[Author's Note: This chapter has
no sex
in it, but contains major plot points. If you wish to jump straight to the sex, you can safely skip this chapter and continue to Chapter 4.]
Chapter 3 - Back to School
The next day I found myself back in school. My mother had taken my temperature and, finding no fever, declared that I was fully recovered.
Words cannot express the dread I felt returning to campus. I knew that in the minor absence Simone and her evil posse would have taken every opportunity to spread more lies and vicious rumors about me. I walked into the school fully expecting some Carrie-esque embarrassment to occur.
To my surprise, it was relatively quiet - at first. Then it began to happen.
It happened slowly at first, but then more often. When the kids looked at me, they smiled, and then cocked their heads in a sad, almost pitying look. One girl saw me, squealed, and ran over to give me a huge hug. She squeezed me so hard I couldn't breathe.
"Oh, hi Ronnie," I managed to gasp. She pulled away and held my shoulders in her hands. She opened up her mouth to speak, but then closed it again. Once more, the head tilt, and then she said. "If you need
anything
, just let me know,
okay?
" With each emphasis she squeezed my shoulders harder and shook me a little.
"Um, sure," I said, confused. "Okay."
Once more she opened her mouth to say something, but once again she closed it into a sad, wistful smile.
Suddenly her eyes grew red and she choked back a sob. Covering her mouth with her hand, gave me another bone-crushing hug before she ran off. I watched her go, totally confused.
When I got to my locker, I was in for a shock. The
entire
locker, from top to bottom, was covered in flowers, hearts, cards, stuffed animals, and other tributary. It was strictly over the top. There were cards, there were teddy bears. There were teddy bears holding cards. I stood there, my mouth agape, as I started to read through the messages of well-wishing.
Get well soon!
We love you! You're a survivor, Shanon!
"It's
Shannon
, you shmuck," I muttered to myself. Even so, I didn't have a clue what was going on. I had only been out of school for a day! As far as I knew, no one ever got this kind of attention for having a cold. I didn't have the first clue as to how to even open my locker, when the bell rang.
Fuck, late again!
I raced down the hall to Mr. Rawlins' classroom. I went through the door, fully expecting to rattle off yet another "I'm sorry," when I stopped in my tracks.
The entire class stood at one end, looking at me, underneath a giant banner which read "Don't Let The Vaginal Placebo Get You Down!" There were hearts and flowers drawn in colorful patterns all over the banner. Underneath, the students stood in a long line across the side of the room.
Simone, in the center (of course), made a show of taking a step towards me, beginning a slow clap. The rest of her friends joined in, and then the remainder of the class. Two other girls burst into tears. Mr. Rawlins sat at his desk, a deep, angry frown on his face as he watched Simone.
When the applause reached its climax, she whirled on her heel, her ponytail whipping about dramatically. "Shannon Rochet," she said, pronouncing my name correctly, "is a survivor. She is a true role model for each of us."
What the fuck is she going on about?
I thought to myself. I was very uncomfortable, and didn't have the first idea about what she was up to.
Simone started walking back and forth as if she were a general addressing her troops. "It would be easy to stay quiet about her condition and suffer all alone," Simone continued, "but she needs to know that we stand behind her one-hundred percent!"
There were murmurs and nods of agreements. I looked from person to person and, with the exception of Simone's coven, the look of genuine, earnest solidarity was on everyone's faces.
"So even if Shannon's body betrays her, even if her
lady parts
are poisonous -" she said the words in a loud whisper.
"Simone..." Mr. Rawlins warned, standing up.
Simone whirled around to face me once more, her back to the rest of the class. "- we will
never
let her forget that we are here for her."
I stared at the words
Vaginal Placebo
on the banner. My stomach felt as if it dropped out of my body through the floor.
In one dizzying moment, I realized what she had done, the psychotic bitch. She had made it look as if she were trying to help me, pity me, play on people's emotions for helping the "sick girl," when in reality she had guaranteed that I would be ostracized for the remainder of my days at the school. Worse, I would never get a boy to talk to me, let alone ask me out on a date. No boy would go to the prom with me, no boy would kiss me.
