Dancing Around // peter parker

28

A slut? A slut? A freaking slut? Why? Just because I made out with one guy at one party weeks ago? Was that really it? I didn't want to know. I really didn't want to know anything about what people thought of me. I already knew it was pointless. People make assumptions about you without even talking to you. It happened to me a lot back home and now it was happening to me again.

A freaking slut of all things. They couldn't come up with something honest at least? I thought about it during the day. In fact, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Before I was worried about the school newspaper, trying to figure out what excuse I was going to say to Judy, but I didn't really care by the time I walked into the classroom.

The minute I sat down at my computer, Judy brought over her chair with wheels next to me. I hated her damn computer chair. It was like she was trying to show off its wheeling ability compared to my non-wheel-chair.

"I want to talk to you," she said.

"Do you think I'm a slut?" I asked.

"What?"

"This freshman in the cafeteria bathroom heard a rumor that I was a slut. Have you heard it?"

"No."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not," she said.

"You're the editor of the school newspaper. Of course, you know." She opened and closed her mouth. "Do you think I'm a slut?" I asked again.

"I have no comment," she told me.

I turned to my computer, typing in my username and password. "You do think I'm a slut."

"Look, that's not what's important right now. Why didn't you show up during homecoming? We had to use pictures from the yearbook. Don't you get how embarrassing that is?"

"Maybe I was sucking someone's dick."

She grabbed my shoulder back, making me look at her. "I'm serious, Marina. You let me down. I can kick you out if you don't have a solid excuse. I don't want to kick you out. I don't care what you do with other people. You take good photos."

I sighed. "My cat died."

"What?"

"My. Cat. Died."

"You have a cat?"

"Had. It's dead now. I was weeping all night, looking at photos of him all weekend long. It was heartbreaking. I was in a really bad place," I said with no emotion.

"You're not pulling my leg right now, are you?" She asked.

"It's there if you want to believe it."

She looked at me for a really long time, before sighing to herself. "Your cat died. If anybody asked, he was sick for a very long time. His name was Orange and you don't have any photos of him on your phone because they make you sad. Okay?"

I nodded my head.

"Okay. Good." She stood up from her chair with wheels. "Everybody, your attention please," she yelled. The whole room looked at her. "The reason Marina didn't go to the homecoming dance was that her cat died. Please don't be tough on her and be considerate on the matter."

People around the room all seemed to buy it. Someone said, "That sucks." Another person frowned. And one guy patted my shoulders as he walked by.

I stood up. "I just want to say one thing," I told the room, "Do you guys think I'm a slut?"

Judy placed her hand on my shoulder, forcing me to sit back down. "Haha, she's just mourning. We all mourn in different ways. Alright, back to work everybody." She clapped a few times, before turning to me. "What's your problem?"

"I just want to know if you think I'm a slut," I said.

"Why does it matter? Do you think you're a slut?" She asked.

"Of course not."

"Then who cares what everyone else thinks? Stop worrying about what other people think and worry about the newspaper. You already screwed us over once, if you do it again, you're out." She sat down on her chair with wheels, before pushing her way to her desk by kicking other things.

I turned to my computer, hooking my camera to it. Stop worrying about what other people think? Easier said than done. What if Peter had heard it? Did he think it was true?