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

Chapter Five

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» Masters of War by Bob Dylan

Chapter Five

The lunch hour began and I found myself sitting alone again. From the corner of my eye, I saw Kush move out with a bunch of boys. Patiently waiting for my chance, I ate my mother's homemade food while the other girls gave me a dirty look.

The cafeteria was soon buzzing with people. Kush was never alone. Perhaps, I might have to wait until the end.

However, when fifteen minutes were remaining and I still couldn't find him alone, I lost my patience. I wasn't used to such hostile eyes for no reason. I needed to act, even if these people won't stop shooting daggers at me through their eyes.

The next thing I knew, I was marching straight to his table. It never struck me that because the lunch hour was about to end, it was probably the worst time for a public encounter. He could completely reject my accusation — treat me the same way Sameer did. He could ask me to stop pretending any of this wasn't true, just like Sameer. He could break me down, take away my already broken soul. But none of this passed through my mind. Only anger did — anger that helplessly blamed him — anger that made me wish I could burn him with my eyes.

Maybe if at least one person would have understood me back then; if at least one kind soul had tried to know what the truth was, then they would have stopped me from taking this step and making a fool out of myself. If someone would have listened to me, they would have heard the screams of a fourteen year old girl being treated unfairly. If someone would have talked to me, I would have listened to the voice of a calm being — someone not driven by anger. But I didn't. No one was there, and I marched alone.

There resided an ineffable urge in me to go up to him and ask him to explain himself. To force him to give me reasons of why someone would do this to me. To yell at him until he finally spoke.

I shouldn't do that, but I wanted to.

Maybe I could. Nothing was at stake here. My reputation had already gone downhill. There was no way my situation could get worse. I was already called the school slut, already stared at by millions of people, already verbally abused by boys I barely knew by name or face. All my chances at having a normal high school life had been destroyed and nothing that Kush did now could destroy it further. My fairy tale had broken beyond repair. And the two boys responsible for this were sitting idly on their tables, engrossed in laughter, freely teasing their friends like they had no care in the world.

How could they? How could they sit about having fun when they had so brutally destroyed my enchanted fantasy? Did others' feelings not matter to them enough? Did their emotions mean nothing to them? How could they not care what results their actions yielded?

As I inched myself closer to the table, all the laughter died away. The jokes vanished in thin air. Half the table turned to look at me. Some elbowed their friends to look. Some looked everywhere but at me.

Kush, on the other hand, had no idea. Not until one of his friends patted him on the head to turn around. He did. And as soon as he did, all emotions let go of his face. A sudden blankness enveloped him.

"Hey Riddhika, hey," he said, looking at me blankly. He tried to smile, but stopped when I didn't return it. His fingers made strange motions in the air, until that same friend swatted them away.

"We need to talk," I told him curtly.

"Yes sure," he replied getting up from his place.

A realization struck me. If we left now to talk, we would be alone. Like, alone alone. It would be the first time in ages I'd do that. What if I said or did something inappropriate? What if he said something inappropriate? What if he touched me? I'd have boy germs on me! What if we talked and then he lied about what happened between us? What if...