The room erupted into applause, though a couple of the crying girls held on to each other in a tight embrace. Each and every boy in the room looked horribly uncomfortable. Simone, on the other hand, looked incredibly smug and pleased with herself.
"Okay, everyone," Mr. Rawlins said. "I think we've put Ms. Rochet on the spot for long enough. Let's all take our seats."
Simone turned to him, her grin faltering. "Oh, not yet, Mr. Rawlins!" she said sweetly. "We all chipped in to got her a get-well present."
The students parted like the Red Sea, revealing a giant box with colorful wrapping paper and a giant ribbon. It sat on the desk looking cheerful and ominous, like a birthday present from hell.
"Given her condition," Simone said, turning back to me. "She's going to need it." Her tone had turned icy.
Mr Rawlins disagreed. "Regardless of her
condition
," he said, "Ms. Rochet has taken up enough of my class time. I'm sure she appreciates the sentiment, however, and will be happy to open her gift on her own time. Isn't that right, Ms. Rochet?"
I looked at him, stunned and mortified.
I
was in trouble? How was this
my
fault?
Simone broke into a grin once more. Then, remembering her act, she pouted and looked back at the other students. "Well, we can still give her a hug for support, right?"
Not waiting for an answer, she turned back to me once more and swept across the distance in three strides, holding me by the shoulders and giving me a massive embrace. I felt her fingernails dig so deep into my back that I wondered if she drew blood through the shirt.
"Take your medicine for your disease, you little cunt," she snarled in my ear so that only I could hear.
Other students came up and gave me quick hugs, but I noticed that many of the boys tried to give me side-hugs, as if they wanted to keep their crotches away from mine as much as possible.
Jesus Christ
, I thought.
They actually they can catch something from me!
Of course, each of Simone's minions had to add in their own attack as well. Obviously planned beforehand, one by one they came up to me, flung their arms around my neck, and pinched my skin on my collar with every pound of pressure they could squeeze between their expensive manicured nails.
I sat through Mr. Rawlins' class dazed, rubbing my neck from time to time, and occasionally glancing at the box in the corner of the room. It was a
huge
box, and it seemed to mock me for the entire period. Once Simone caught me looking, however, and said something behind her hand to one of her friends, who giggled and shared the joke among the clique. I tried not to look at the present any more during the class, but as distracted as I was I couldn't help myself.
The bell rang, and the students started gathering their things. "Well, we didn't get to as much as we would have liked," Mr. Rawlins said, "but assuming we don't have another special moment for Ms. Rochet on Monday hopefully we can catch up. Speaking of which, Ms. Rochet - a moment if you please."
What the hell? Is he
still
on my case?
Simone and friends sauntered out of the room, but not before Simone got in one last jab. "Don't worry, Shannon," she said. "Before you know it, you'll
rocket
straight back to health."
The cackling was audible for several minutes as they left the room and walked down the hall.
"Shannon," Mr. Rawlins said from his desk. "Come over here."
My legs felt wobbly, but I went over to his desk. "Look, I don't know what's going on between you and Simone," he said, wearily. His voice sounded tired and sympathetic, not at all what I expected to hear from him. "But I
do
know that there is no such thing as 'vaginal placebo.' If any of the kids in this school had any brains they'd know what those terms actually meant."
He looked at me earnestly, as if he could say what was really on his mind. "I don't know what is in that box," he said, glancing in its direction, "but I'm convinced you don't want to know either. Take my advice: destroy the box and don't look inside it, ever. There is no possible way that whatever is in there will be a good thing for you. Don't let her fuck with you any more than she already has."
I stood up a little straighter when I heard him swear. I mean, I had heard swearing since I was a kid, but never from Mr. Rawlins. Unlike most of the teachers, he had always kept a strict set of boundaries, and rarely let himself get familiar in his tone with students. This was obviously important.
