By the time we returned on Monday, the whole school knew about my latest relationship. People swarmed around us in the hall and I could hear our names buzzing out of every conversation I passed. People were outraged. It made absolutely no sense, but the school was treating it like a celebrity sex scandal. By the end of first hour I was expecting to find a dead cat stuffed in my locker, right next to a doll with the head pulled off. Worst of all, I was the more popular of the two of us, managing to retain a few supporters here and there. Ann didn't have that luxury and was hit with a barrage of unjust anger.
I had expected there to be rumors, but not flat out hostility. To the students of FHHS "Clay" had become more of a symbol than a man. When people heard my name they thought of the perceived good. They imagined justice and fairness, equality and truth. In their eyes I was taking that image and dragging it through the mud. We survived the first school day of our relationship, only to find ourselves walking on pins and needles around each other.
"It just doesn't make sense!" I exclaimed. Ann was standing beside me in the parking lot. We were both drenched in sweat from our respective practices. I had out ran Bill for once, channeling all of my pent up aggression from the day into my workout.
Ann shrugged off my outburst. "I don't know why it bothers you so much. Who cares what they think? Sticks and bricks..." She trailed off leaving me to finish the familiar line for myself.
"It bothers me because it isn't right!" I was trying not to rant. "I'm just a man, why should they hold me to such unrealistic standards!"
Ann leaned back against the side of my truck as she inspected a loose strand of her hair. "Right, and I don't live up to those standards? After all I'm just a common whore." She didn't sound condescending or even upset. Ann was a smart girl and she understood that I was just letting out my frustration.
I still found her coy attitude to be infuriating. She didn't care one bit about the pressure of maintaining a good public image. I bit back a hurtful comment, took a deep breath, and then tried to downplay my concerns with a joke. "No, that's not true at all. There isn't anything 'common' about you." I smiled and pecked her lips.
I opened the truck door for Ann, but before we could get in Dave came jogging up to us. He was still clad in his football pads suggesting that he had come straight to us after his practice had ended. "Slow down there Clay!" As if I hadn't noticed him already. "Hatchet and I are heading downtown for a guy's night; think you and Ann here can take a night off?" His joke was too accusatory to be funny.
"First off, Ann and I are not an intimate couple," I made my first point intending to gloss over into the second, but Dave cut me off short.
"Sucks to be you." He inserted.
I excused his interruption; knowing that Dave had always possessed a poor sense of humor. "I'm free tonight, when and where?" I questioned.
He shrugged as if neither detail was of any importance. "Just downtown tonight. We can meet at the parking garage on Olive Street." He left out a specific time.
The only reason I was still listening was so that I could spend a little time with Hatchet. I hadn't seen much of my hairy friend recently. "So, parking garage at seven?" I proposed an hour.
Dave gave his halfhearted approval, "Sure, I'll see you then." He smirked before tacking on one last allegation, "You two should have plenty of time to wrap this up before seven." And he walked off. Leaving me fuming and Ann once again trying to calm me down.
"Sticks and bricks, Clay. Sticks and bricks." She chastised.
It helped, "I think it's actually sticks and stones." I corrected in a half joking, half hostile but in a passive way about a non-important topic.

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A Mask in A Mirror
Teen FictionSaints can't be seen with thieves, drug addicts, and sluts. Contrary to popular belief, high school hallway hero Clay Appleson is no saint and she is no ordinary slut. A Mask in A Mirror is the story of these two star crossed lovers as they battle t...