My eye is bruised from yesterday, but that's not the only thing that is. It hurts on the inside. Everything hurts. Re-evaluating my life brings tears to my eyes. My parents only love me because they're in love with the idea of who I'll become, not for who I am now. They say that sex before marriage is a sin, meaning a mistake, but how can love be a mistake?

I walk into school, and the first person I look for is Ashley. The thought of ranting to her makes me feel better.

"Ash," I call out, once I see her short, fluffy brown ponytail from behind, and the red stockings she usually wears, matching our uniform, which gave her away.

She turns around to look at me for a few seconds, and turns back around again, talking to another girl.

"Ashley," I say a little louder this time; people are not only looking but staring at me.

I walk her way, trying to catch her before she disappears. I grab the back of her bag when I'm close enough, and she turns around for a brief moment, sighing.

"Ash, why aren't you speaking to me?" I ask.

She stares at my bruise for a second and says, "I can't be seen with you," before walking away.

"What do you mean you can't be seen with me?"

She stops. "Look, everyone's talking about you. There are rumours circulating around you and that...that guy that keeps showing up here." She lowers her voice on that last part.

"What? What kind of rumours?"

"Well, for one thing, most of the girls here and their Christian families have been saying that you're sleeping together."

"What?"

"Not saying it's true, but I'm sorry, I have big plans to study for and things to focus on. I can't be your friend anymore. I'm sorry, Wren." With that, she walks away.

I stand there, not sure what to do with myself. "Just like that?" I ask myself.

Great. My only friend in that whole school, the only decent person from around here aside from Ethan, (who I haven't spoken to in what feels like ages from hanging out almost everyday) who completely and totally understood me, is now going against me. Some friend.

"Whatever, I don't need her," I remind myself out loud. "I've got Anthony."

♬

I'm washing my hands in the bathroom, when suddenly I hear my name in a conversation amongst two chit-chatting girls.

"Anthony Kiedis from the Red Hot Chili Peppers...he totally gave her the black eye," one curly-haired blonde says, filing her already brittle nails.

"How do you know?" a redhead asks.

"Who else could have done it?"

"I don't know, I haven't seen them together in a while."

"Precisely, they've probably broken up. Hence, her black eye."

"Oh...yeah, you're totally right. How does she even know him?"

"No idea. Well come on, we don't wanna be late for class."

I stand, still facing the facet, letting them walk behind me and out of the bathroom, not noticing I was here, listening to everything they've said about me.