I'm a stripper, doesn't mean I'm a slut

The fondling of persons of the male gender

The streets are full of strangers

I shake my head trying to rid my mind of these depressing thoughts. Arrgh, I'm being so self pitiful.

Why am I even thinking of this right now? I haven't thought so much into depth about my shitty past for ages. Maybe it has something to do with a certain event yesterday involving a certain Douchebag.

I had gotten so numb to the lonliness and my ostracised reputation in high school, that when I actually started getting friends (Lex, her cheerleader buddies, Rin) I thought that the curse of my socially retardedness had finally been broken. I thought that my life had finally opened up to a new wave of social competence and actually having real live friends (who weren't in the shape of a cat, a toddler or a stripper roomate).

I know it's kind of weird but after a few hours of actually having an okay time with the normally D-baggish James, I thought that we might be friends? That after breaking through the initial barrier of being friendless to actually having a few people in my life, gaining more people would be a breeze.

I was wrong.

And when he randomly left me so rudely and abruptly, I guess it sort of brought back all the crappy feelings of my time being a complete and total loner, both in my previous high school and in this one. I felt so alone again.

Now don't get me wrong - I'm not saying that I had spontaneously developed an irrevokable undying love for James Adam Cooper  after a few measly hours of having an okayish time with him to the point that I am emotionally devastated when he started being rude to me again. 

I just, I don't know, thought that maybe we were becoming friends. Having one less enemy, one less person against me in the world.

I had gotten used to the familiarity of the feeling of having friends again, I lost myself in the pure joy of non-socially ineptitude for a few fleeting moments. But I won't anymore.

I guess this is good, in a way. I need to remember not to be so emotionally invested in other people. Not let other people's actions affect me - or at least no show anyone just how much I am affected. Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know (haha I'm so funny). I need to remember that James and I aren't even friends, our relationship consists of a love-hate, master-servant type of thing. Any friendliness on James' part would probably be in the name of trolling me to his own amusement.

He did, after all, indirectly turn almost the entire school against me on my first day via his crazy girlfriend. And enslave me to follow his every wish and whim as soon as he gained blackmail against me.

On the other hand, aside from my depressing feelings, I'm also kind of curious as to why exactly James got so pissy at my questioning of his random appearance at a strip club. I had expected him to respond in his usual offhand, egotistical manner, and perhaps reference in some way to his undeniable good looks or skills with the ladies or his massive -

"I know what you're trying to pull."

"Huh?" In a split second, I am snapped back into reality, and look up to see no other than Ashley and her two bimbo friends flanking her sides like a pair of skinny female bodyguards adorned with false lashes, sporting long fluro pink nails for weapons, standing over me.

I sigh and attempt to continue having deep and meanungful thoughts while pretend-reading my English book as the rest of the class and I wait for the teacher, who has yet to grace us with her presence.

"Did you hear me, bitch?" Ashley hisses.

I continue to ignore her and pull my book up closer to my face, seemingly deeply immersed in its pages although I am reading the same line over and over again. Suddenly a hand with sharp pink nails snatches the book away from me, scratching the tip of my nose as it retracts.