He said he was eighteen.
He said his daddy was rich.
He said Daddy bought him a Porsche.
He said he would take her to Italy, Switzerland, and France.
He said she was the prettiest girl he'd ever known.
He said she was the only one for him.
He said he loved her.
He said he wanted to marry her.
He said if she loved him, she'd let him.
She did love him. She did let him...once.
She'd just turned 15.
She said it wasn't as fun as everyone says.
She said it hurt.
She learned he does this repeatedly, regularly to other gullible girls.
He has no Porsche, no rich daddy, no passport, no class.
He's sixteen, and doesn't want to marry her.
She feels 'lied to and used.'
She wishes she 'could turn back time and erase it, like it never happened.'
She wanted to save herself for marriage.
She was fooled.
Her mom is disappointed, but understanding. After all, she'd done the same thing, pregnant at 16, married at 18. Divorced at 25.
Her mom says she won't drive her to that boy's house again, for a Saturday of unchaperoned movie watching.
Her mom patted her on on the head, and gave her birth control pills.
Her school friends, instead of putting her on a pedestal, shun her.
Her true friends love and console her the best we can.
She's lonely. She's sad. She's depressed.
She wants to die.
Me? I want to castrate the kid who abused our friend.