I had such a burr in my saddle about it that I didn’t tell her that Ricky and I had decided to elope right in the Bronson County Courthouse—and that’s how I wound up becoming Mrs. Ricky Greenway one Friday afternoon with Heather as my witness and no family around me. Ricky told me that his parents weren’t supportive either, but he was adamant that the two of us were going to prove the world wrong.
I wore a white dress I’d gotten at the local Dress Barn and Ricky wore khakis and a white button down. I cried when he handed me a small bouquet of three red roses—just like the single stems he used to give me, and a judge married us in less than five minutes.
That night, on the bed of a room at the Motel 6, I lost my virginity to my husband. It hurt like hell but I was so set on the fairytale that I didn’t care. Plus, it took less than three minutes from start to finish, so that was bearable. It didn’t get any better for me the second time that we made love that night, but Ricky’s grunts and groans signaled that he enjoyed it, and that was what mattered to me. I assured myself that it would get better once we had time to really get to know each other’s bodies.
The following morning I woke up to the sound of voices in the room. Opening my eyes, I found myself in the middle of my worst nightmare.
The room was full of Ricky’s friends—otherwise known as the people that had terrorized me during high school. All the offenders were there; Hank, Jeb, Frankie, Thomas, Ivan—and Ricky’s high school girlfriend, Rhonda. Of course she was the first person to notice that I was awake.
“Aw look—little miss white trash is awake. What’s up, Retardy? Thought you were too good for us didn’t you, ya little bitch? It was worth lettin’ my man fuck you just to have this moment right here. We done showed you!”
As she laughed she leaned into Ricky and he wrapped his arms around her. That was the moment that I realized that, once again, I’d been played by Small Towne. It had been two freaking years since we’d gotten out of high school and they hadn’t changed one bit. They were all still cruel, hateful and totally devoid of any decency. What had I fallen for?
Looking me dead in the eye, Ricky laughed darkly as he spelled it out for me. “I guess I gotta give you some credit for makin’ me work for that ugly snatch, but ya only proved you’re as dumb as ever. Everyone was in the other room listenin’ to your stupid ass cry when I busted that cherry.”
Turning to his friends, Ricky held out his hand. “Rhonda and I won the bet, fuckers. We told you this bitch would never learn, but you all said she wouldn’t fall for it! Pay up.”
I’m not being dramatic when I tell you that at that moment I was so sick that everything seemed to happen in slow motion. One by one Hank, Jeb, Thomas and Ivan opened their wallets and handed a bill to Ricky. It wasn’t until Frankie paid that I realized how much each of them had bet. He glared at me as he extracted a twenty-dollar bill, which he then slapped into Ricky’s hand. As he was sliding the wallet back into his pocket, Frankie gave me a look of disgust. “Can’t believe I bet that you wouldn’t fall for this shit. Ya just cost me a case of beer, moron.”
My body ached in places it never had before, my head was swimming, my stomach was churning and never in my entire life had I felt so stupid. It was one thing to call me names, egg my car and start rumors about me—but to marry me? I couldn’t believe anyone had that much hatred for me to do something so vile. What had I ever done to them to deserve being treated so terribly? Tears slid down my cheeks as I looked at Ricky. I prayed that I would wake up from the nightmare I was in. All I could think was that it couldn’t really be happening.
“You married me to win a bet?”
The room erupted in laughter that went on for several seconds. After the laughter died down, Ricky nodded. “Sure did. Gonna make you pay for the divorce though, and a divorce it’ll have to be seein’ as how I got up in your twat twice. No matter where you go or what you do, you’ll always remember me bein’ your first. Figure you owe me seein’ as how I had to pay for all our dates. This was an expensive bet—but it was worth every cent. You’re trash, Ardy Winger. Nothin’ but a stupid whore like your Momma.”
Rhonda let out a harsh laugh, followed by a snort. “You’re not even a pretty whore, fat ass.”
To this day, I can’t tell you what exactly snapped in my head at that moment—but it was huge and I swear to God I actually heard it happen. With no concern for the fact that I was naked, I sprang up from the bed and ran at Rhonda like I was the star Quarterback. I slammed into her so hard that I knew I’d be bruised, but I didn’t care. It took every single person in the room to pull me off of her, and while they struggled with me I pummeled the hell out of her face. By the time they got me off, she was a bloody and sobbing mess. When I saw the damage I’d done, I smiled.
I thought fast and the second I was on my feet and had the chance I kicked Ricky as hard as I could, dead center in the crotch. He went down screaming and crying like a little bitch, and I spat in his face while he was down as I dropped my foot down on his package a few more times.
By then everyone in the room was looking at me wide-eyed in absolute terror and honestly, they were right to be scared because I can’t be sure what would have happened if I’d had a weapon. The only reason I stopped kicking Ricky was because I wanted out. I barely remember getting dressed and gathering my things, but I do remember ripping my wedding dress in half before I walked to the door. No one said anything as they all stared at me wide eyed—Rhonda was bawling her eyes out and Ricky was still shaking on the floor as the rest of the gang tried to clean Rhonda up.
Turning on my heel, I glared at them all. “If you know what’s good for you, each and every one of you better stay the hell away from me. If you ever so much as breathe within one hundred miles of me, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”
I slammed the door so hard when I left that I swear I felt the shitty little motel shake. When I got to the parking lot, I realized that I had no car. I called my roommate Heather and begged for a ride. I cried most of the tears I had on Heather’s shoulder that afternoon. The rest I cried out when I called my mom and told her what happened. I have to give her credit for the fact that she never once said I told you so.
It was when she offered to come back that I realized that I was done being near Small Towne. I needed to escape, and I decided to take action. Three days later I said goodbye to Heather, got into my car, and headed for California.
Ricky Greenway didn’t just take my virginity—he destroyed my hopes and my dreams. He took my positive outlook on life and turned it into something dark. Where once I was hopeful, after that day in the Motel 6, I was as cynical as they come.
The only positive thing I can say about what happened that day in the hotel room is that I was able to get an annulment because what Ricky had done was fraud. Things are pretty shitty when being able to get an annulment is considered a positive.
I QUIETLY SURVEY THE crowd in the club with carefully concealed disdain. Places like this are nothing but glorified meat markets. Men look for the catch of the day while women lie to themselves and pretend that they’re going to find their dream man.
The whole thing is laughable, really. Mr. Right? Nothing but a fairytale that some poor fool created to give the masses false hope. Word of the mythical man spread and eventually it became Urban Legend. These days it’s presented as fact. He’s out there, somewhere, or, Someday soon my prince will come, women whisper hopefully.