And Then There Was Vince

Chapter 9: Rumors and Realization

Surprisingly, I didn't feel much dread heading into school on Wednesday. I think that most severe teenage feelings have a certain statute of limitations. After several days of feeling them intensely, you can no longer feel much of anything at all.

    I sat in the back of creative writing class that day, hoping social norms would keep Alex Ainsley in his unassigned seat far away from me, and Ashley even further. There was also possibly a part of me that wanted to sit closer to Vincent, the only light I'd seen in days.

    Alex still said hello to me when he entered, but never attempted to coax me out of my seat. I half-expected him to get closer, not really believing that he could have finally accepted my no.

    Ashley, Corinne and Mandy came in giggling, chattering just loudly enough to be heard by absolutely everyone in the vicinity.

    "I bet they went back there and fucked," Mandy offered.

    "On a stack of garbage no doubt," Corrine giggled.

    "If he even has a house," Ashley cackled.

    I was vaguely aware they were looking at me, directing those comments in my general direction. It didn't immediately register to me exactly to what they were referring.

    I remained ignorant for the rest of the daily procession, up until the point at which Vincent walked in. Just as his form appeared in the doorway Ashley gasped dramatically, and Eric let out a congratulatory whoop.

    Vincent stopped momentarily in confusion, looking around at everyone as he made his way to his seat.

    To my disappointment, he didn't sit right next to me, but left a desk between us for space.

    "How was it, Perino?" Eric inquired, leaving no hints for what Vincent was supposed to say.

    I had been catching on, though. Exactly what I'd worried would happen was happening. Someone had started a rumor about us, and the culprit wasn't a mystery.

    "Probably disappointing," Ashley mused, dragging a pink file over her fingernail. "Inexperienced, ugly and disappointing."

    I locked my gaze with Ashley's. Instead of feeling hurt that she was perpetuating this, I felt tired. Tired, and above all else, angry.   

    "Well, at least inexperienced from one end," She continued, popping gum in her mouth. "We all know the other involved is a bit of a whore."

    At that comment, I noticed Alex receiving slaps on the shoulder from other guys.

    "What do you mean, Ashley?" I sighed, apathetically.

    "Oh, Alex told us all what you did last week," She said. "And that you're starting a list. Sorry Vincey, but she really meant nothing by it. Hope you didn't like her too much."

    "Oh yeah?" I asked, directing my sight to Alex. "And what did I do last week, Alex?"

    He looked me in the eye when he answered, not ready to back down from the stage and certainly not about to expose himself in a lie.

    "You gave me a blowjob under the bleachers," He said. "You play hard to get around Ashley, but you practically begged me to let you do it."

    Ah. So that was the real story behind it.

    Alex WAS just like Ashley. Yet another beautiful person who would gleefully ruin the lives of others when theirs wasn't going quite the way they wanted. If I had the nerve to reject him, he would have the nerve to pin a scarlet letter on my back. It had nothing to do with Vince and I walking home together. That was just fuel to the fire.

    I rolled my eyes and sunk down in my chair, closing my senses off to all traffic.

    I wouldn't protest, unless I wanted to be told "thou dost protest too much."

    I wouldn't even make a scene.

    I didn't even plan to have a reaction.

    I would just wave my flag and go quietly into the night, but not before I got at least a single word in.

    "You bitch," I whispered, staring up at the ceiling, directing the comment at both of the hideous individuals in front of me.

    Only Vincent seemed to hear from two desks over, quietly answering me with a whispered, "Ayyyyyyyyyy."

    Despite the circumstance, I snorted and looked over at him, meeting his fist pump with one of my own.

    I didn't give half a shit what that made them think of us.