Moving on

I've been friends with the same three girls for five years, but lately one started dating my ex boyfriend, another came out of the closet and the other... Well she was never that talkative to begin with so I don't really know her. Of course we're still best friends and there's no one that could ever replace them but I just don't feel the need to be connected at the hip anymore.

Sure I'll go sit with them at lunch of there's no one there, and conversation with them is just as amusing as usual, But I'm spending more time with my new friends, the two new girls at school. I don't know why in particular, there was no big row, no argument and yet I am separated from them by an untraceable, undetectable line. Like clingfilm almost in its frail beauty. It's weak, but that division is still there.

Perhaps I'm just subconiously focusing on my work more, or trying to help the new girls settle in, but I feel that they don't need me so much. I'm not being excluded from them, there is no malice or spite involved, our friendship has just moved on.

As I browse this thought more I realise there doesn't even need to be a word to describe the subtle change in our dynamics. It's not even a separation, it's just a change. And perhaps that's not a bad thing.

That sinking feeling

There's that slightly nauseous feeling you get when you're nervous. Your fight or flight mechanism kicking in, as if puking your guts out in front of whatever potential threat there is will help you do either, unless projecting stomach acid at your enemies is a useful weapon.

I have that feeling now, and I'm sitting calmly in a library, tapping away on my iPad. There is no threat present, I am not stressed and there is no possible reason for my anxiety. And yet I still feel like my stomach is being sucked out of my body by an ethereal vacuum cleaner. 

I reflect on the past few days. Nothing much has occurred. 

The boy I like said hi and I tripped over a chair at him. I'm teaching my pet American to speak English. I suspended my brother by his ankles and shook him only to find a teacher watching in horrified fascination.

So why do I have this feeling of dread? As if there is something around the corner that I detest, but I can't quite put my finger on it. A curious nagging sensation which I allow to fill me in the presence of all other emotions being impartial. 

Then I realise, that once again I have not done my maths prep. Oops.

The lesbian slut party

You know that scene in mean girls? The one where Cadi aka Lindsey Lohan enters the gym full of girls and it all goes silent? That happens to me. All the fucking time.

Mia, Beth and I are referred to as the lesbian slut party. The whores. The hoe brigade. Our names are mud. If we breathe in a boys direction then we've obviously banged him. And here's how it happened.

Last Friday night was the sixth form BBQ. Everyone was going, there was alcohol, it was a night for a good time. We made a pact to kiss the boys we'd been crushing on, all of us, Mia would go for Josh, Beth for James and I'd kiss Max.

It was just a kiss, and the boys liked it, we liked it. Mia started dating Josh and I was on the way there with Max while Beth gave up on James and decided to become a crazy cat lady. 

Then the rumours started. Beth was on weed. Mia was an emo. We'd all had unprotected sex. They were flying round the school and some were believed. 

When we walked into the lunch hall a hush followed us, whispers flitted about behind our backs. Someone coughed "Slut party!" And we sat down, it taking about ten seconds for conversation to return to normal.

We remained composed in front of them but later we all broke down, Beth ringing her mum asking to come home, Mia wanting to leave the school entirely.

Are we really sluts? Did we cross some unnamed social line when we kissed those boys? They have been ignored entirely, so if so then it is hardly gender equal.

The thing that gets me is the term lesbian being used as a general insult in the same manner as slut. Closeted friends of ours look suitably awkward when listening in on conversations. 

Why is this necessary? What did we do wrong?  What did we do to these people that they should desire us harm? 

I wish I knew the answers.