The rejection emails piled up faster than I could count. Every morning, I’d refresh my inbox, hoping for a glimmer of hope, but all I found were the cold, impersonal We regret to inform you…
It became a cruel mantra. Store clerks, coffee shops, even babysitting gigs—no one seemed to be hiring, or if they were, they didn’t want someone with no real experience.
“Maybe you should just take a break,” Sarah suggested one afternoon as we walked home from school. “Give yourself time to think about what you want.”
“I don’t have time,” I said, shaking my head. “I need money now, Sarah. College doesn’t wait.”
I sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at my laptop. The desperation in me grew sharper with each passing day. My parents were still giving me the silent treatment, their disappointment a constant presence that weighed on me even when they weren’t in the room.
But scholarship wasn’t the whole problem.
The gossip started subtly at first—whispers in the hallways, lingering stares that felt heavier than usual. I brushed it off as leftover drama from the party, but then Sarah showed me the post on the anonymous account. My stomach dropped as I scrolled through the comments.
STD girl strikes again.
Emma’s caught between two bad boys.
Yikes, imagine choosing Caleb and ending up in a clinic.
Caleb has given her more than just late-night thrills—if you know what I mean.
People glanced at me in the halls, their faces a mix of pity, judgment, and amusement. Every laugh, every murmur—it all felt like it was aimed at me. Even Sarah couldn’t shield me from it.
“Who would even start something like this?” I asked her during lunch, my voice cracking.
“Someone jealous and pathetic who has nothing better to do.”
“But people believe it. They’re acting like it’s true.”
Sarah reached out, her hand covering mine. “It’s not true, Emma. The people who matter know that.”
***
Caleb found me sitting by the bleachers after school, my head in my hands.
“Hey,” he said, his voice cautious. “What’s going on?”
I looked up at him tiredly. “Like you don’t know. The whole school is only talking about me.”
He shrugged it off like it was nothing. “Let them talk,” he said, sitting next to me. “Who cares what they think?”
“I care!” I snapped, my frustration boiling over. “They’re saying I have an STD, Caleb. They’re acting like I’m some—”
“Some what? A girl who actually has a life? Screw them, Emma. They’re just jealous.”
“Jealous of what? That my life is falling apart?”
Caleb took my hand. “No,” he said quietly, leaning closer. “That you’ve got me.”