1. Rumors

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I always cared too much about what other people thought of me. I think it was something that was drilled into me from an early age by my parents. They were always worried; worried that my grandparents wouldn't like the dinner they cooked for them, that the neighbors would look down on them for buying a used car, that the other kids at school would pick on me for having a sack lunch instead of buying a school lunch; worried about how my older sister never called anymore, about my older brother's inclination to heavy metal music and the occult, and extremely worried about how his actions might cause others to think that they weren't good parents.

I couldn't fully blame them, though. Worry is like a disease, a genetic sickness, passed down from generation to generation. They learned how to worry from their parents, and so on and so forth. And then, the worry somehow skipped over my two older siblings and all landed right on me.

So, it's no surprise that I freaked out when I realized there were rumors spreading about me at school.

One particular day, I was minding my own business, zoning out in Calculus, when I heard someone say my name behind me. I turned around, assuming that another student was trying to get my attention, but instead I found a group of my classmates—all girls, whom I had barely ever spoken to—huddled together and whispering, staring right at me.

When they saw me looking their way, they immediately stopped, averting their eyes. Shocked and confused, I turned back around, trying to shake it off.

They aren't talking about me. You're just being paranoid, I tried to tell myself.

But as soon as my back was facing them again, I heard a chorus of giggles, and the whispering resumed.

"...someone saw them...yesterday on the field...Nathaniel and that weird girl..." bits and pieces of their conversation floated to my ears. I stiffened. Yesterday? Somebody saw that...

The bell rang, in that moment sounding to me much more like an alarm alerting some kind of impending nuclear doom, but all it really signaled was the end of the school day. In a flash, I scooped up my things and rushed out of the door.

God, I hope no one actually saw. My heartbeat quickened, and panic rose in my throat. Someone could so easily misunderstand...

I marched my way to the parking lot and my signature spot, right next to the basketball courts. Parked directly next to my beat up little car, like always, was my best friend, Jay. He was waiting for me, like he did every day after class, leaning on the hood of his bright orange jeep—his pride and joy.

"Hey," I said with a grin, trying to forget what I had just heard in class.

"Hey, buddy," Jay said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Have a fun day in class?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, yeah. I sure do love geometry. I can't get enough of it. In fact, I think I'm gonna go back and beg my teacher to make class longer."

Jay stared me down, not even the hint of a smile on his face. That was weird. Usually he was even more of a sarcastic idiot than I was. My grin quickly faded.

"You got something you want to tell me about?" Jay asked me, his dark eyes almost glaring.

"Um...no?" I said, all at once confused and nervous.

"You sure?" he pressed on. "Because from what I heard today in class, you should have plenty to tell me."

"What did you hear in class?" I asked, my heart sinking.

"Nothing really," Jay examined his cuticles, as if he weren't that interested in the conversation topic. "Just that, oh, I don't know, you and Sami freaking Bauer were making out on the football field last night." He raised his eyes to meet mine, and I couldn't help but feel like I was under interrogation.

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