Sophomore year started out the same. I went to school two weeks early for volleyball try-outs and practice. However, there were no senior football players to flirt with or hide behind. My safety net was gone.
However, we both made the volleyball team and were starting players. I was the setter and she was my spiker. Whenever I had the opportunity I would set the ball to her so she would get the hit. My other spiker Aleah did not like that very much. Aleah was one of the girls who went to grade school with me in case you forgot.
I really don’t know what was the breaking point my sophomore year. All of the sudden the rumor was everywhere. Aleah was mostly responsible for the vast ripple of gossip that ensued about me. I don’t really know why she started it up again. I have to think it was more than me not setting the ball to her. But to this day I really can not figure it out.
Lexi, Aleah and Callie made sure everyone knew I “was” a lesbian. They made up AWFUL stories about me. They would crank call me and ask me to homecoming. They toilet papered and egged our house at least 10 times that year (my parents ended up having to replace all the siding on our house), and would write nasty things about me on my driveway.
On the ladies bathroom stalls on the sophomore level there were obsenities written about me. In biology, the boards that we screwed the beakers on had stuff written about me as well. I would get hate mail slipped into my locker. I would get disgusting phone calls in the middle of the night.
I literally had nail polish remover and a can of Lysol in my locker to try to erase all the stuff graffittied all over the school about me. I felt like when I walked down the hall I would have tunnel vision just trying to get to where I needed to go. I was so afraid to look right or left because of something someone might say. Being a tough girl didn’t help. I could fight them all day long but they never stopped.
To make matters worse Jill told me she needed to take a step back in our friendship because people were starting to talk about her also. The crazy thing is I told her I understood and that my feelings were not hurt. What was I talking about? Yes my feelings were hurt! I wanted someone to be in my corner and fight for me! I wanted someone to stand up for me! I wanted someone to care enough about me that no matter what anyone said they wouldn’t abandon me! I felt all alone and like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders.
Needless to say, no guy at my school would touch me with a ten-foot pole. I still always had a boyfriend though, they just went to other schools. I somehow felt safer with a boyfriend. Not that it did any good as far as the rumor went. However, having a relationship was a security for me. Of course, we all know that it was a false security but it was all I had at the time.
I cried a lot that year. I never said a bad word about any of those girls. I don’t think it was because I was some martyr turning the other cheek. I think I was always just so afraid of what they would say next if I were to retaliate.
One day a bunch of girls called my house and my mom and I both answered at the same time. They were screaming, “Lezzy, Lezzy, Lezzy,” and other mean things. My mom said, “Who is this!?!?” Immediately they hung up. She came upstairs and found me bawling. I finally told her what was going on.
My mom was so upset after I told her. She knew Aleah’s parents well and she called up her mom and told her what was going on. Aleah’s mom said she would talk to her daughter. So she called my mom back and said Aleah had no idea what my mom was talking about and that she never said a negative word about me. My mom told her mom that her daughter was a mean and cruel girl. Her mom hung up on my mom.
Parents out there…listen up…if a parent comes to you saying your child did something THEY PROBABLY DID.
Next day at school I was now a nark and a lesbian. Now I got made fun of because I went crying to my mom, couldn’t handle my own problems…blah, blah, blah! I didn’t go to my parents because my mom is a person of action. I knew she wouldn’t sit by silent and watch her baby be tortured. The one great thing about my mom knowing is that now I was able to talk her into letting me go back to public school.
The funny thing is nobody would say anything to my face. All this stuff said about me was indirect; whether a crank phone call, things written about me on school property, notes in my locker, etc. It was the cowardice way of handling things. That is what bothered me the most. I have always been the type of person who said what I thought to the person and never shyed away from a conflict.
So I left Catholic school and everyone behind and never once talked to another soul from that school again. I switched schools once again. For the second time in my life I was the “new girl”. I just figured I had two years left of high school and it couldn’t get any worse than what I had left.
So I started my junior year at a new school. My first class was Chemistry. Since I was new to the school I wasn’t familiar with the layout of the school so I walked into my first class late. The first face I saw was Amanda, wide-eyed and giggling. The first thought in my head was “If there is a God in this world, He must hate me.”