Francie left for school the next day feeling anxious and weird, which was getting to be a normal state of affairs for her. She didn't like it at all. Her early morning walk to practice, which used to be a time of quiet anticipation, had morphed into a time of stomach churning apprehension.

She got out to the pool deck and felt a wave of joy wash over her when she saw a familiar figure sitting in the bleachers, wearing a school hoodie and sipping what smelled like a mocha latte.

"Chester!" She ran as fast as she safely could to where he sat as he set his coffee aside to embrace her and pull her into his lap. "What are you doing here? Did coach ask you to come?"

He shook his head. "My girlfriend has early practice, so I figured I'd come and check her out," he explained with a beatific smile.

"Oh, wow, thank you," Francie responded, kissing his mouth, which tasted like mocha.

"Seriously, I thought you could use some moral support," he said, rubbing her back. "You must be a little nervous about the reception we're going to get here today, even given what coach said to everyone?"

Francie nodded, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Let's go, people, 1500 nice and easy," Coach bellowed from his chair. The sound of splashing filled the air as swimmers began diving in.

"Better get going," Chester said, patting her shoulder.

Francie nodded and rose, pulling her cap on and beginning to shove her hair in.

"Thanks again for coming," she said as she walked away.

"My pleasure," Chester answered. "I love seeing you in a suit." At Francie's look, he amended it to, "I mean, I love watching you swim."

"Better, I guess," Francie said with a grin.

She was a little worried as she hit the water that things were going to happen again, but apparently coach's threats carried weight, and no one messed with her, which was nice. After practice, she and Chester went to the front of the school to meet her parents to collect Francie's breakfast, then said good bye at the bell.

"See you in English," he said. "Stay strong, soldier." He leaned in and kissed her. 

Francie gave him a salute and turned smartly away, already inhaling her breakfast.

Jill gave her a dark look as she took her seat.

Great. What now?

Francie waited with trepidation for the rest of the period, but nothing followed from Jill, for which she was profoundly grateful. She left the class letting out a metaphorical breath, relaxing a little bit, hoping it was a harbinger of things yet to come.

She passed a group of students in the corridor who stopped talking as she came abreast of them. They gave her a cool look, and made a strange hissing sound, and a couple of them said, "Slut!" in low but perfectly understandable voices.

What? Of all the names she could've been called, why that? Francie turned around to look at them, and found that they were also turned to look at her. A couple of them gave her the finger before they turned back and continued walking.

Francie blinked, hugged her physics book tighter to her front and continued on her way.

She saw another cluster of students, with Allegra Murphy in their midst, coming her way, and steeled herself for whatever might happen.

"Go Francie, we're on your side," Allegra called, patting her shoulder and giving her a smile. "You're doing the right thing."

"Thanks," Francie answered with an uncertain smile.

On her side?  What side was that? Francie shook her head and entered her physics classroom, where all conversation stopped as soon as she stepped in. It was one of the most unpleasant feelings she'd ever experienced. All heads swiveled her way, and she knew, she just knew, that everyone had been talking about her.

What had they been saying?

Francie was ready to cry by the time she got to English, and when she saw Chester's face, she knew that he'd been having a similar morning. His features were drawn together, his expression dark, lips pursed.

"Are you okay?" was all he had time to ask before the bell rang and class began. 

Francie nodded tensely, but her chin trembled when he put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it, and all she wanted to do was step into his arms and cry, but of course there was no time for that.

They got their notebooks and pens out, and began taking notes on last night's reading, raising their hands and asking questions so they wouldn't get dinged for non-participation in class. Sycamore Day was first and foremost an institution with the highest academic standards, and no one was ever to forget that.

When the bell finally rang, Francie put her things away with relief, ignoring the fact that Tony and his friends were probably watching her and Chester and talking about them. She just wanted to get out of the classroom and find out how Chester's morning had gone, and if he knew anything about what was happening to them.

Jill joined them in the corridor as usual, but Chester cut her off almost immediately. "Jill would you mind leaving us alone today? I have something private I need to discuss with Francie today."

"What?" Jill responded, offended. "Her friends are going to be with you, you know that." 

"I'm going to ask them to leave also," Chester assured her.

Jill huffed out an aggrieved breath. "Fine."

Francie asked Tyler and Veronica if they would eat somewhere else also, and of course they were okay with it as well, leaving Francie and Chester alone at their regular table. 

"Thanks, guys," Francie said as they moved away.

"No problem, swamp donkey," Tyler said, making a kissy face at her as they sat at a nearby table. 

"So," Francie began as they unpacked their lunches. "Has your morning been as weird as mine?"

"If you mean people talking about me, not making eye contact and acting like I don't exist, then yeah, it's been a bit loopy," Chester said, nodding as he bit into his sandwich. "Is that what's been happening to you?"

"Not exactly, no." Francie told him about being called a slut, and about being told that some kids were on her side, and about being frozen out by a bunch of others. "And I know everyone's been talking about me, Chester, I can feel it," she finished, putting her food down as tears threatened to overcome her. 

