Confessions of A School Slut: A Story about Slut-Shaming ✓

Chapter One

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 » Song Beneath The Song by Maria Taylor
» Death by White Lies

Chapter One

The ring of an alarm. A deep breath. Ignorance of the ball of anxiety curled up in the stomach. The final opening of the eyes. And that's how the day began.

It was the 4th of April, almost seven years ago from today. My birthday was to arrive in an exact week. However, that wasn't what made the day different. What made the day different was that it was the first day of high school. And I was scared.

More than three months prior to this day, I had decided to switch from a convent school to a co-ed one. It wasn't an easy decision to make — took me days, nay months — to get my mind slightly inclined toward the idea. And yet, even after this long while, I was unable to get it excited about the prospect.

Like every other teenage girl, I had heard stories about high school from my elder brothers and sisters. Their constant words about incidents that happened with them helped me imagine this perfect place where no harm could ever come to me. It was the real fairy tale, the enchanted fantasy I could have once I turned fourteen.

Months before I crossed off the one particular date on the calendar that would signify my first day at Riviera High, I would sit on minutes at end and fantasize about my perfect high school story. Every one of them was different, and yet, each one of them had a few similarities. Every single one began with me being the sweetest Miss-Popular, having two to three amazing friends who would stick by me through thick or thin, being respected by everyone I knew and didn't know, for being a good person and ending with me finally meeting the Prince Charming of the story — who was more often than not, a member of the basketball team, if not the Captain.

I had no idea what the future had in hold for me; no inkling if any of those stories would come true — or if they ever could. But I held hope close to my heart, and that helped me dream on.

When I filled in my application, I was not sure if I was making the right decision. I had to switch schools, but should I choose one that admitted boys, too? I would be leaving all of my comfort zones to study here. Was that the right thing to do, then? But Riviera High was the best school of the area. Thus, I had no choice; Riviera High it was.

That morning when I woke up, I was engrossed in deep anticipation. It was going to be a new day, a new place, and lots of new people. I had no idea if I could cope with so much new in my life all of a sudden. I didn't know anyone around. Or, maybe I did. Two of my neighbours studied in the same school, one friend from an old school, and a cousin — all of who belonged to my grade; none of who I was close to, not enough to rely on them anyway. Perhaps, if I knew even one of them properly, that would have helped me get through my first week in this foreign land, but I didn't. It didn't help matters that here was a grade that had more than hundreds of students enrolled in it anyway.

Thus, every time I thought about how this day would begin, I always envisioned myself alone. The fear of not fitting in constantly gripped my insides and I would often find myself sweating —even in the middle of the day. It didn't help that I had no clue as to how boys behaved in their adolescence. The only ones that I had met lived in some novel or movie, and almost all of them were jerks. I had no idea how they were in real life. To go and study in such a place was a challenge. I was leaving all of my comfort zones and joining a co-ed school. My stomach was rumbling with anticipation, my mind was tumbling with unlikely expectations.

There wasn't an inkling in my mind about what kind of girls resided in the area either, or who were the ones who would study in my classroom. The girls that I had encountered in my boarding school were good and happy to get along with people, and so I tried to be cheerful about that idea. At least. But a dark feeling nagged at the pit of my heart, constantly reminding me that in this new place, I may not be liked by less than half the population.