You are a sell out
But you couldn't even do that right
So your price tag has been slash
And now you're chilling on a half priced clearance rack

The social scene where she gets her fix
Has been broken since '86
And just look at that social clique
Do you really wanna be a part of it?

[chapter ten

Bright sunlight pouring through my open window woke me up. I shot off the bed when I realized I wasn't alone. Patrick was asleep next to me, chest falling and rising in a slow and steady rhythm. I knew nothing had happened, not after the mall with...my brain became lead and my stomach churned. I ran into the bathroom and threw up, remembering last night. The smells, the feelings, everything. I banged my head against the wall, trying to force it from my brain. I wiped my mouth off and went back into my room to wake up Patrick. I put my hand on his shoulder and shook him gently.

"Patrick." I whispered. He moaned and rolled over. I rolled my eyes and shook him again. "PATRICK!" I hissed. He pushed my hand away. "Ugh." I walked over to my stereo and skimmed through my CD collection. Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness. I popped it into my CD player and went for track three. Before pressing play, I turned the volume dial all the way up and stuck my fingers in my ears, pressing play with my toe before ducking for cover (my stereo is fucking loud). "Jellybelly" flooded the room, I felt the floor vibrate with the sound. Patrick shot off the bed and landed hard on the floor. I wrapped the stereo cord around my foot and yanked it out of the wall. Patrick, who was spread-eagled on his stomach, hands over his head, looked sideways at me, breathing hard.

"I want one of those for my birthday." he said. I giggled at him as we both stood up. He yawned and stretched. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Like ten." I replied slowly, his yawning was contagious.

"Shit." he said, though not sounding too worried. I laid back on the floor, staring at the bright white ceiling.

"Thank you Patrick." I whispered. Silence.

"Your welcome." he replied. I looked over at him sitting cross-legged on the floor staring at me, but had to look away.

"I wanna break up with Scott." I said. More silence.

"Why."

"I like someone else."

"Who."

"Someone."

"Okay."

"Should I?"

"Why did you go out with Scott if you didn't like him." I had no quick answer for that. I thought in silence, and he waited for me.

"I was just excited." I said. "I'd never been asked out before, and Scott's cute, and I guess I was afraid no one else would ask me out if I rejected Scott. It's stupid I know but..."

"It's not stupid, I get it." he said. I could tell he meant it. "But I think you took it a bit too far last night, you know? Everyone's gonna know about this." My stomach churned again at the thought.

"Seriously?" I asked.

"Seriously. Not to make you worried or anything, but I have a feeling you're gonna get some kind of whore reputation. I mean, I don't blame you..."

"But you think I'm a whore."

"Fuck Heather of course I don't." he said, frustrated. "I'm just trying to fucking warn you okay?" he said.

"Okay, fine. But what about Pete, and Andy, and Joe, and Parker?"

"I'll talk to them." he said.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

"I'm glad to have you around."

Patrick did talk to the guys and Parker, and while they're skeptical, they're listening to him. I hung out with them at band practice over the weekend, both days, and Monday I was prepared for anything school had to throw at me. I sat downstairs by the door waiting for Paris's car, but they didn't come at six thirty like I was so used to them doing. I looked at the kitchen clock and saw seven fifteen. Shit. If I started running NOW I might get to the bus stop in time. I rolled my eyes, grabbed my bag and took off. I ran down the block, around the next, down two more, and just saw the bus leave.

"STOP! WAIT!" I cried. I saw Joe in the back of the bus, calling out to the driver to stop, but it didn't. "Fuck." I muttered, trying to catch my breath. I sighed and started running again. Of course, I'm not a runner, so I almost passed out about three blocks from the school, and had to sit down on the curb for a few minutes. I stood up and walked the rest of the way, slugging into my first period class. Mr. Barrett was made sure I didn't slip in unnoticed.
"Miss Matheson. Where is your late pass?"

"Um, I don't have one. I...I missed the bus." I said, scratching my head.