"Oh no, oh no," Chester said, putting an arm around her when he saw her chin quivering. "Don't cry, Francie, not here, it will be all over the school in minutes."

"I'm trying not to," Francie said, swallowing. "But it's hard when you know everyone's looking at you but pretending not to, saying stuff but you don't know what it is, and the thing of it is, I haven't done anything!" Her last words were nearly a wail, and she leaned her head on Chester's comforting shoulder, body quaking.

"What the fuck is going on?" Chester asked, more to himself than anyone. "Why hasn't this died down already?"

"I mean, why would anyone call me a slut?" Francie asked. "I didn't do anything with Tony, I haven't done anything with you, and there hasn't been anyone else." She sat up and looked at Chester with indignant, wet eyes. "And even if I had, so fucking what? That would be my business, no one else's,  you know? There's nothing wrong with sleeping around, if that's what I want to do and I'm being careful not to get sick, get anyone else sick, or get pregnant, right?"

Chester could only look at her in admiration. "Absofuckinglutely," he finally agreed. 

A pair of shadows fell across them and they looked up to see Tyler and Veronica standing in front of them, looking concerned. "We could see you're both pretty upset, and we thought we should come and talk to you before lunch was over," Veronica explained.

Francie gestured to the seats across from them.

"You know something about what's going on? You've heard?"

They nodded. "People are being pretty careful around us because they know we're you're friends and everything," Veronica continued. "Like last time, you know? But yeah."

"Basically, word has gotten around that you dumped your pity project Chester and went back to Tony, but then you had a fight with him and he dumped you, so you slept with a few of his friends to get back at him, and now you're pregnant, but you don't know whose it is, so you've come running back to Chester, who's forgiven you and is probably going to claim the baby is his." Veronica said this all in one breath as Francie's face became more and more horrified.

"What?" Francie was aghast, and Chester wasn't too far behind her.

"Yeah, so some people think you're doing the right thing for keeping the baby, you know, not getting an abortion and all that, and some people only care that you were a slut and slept around," Tyler interjected helpfully.

"There are three or four versions of the story floating around, but what I told you has all of the different parts incorporated into it," Veronica told her, putting a hand on her arm. "Like some say you already had the abortion, and some say you know who the father is, and you're trying to get him to marry you, or that you're trying to get money from him."

"Some are actually saying that Chester is the father," Tyler said.

"What?" Chester's eyebrows were now nearly up in his hairline.

"First of all, how would I have had time to do all of this?" Francie asked in a thin, shocked voice. "The dance was only a few weeks ago! Not even two months! That's ridiculous that I could've done all that!"

"Good, Francesca, glad you're focusing on the pertinent points here," Chester said dryly.

"I'm just saying," Francie retorted indignantly. 

"So what are the boys saying?" Chester asked curiously. "Tony and his crew? They all know none of it's true. Are they out there hotly denying everything?"

"Are you kidding?" Tyler looked from Chester to Francie, disbelieving. "No offense, Francie, but every guy in the school's been dying to nail you since, like freshman year, these guys are heroes. I think the list of guys has grown since I first heard the story first period. Everyone wants to be one of them."

"Do we have any idea where this story originated?" Chester interjected, his arm still around Francie. "I'm assuming it was with Tony himself, but is there any proof?"

Veronica and Tyler shook their heads. "Tony just says he won't say, one way or the other, which is pretty shitty, if you think about it," Veronica said, sucking down the last of her drink, making the ice cubes rattle in the bottom of the cup. 

"He's a politician's son," Francie said grimly. Chester noticed that, in addition to her chin, her voice had begun to tremble also.

"Shh, you need to calm down a little bit, kiddo," he said gently, rubbing her shoulder.

"I can't," she answered, grabbing the edge of the table as if to steady herself. "The whole fucking school is talking about me, and there's nothing I can do about it." She started to rise from the table but bumped her hip into the edge and stumbled a little bit.

"Whoa, Francie, you okay?" Tyler asked, reaching out to steady her.

"I don't know, I feel kinda weird," she admitted, reaching for his arm. "Things look kind of greenish and weird--"

Abruptly she turned into the low planter that was behind them and threw up her lunch as Tyler held her braced against his hip. Veronica hurried over and held her hair out of the way as Francie retched up her lunch, which was relatively unchanged from its brief stay in her stomach.

Chester rose as quickly as he could, grasped his crutches and came to stand nearby, hovering and watching with worried eyes as his girlfriend tossed up her insides, holding on to her two best friends.

When she finally seemed finished, they sat her back on the picnic table bench as she reached for a napkin to wipe her mouth, and a water bottle to swish everything out.

"What happened? You okay?" Chester asked, sitting next to her. Veronica and Tyler knelt in front of her.

"Everything just got to me," Francie responded. "I usually have a cast iron stomach, but this is just a little too much for even me to handle, I guess."

"Come on, you guys, let's get her to the office," Veronica suggested, gathering Francie's things, along with her own. "She needs to go home.

It was only as they were beginning to leave the courtyard that Francie noticed everyone looking at her, most of them smirking knowingly and whispering to each other, some behind their hands, some not even bothering with this small, rude, sneaky courtesy.