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The Day I Hear The Rumor - Original Writing

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The day I hear the rumor I am 14 years old, enclosed in a bathroom stall. Its walls are light blue, exactly the color of mold. Through a crack in its door, I can see three girls enter: heavy metal gir ls with tremendous eyelashes. They stand in front of the mirror, speaking urgently:
"Did you hear about H.?" one of them says. "I hear she did it with Mitch and all his friends, like 12 guys at once!"
"Twelve guys?" says another. "She is disgusting!"
Th
e last chimes in. "Oh, my God, she is such a slut!" she says, drawing out the last word for effect.
From my vantage point, I can see their faces in the mirror as they talk; the way their eyes open wide in amazement as they contemplate the horrors of what this girl has done. I 'm thrilled by their outrage. When they finally leave the bathroom, I emerge, reeling with what I 've just heard. Twelve guys. Impossible. So impossible I believe it utterly.
I have seen the girl they 're talking about. She 's dark and w omanly, with an air of mystery about her that the kids in the hallway assume is sex. She is usually alone, but she always acts as if she 's on her way somewhere, as if she 's late. I 'd never admit it in school, but I 'm drawn to her. Everyone looks at her, wh ile I 'm a gloomy, invisible girl with a maximum of three friends, a girl whose name nobody can remember. Beer, parties and kisses are remote. I 'm a Save the Whales activist, so antisocial I 've convinced myself that whales are smarter than people.

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