"Probably missed her period too." I heard a whisper and my eyes scanned the room to see who had spoken. What I realized was that EVERYONE seemed to be whispering to someone else, all eyes on me. I could feel my face flushing. How could my entire class know, when no one I knew was in this class? I an empty desk in the back of the room and just sat there, staring at the cold grey desktop. I heard the whispers around me and it reminded me of my first day here, only this wasn't the kind of innocent curiosity they held for me now; now they were wondering if I really was the whore I was rumored to be. I hated it, I really hated it.

Lunch came and went, I didn't eat, I sat at a table by myself, nothing in front of me except my arms folded against my chest. Paris didn't call for me, neither did Pete or Patrick, I was just allowed to sit. When the bell rang, I bolted up and ran for my locker.
"HEATHER." my eyes closed.

"Fuck." I muttered as Paris and Co. approached me. I felt fingernails dig into my shoulder and spin me around. I was faced with a furious group of girls. I smiled, my best attempt to get her to, it failed.

"Heard you and Scott had fun on Friday night. Didn't know you two were together." she said. I shrugged.

"Yeah, it's only been like two dates though." he jaw dropped in disgust.

"You WHORE." she shrieked, and before I knew what had happened, she'd smacked me hard across the face. I let my head turn to the side and kept it there, letting her think I was hurt. Truth was, that I really was hurt. My face stung and I could feel blood rushing to my cheek. I didn't even think. My foot flew out and landed square on her stomach, throwing her back. She slid on her back across the floor to gasps and jeers from the surrounding kids. I shrieked and jumped on top of her. She started tearing at my hair and scratching at my face. I flailed my fists and kicked, aiming for her shins and her stomach and her face.

"HEATHER WHAT THE FUCK?!" I heard Pete screaming. I felt two strong hands grab me by the shoulders and lift me off Paris.

"WHORE!" shrieked Paris.

"BITCH!" I screeched.

"SLUT!" she retorted.

"ASSWIPE!" I cried.

Pete threw me on the ground against the lockers and knelt down next to me, looking at my quickly swelling right eye. "What the fuck were you thinking?" he whispered. I shook my head.
"She started it." I mumbled.

"HEATHER!" I heard Scott call. I barely saw him shove Pete to the ground. "Get away from her, freak." he said. He knelt down next to me, looking at the gouges in my face that Paris's nails had dug. "Baby what happened?" he asked. He took my hand and kissed my fingers. I tried to pull my hand away but I had this mounting headache that made it really hard to move. I could see Patrick bounding over to me. This just kept getting better and better.

"What happened here?" he asked, I think directed at Pete who was still on the floor where Scott had knocked him over. Pete shook his head.

"Fuck off circus rejects I'm trying to tend to my girlfriend here." said Scott. His grip on my hand tightened, squeezing my fingers together.

"She's my friend Jerkoff." said Pete, trying to get closer to me to look at my injuries. I really was wishing someone would just help me up and take me to the nurse.

"Heather? Friends with you? And why would anyone think something so retarded. She's with me." said Scott. He started crushing my hand. I felt something crack and I screamed.

"SCOTT YOU'RE HURTING ME!" I squealed. He looked at me, angry and shocked, and released my hand, letting it fall in my lap. My eyes welled with tears as I felt an overwhelming stinging heat in my pinky. I started to moan in pain and I heard Patrick.

"STUPID SHIT LOOK WHAT YOU DID!" he screamed. Scott rose.

"What'd you call me Stumph?" he asked.

"He called you a fucking dumb shit. What, you deaf too? You fucking broke her hand!" said Pete, getting up and standing next to Patrick. Scott swung a punch at Pete, who ducked and it nailed Patrick in the chest. Patrick fell to the ground, windless wheezing and coughing. Pete started kicking and punching at Scott, who was fighting back just as hard.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" a loud voice called from down the hallway. Mr. Barrett, Dr. Matthews, and the phys. ed teacher Mrs. Carlson came bounding down the hallway. We were all screwed, especially if we didn't get landed in detention, because if we don't, that's all the more free time we'll have to kill each other.