Prom Ghosts (A Perry Moxley & Harry Singer Story)

Rumors

"I know, right?" Dawn says. "Did you know that she went through therapy as a child? Everybody talked about it way back in 8th grade. As expected, she's a bit loose in the head. Just like those brothers of hers."

The tray clattered against the floor as it slipped away from my trembling fingers. Harry caught my gaze, looking a bit surprised and he stood up too fast not knowing whether to smile or to wave but he did both in an awkward manner.

Mortified and covered with food splatters I shook my head and turned away. I really needed to go someplace where Harry Singer didn't exist. I shot out of the cafeteria, trying hard to hold back my tears. I knocked into somebody on the way out. It was the head boy.

"Hi," he greets cheerfully and saw the look on my face. "Whoa, are you okay?"

Forcing out a smile, I nodded and excused myself. I needed to calm myself. I can't let anybody see me like this.

I hear footsteps from behind and I look around to see him. He must've followed me for all I know.

"Perry," he utters.

"Harry, please go," I told him, speeding up my pace.

He blinked and grinned awkwardly, grabbing hold of my elbow. "What? Are you mad?"

I jerked my arm away from him. "No, Harry, I'm not."

"Then why are you running away?" he asked.

"Oh my God! Are you really that daft?" I exclaimed and he stopped on his tracks. "What do you want with me this time, Harry?"

Scratching his neck, he shrugged, "I just came to see if you were okay."

I stared at him, astonished. I could not believe him. "Really? Do you think I'm okay?" I asked him. He shifted uncomfortably around on his feet, not knowing what to say.

"You know what, Harry Singer?" I told him. "You are a jerk."

He blinked at me with a hurt look in his face as if my words stung him.

"You said you weren't going to show my book to anybody," I said. "You promised, remember?"

"You're mad because I showed your sketchbook to my friends?" he asks and forced out a laugh. "They were only drawings, Perry. What's the matter with that?"

I exhaled sharply. "What's the matter? You promised not to show it," I told him. "And you can't even keep a small promise. I thought we were friends. Friends don't break promises. If you want friends, you have to at least learn to keep your word. "

"What was with your book, anyway?" he asks, agitation building in his voice. "Is it like your diary and you don't want people to see it?"

My throat felt dry. I was too tired to talk. I didn't want to tell him, he didn't need to know. "You know what, just leave me alone," I croaked out, turning on my heels.

"Come on, it was just a stupid sketchbook, Perry,"

That did it. I spun around and jabbed a finger at him. "You're the one who's stupid!" I cried. "Oh, and by the way, I am not dead obsessed with you so eat your heart out, Harry Singer. Just because you think you're so good looking it doesn't mean that everybody automatically likes you! You are mean and evil. And you're the biggest jerk I've ever met. You'll always be and nothing else!"

I fled down the hall. I didn't care if I was bumping and knocking into other students.

I could hear hushed whispers all around me. By the way they looked with scrutinizing stares and the snarky smirks, they were all talking about me and most of them were from my year. There was no doubt it was Dawn Dempsey who made up the gossips herself. Everybody listens to the queen. That was how she ruins people.

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