It was my senior year and although I wanted to start school off different than last year, I knew it would be the same. A slut is still a slut, it doesn’t matter what grade you're going into or what you're coming back from. No one cares what you say, it’s always what you did, and so the saying “actions speak louder than words” rings true. The only problem with that statement was that it wasn’t true at all. I was as far from a slut as it got without being a Nun. I never wore obscenely, eye-grabbing, fuck-me clothes, and make up, what was that? Like I said far from slut. So what on God’s green earth possessed Corey Winchester to spread such a malicious rumor about me was beyond me. A couple guys and months of dating and you’re a slut. I always thought you had to do some type of fucking to get into that hall of fame. Anyway, so just like the year before I would probably be harassed and treated like shit by my peers, whom all believed Corey. I would do as I always did, take a couple deep breaths, count to three and move on.
