Off the Record

I walked home in the newly-cold air with my tail between my legs. I whimpered a bit and managed to unconsciously hang my head lower and lower the further I went. I hadn’t felt this way since grade school when all the mean girls in my class would make fun of me because I didn’t wear a sports bra or Teen Spirit deodorant or the school uniform skirt or because I talked with big words or acted strangely around police officers or brought pepperoni for my lunch. It had been years. But I still recognized the feeling: I was defeated. Deflated. Denied.
I wasn’t exactly sure what she had said…I could have been wrong…it could have been my imagination reacting in ways I only have the guts to write about, but I could have sworn she said, with an excessive amount of sarcasm, maybe meant for other people to hear as well, I think she said,

“Thanks for stealing all my friends; have a good night.”

1) I don’t steal–I share.
B) I never slept with anybody.
C) I never went on a date with anybody (maybe that should have gone before #2…).
4) I have invited her to go out with “her” friends numerous times when “her” friends and myself have gotten together.
5) Were they ever “hers” in the first place?

If that IS what she, in fact, DID say, then I’m hurt.
If it isn’t what she said, then I’m still hurt, because I don’t know what she really said.

I thought of turning back and approaching her about it, just saying, “What?” but, by the time I realized that I hadn’t understood what she said, I was too far away.

Don’t hate me because I don’t wear a sports bra or make friends easily. Please
I’m only here to bring you all funny-shaped vegetables and day-old pastries.
That is all.