A Girl Called Whisper

Three

On Monday I spot her in the hall, the same spot where I saw her last time. Gangly legs, ebony hair scraped half-up. She's wearing tights and a giant hoodie that swamps her frame, little black leather boots grounding it all. I decide her locker must be in close proximity and make a mental note that when I need to find her, I should scout this part of the school first.

I want to speak with her about something 'normal, and remember the party she was invited to by the rugby boys. I'm pretty sure it's the same party I overheard some kids discussing on the bus this morning - apparently someone kicked a hole in a garden shed or something. It's an obvious topic of conversation which might even make it seem like I'm 'in the know' of the social calendar. I give myself a mental pat on the back for being so wily.

"Morning Whisper. How was the party at the weekend?"
"Very fucking funny. So you know too. Well done you, pat on the back. Fuck off, pervert!" she snaps at me, red faced and wild-eyed. She swings her bag onto her back aggressively and storms off, her leather boots stomping on the squeaky floor.

I clench and unclench my fists, my chest rising and falling quicker as I feel myself get hot and red. People heard, they're all turning and looking at me. They think I've done something wrong. They're staring at me. They're laughing at me. They're noticing me. Clench. Unclench. They know I've done something bad to upset her. But did I? Maybe I have, I'm so confused, but right now I just need to get out of here.

I stumble into the men's bathroom where I sit in a stall with my head in my hands and try to steady my panicked breathing. Clench, unclench. So many people were looking at me. My fringe is sticking to my forehead, sweat slick. Why did she have to shout at me? Everyone goddamn heard. They all think I'm a pervert. They all think I'm a pervert. They all think I'm a pervert. Pervert, pervert, goddamn pervert.

I want to text Prince, but he might get in trouble again. I need to speak to someone. I need advice. I need to calm down. I need to fix this. I need to run.

I've never fallen out with anybody before, definitely not a girl. Unless you count Bella, which I don't. What are people going to be saying about me? Pervert.

I need to see Suzie. Right now.

I rush through the corridors keeping my head down. Every sound I hear I'm convinced it's people speaking about me. I'm outside Suzie's office, my knee jiggling uncontrollably, hands wringing, fingers aching. I can't stop fidgeting and don't try to stop my knee bouncing because if I do my head will spin and I'll barf. I look down at the carpet and focus on a questionable-looking yellow stain and I breathe and I breathe and I breathe.

After what feels like ten thousand years, Suzie opens her door and lets a girl who looks like she's been crying out of her office. Before she's even finished her 'come back if you need to talk again' speech, I've stormed into the room like a rhino on heat, slamming the door behind me.

I start trying to explain but she does a downwards motion with her hands and tells me I'm speaking too quickly. "Deep breaths Cooper, and slow down. From the beginning again. S-l-o-w-l-y," she says gently, taking a seat behind her desk.

I know she wants me to sit down but I can't, so I pace around the room which is so small I only make it three strides before having to turn around and I start getting dizzy. Why is the goddamn room so small? Pervert.

"I asked this girl how her weekend was and she called me.. She called me a goddamn pervert and everyone was looking at me and I think everyone heard and they'll all be talking about it-" I ramble on and on and I go over the conversation word by word and the more I speak about it the dryer my mouth gets until I can taste imaginary vomit on my tongue.