In high school, back in the 1980s, I was already the prototypical computer geek (even though home computers were relatively now).  As such, I was often the butt of jokes and the object of ridicule for the “beautiful people” and the athletes.  In one of my classes, I was seated behind an attractive girl.  I wanted to get to know her better, so I began talking with her. Unfortunately, this got the attention of those so-called “beautiful people”.  I knew where it would lead.  They would not be satisfied just ridiculing me or humiliating me in front of her.  They would abuse her, too.  I was sure of that. I genuinely liked her and I didn’t want to put her through what I’d been through.  You can call what happened next an act of cowardice, stupidity, or a twisted kind of heroism.  When they started grilling me about her, in front of her, I lied.  I said I was just talking to her, that I could never be romantically interested in her, that she wasn’t my type, that I didn’t think she was at all attractive, etc. I laid it on pretty thick, probably too thick.  They either bought into it or were satisfied that they’d managed to sabotage my chances with her, and they backed off.  Unfortunately, I’d managed to hurt, insult, and tactically nuke my chances with this particular young lady.  She hated me for years after that.  She probably still does, and if she does I can’t really blame her.  I’m still ashamed of the things I said that day, and it was over 20 years ago.  I thought I was doing the right thing at the time, saving her from the pain I’d been living with.  I wish I could take it back, wish I’d had the spine to stand up to them.   She didn’t deserve the things I said to her, and they weren’t true anyway.