I, Rosalina DiMeco, was a sophomore at Amigos High school. Like all teenagers, I had quite a story to tell.
When I was still in middle school, I joined a band with Nat Wolff. At the time, I knew he had a big crush on me, but I had expected it to simply fade away as all crushes did in middle school. I shrugged off every gesture he ever made that showed he wanted us to be more than friends. Because I was two years older than he was and would be going into high school soon, I often felt very hesitant about getting into a relationship with him.
Time went on. We got famous because of the songs Nat wrote. Of course, I felt it a bit strange to get famous singing love songs written about myself, but I never regretted my decision to join the Naked Brothers Band. There had never been a time that I had more alive than when I was standing on stage, bass in hand, a sea of people in front of me, and my best friends beside me singing. It was the only life I knew.
But that was the problem.
I had never truly lived a normal life. I never really lived a life without cameras everywhere, my name in lights, and my face in the papers. I never even had any real friends outside of the band.
Along came Richie Sheffield, who showed me a world outside of my own. Although neither of us lived normal lives, he showed me another side to fame and fortune, and how sometimes choosing a passion meant walking a road less travelled. Richie toured with bands whether they were famous or not, and did all the dirty work behind the scenes.
And he loved what he did as much I loved what I did.
He once told me that he had never seen me play without a smile on my face, and I couldn’t deny it. Music would always be a big part of my life.
However, my friendship with Richie placed me in an odd position. Our first encounter lead to a farfetched tale about him being my long-time, secret boyfriend. Once that rumor was dispelled, we ran into each other at school, literally. Ever since then, I had spent every non-band related moment with him.
Yet another problem arises. Nat and the guys were cool with me being friends with Richie and looked forward to meeting him, but they didn’t know that my new friend was the same boy that the headlines once said I was dating in secret. It was an easy lie to dispel at the time, but now that Richie and I were close, the suspicions could come back and never go away.
All of this was my fault, of course. I, Rosalina DiMeco, was a horrible person. I could not help but feel as though I was betraying Nat in some way. Even though I didn’t actually like him in any romantic way, I knew that he felt that way about me. No matter what I did, it felt like I was playing with his feelings.
A part of me knew that nothing would ever happen between us simply because Nat was too unsure of himself to make the first move. I had no intentions to make anything more of our friendship, so it was almost a guarantee that nothing would ever go on between us. However, there were times when I felt Nat was taking my actions in a way I didn’t intend him to.
Whether it was a night at prom or a meaningless kiss on the cheek, the guilt of misunderstanding would always be there.
Even when Richie wasn’t there, I thought about him. When I was talking or texting Richie, I was thinking about Nat. Even as the guys and I decided to spend our Friday night watching movies at Nat’s, I was thinking about how I would leave early to greet Richie when he returned. As I told Nat how I would be leaving at eight, I regretted not being able to stay all night. As we watched a movie I had already seen, I rested on Nat’s shoulder but looked forward to spending the rest of the night with Richie. I missed the days when things were simpler, and I only had one thing on my mind: the band. Then again, I couldn’t imagine what it would have been like if I didn’t meet Richie.
I, Rosalina DiMeco, was a liar, cheater, and traitor.
High school sucked.
