It is a mystery I have never solved. After first period on my first day of high school I found bathroom graffiti about myself. In the second stall in the second floor bathroom, someone neatly penned BROOKE F IS A WHORE on the toilet paper dispenser. I hadn't even been in high school for a full hour! Surely there was a Brooke F in a higher grade with a nasty reputation. How awkward for this freshman, to share a name with the school slut.
I searched for this hussy in the school directory. She was not there. Just me. I was the whore! How could this be? Who hated me enough to slander me during the first 50 minutes of school?
There was only one real suspect: Heather from summer school basketball. That bitch would have knifed me if she could have gotten me alone.
There was only one real suspect: Heather from summer school basketball. That bitch would have knifed me if she could have gotten me alone.
I don't know why she wanted to smash my face with a basketball. It was instantaneous. I think it had to do with my shorts, which were cutoffs. I missed the first two weeks of training because I was on a school trip, and I missed the day they told us no jean shorts. My Umbros were long gone; I cast them off in seventh grade, when I figured out girls hate girls who wear Umbros after elementary school. The cutoffs were all I had and, since NO ONE told me they were forbidden, I wore them every day.
Layups in my jorts.
Suicide runs in my jorts.
Scrimmages in my jorts.
Trouble with girls AGAIN because of my shorts.
I later heard from a few girls that they thought I was giving the finger to our coaches and everyone by wearing the cutoffs and I was probably an asshole. These girls eventually learned that I'm not an asshole, but Heather never caught on. She ran laps behind me, whispering "bitch" with each pound of our feet.
So I guess it was her. I don't know why calling me a whore would be anyone's priority on the first freaking day of school, unless maybe it was my ex traveling back in time? He was pretty fond of that word, too.
The moral of the story, my friend, is to be very careful about your shorts. You don't know who you're gonna piss off.
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