mood swings, I chose to move in summer. My mom was disappointed with my decision. She took it kind of personal like I did it to spite her. I rubbed it in her face that I couldn't wait to get away from her after she was constantly picking on me about how I can't do anything right and she wished I were never born. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. I lashed out at her. She slapped me and wouldn't speak to me for a week.

I have even done other daring things during the course of the year. I joined a school play which meant I needed to be at school after hours. I wasn't on the stage, but my sister was. I was a make up artist. I was so proud of my sister. She was where she should be, up in front of the crowd entertaining people. That was her dream. She was no longer afraid. She had completely turned away from the organization. I was scared for her, but very happy for her, too. If the world was going to end soon, at least she would die happy.

I was part of the International Fair at school. I was in two dance routines. Each of these routines were performed once every class period. I did a dance to represent Mexico with a group of students. I had to wear the representative costume to go with it. I was also a representative of France and that too was performed once every class period. I also had to dress up as a can-can dancer. As editor of the literary magazine, I also had to sell the magazines at a booth during the intermissions.

That fair was the greatest penacle of my school days. I actually got to perform for the whole school, several times. Yes, I had to rush through the costume changes and do a lot of running around. But I had so much fun. I felt free. I was almost possessed to keep up this pace. It was great. Many people who saw me at my magazine booth would by a copy and ask for my autograph. I almost wished that day would never end.

My teachers organized an after school skating party. My friend Peter went and asked me if I could go. I went to my father for permission to go to a school skating party, fully explaining to him that a lot of kids from school would be going together on a school bus with 10 teachers and we would be dropped off in front of the school at 11 that evening. He hesitated and then agreed.

Peter and I sat together on the bus. My sister was also there, too. She had her set of friends to pal around with. I was fixated to Peter the whole evening. I was not exactly a rollerskater, but I was willing to give it a go. I fell all over the place, ran into the wall a few times, and tripped over people, but by the end of the evening, I was even skating backwards. It was a great feeling skating while holding Peter's hand. He gave me the courage to do so much that year.

I even had the courage and the backbone to defend myself against a certain bully. She and her sister used to always pick on me. This girl is someone who I knew in seventh and eighth grade. Her sister teamed up to pick on me ever since we entered high school. Her sister was pretty dumb. She was left back twice. I had both of these girls in my P.E. class. They loved to harass me everyday. One day, they pushed the envelope too far. I was prepared for them. Little did they know, I was carrying a straight-edge razor which I fully intended on using on them. It was near the end of class. We were waiting for the bell to ring to get out of the gym. They teamed up on me as usual. All of a sudden, every single profanity hurled out of my mouth. I have never said any of those words my entire life until then. I think it stunned them. As I was about to lunge forth for the attack, another kid noticed the razor and held my hand back just in time for the teacher to break it up. Lucky for me the bell rang and I think I proved my point that I wasn't going to let anyone treat me that way anymore.

It was hard to say goodbye to my friends, especially Peter. I didn't move until about two weeks before school was to start. I spent a lot of the summer with Peter.

My mom let me have a going away party. I invited three of my closest friends, Peter included. It was hard to say goodbye, but eventually we had to. As they were leaving, Peter took me in his arms, hugged me and gave me a big kiss on the lips. No tongue action, but a sweet, firm kiss on the lips, in front of my mother.

I did not set foot in one meeting the whole summer. My mom would go every now and then, but my dad would support my decision not to go. During my last week at home, my mom made me remember my promise not to stray away from the truth and reccommended that I find a Kingdom Hall as soon as I got settled. I said I would if it would make her happy and I told her I loved her. For the first time, she said she loved me.