I unzip my hoodie and readjust the top underneath. It's a white tank top that's tight at the top but loose at bottom and flows when I spin. My eyes droop from the late nights I spent sewing the lace edges. 
I throw the hoodie in my locker, Julian appearing behind me. He's out of breath like he ran a marathon but he only lives ten minutes away. 
    "I'm actually going to kill my brother," Julian says, looking around frantically for Alex. I offer him a few sympathetic pats as he moans about Alex turning off his alarm. Julian has been my friend since our moms met in baby yoga. He's also the only person I knew when I transferred from my old private school to the neighborhood's public one. His hazel eyes refocus on me once he's realized his brother is already in class.  "Oh, also some short brunette cornered me, she wants to see you in the bathroom," Julian says, a pinch of worry in his eyes.
I glance towards the bathroom, the pale yellow tiles of the doorway beckoning me. "Wish me luck, I guess," I say, stepping towards the entrance. 
    "Make an eagle noise if you need help," Julian yells as I walk inside. 
Shira's inside waiting for me. I may be new but I know Shira. Short, whiny, always has a cult-like group of friends standing behind her. I can tell from her squinty eyes and pinched mouth that she's not inviting me to a slumber party. She grabs my arm, her hand cold.
    "I've never had a problem with you," she says. "But you don't get to walk in halfway through the year and steal my boyfriend."
    "Wait, what?" I say.
    "Ian said Ryan was making out with a new girl at a party last weekend." Her grip tightens.
    "I-i what? No—" I sputter, her glare stopping me. 
    "And who else except for the girl who walks around every day with her boobs hanging out of her shirts practically begging for attention?" Shira releases my arm, bright white marks left from her hand. She lifts her phone—snap—and takes a picture of me as I lunge away. I can tell my cheeks are flushed, my hair is frizzy, and I quickly pull up the strap of my top.
"Leave my boyfriend alone," she sneers, walking out of the bathroom. My head hurts. I stumble dizzily into the hall, not sure what just happened. The few students around me don't pay me any mind as I walk to my next class in a daze. 
The class passes quickly. I'm too busy picking at the loose ends of my shirt to pay attention. The bell rings again and everyone files out of the classroom for lunch. 
When I reach the cafeteria everyone looks up. It feels like a scene from a movie. The pointing, the whispering, the laughing. I pull my shirt up, acutely aware of how low it hangs. I decide I can't do it. I turn and walk. I walk and walk until I get out the door and back to the darkness of my basement. I'm glad nobody's home. My baskets of fabric lay looking so innocent, just little strings of cloth. They sit next to my sewing machine, bright blue and dented from years of work. I stare at it, hating myself for creating this top. 
I open up my phone and find out why everyone was whispering about me. The picture Shira took is already up, captioned: girls watch out. she's already stolen my boyfriend. don't let yours be next. 
Texts start piling in from people I've never talked to before. I've never seen so much hate. I take staggered steps to the couch, holding down my lungs, my breaths barely making it out. I press do not disturb.

The next day I return to school, covered up by my dad's bulky hoodie. It doesn't do much to disguise me. I have girls asking me what it was like kissing Ryan Scott. I don't know how to tell them they're wrong so I push past them. I see Ryan's friends patting him on the back. I hear snippets of conversations as I walk.
    "I can't believe her parents were letting her go to school like that"
    "Did you hear that she's already had sex with like thirty guys?"
    "Her body's literally the only thing she has going for her."
I don't mention to anyone that I haven't even had my first kiss yet. 
When I round the corner to my locker, I find Julian leaning against it, unbothered by the flood of kids around him. He looks up as I approach, his eyes lighting up.
    "Hey, I've been so worried about you. Are you good?" he asks, laying a hand on my shoulder. 
    I give him a shrug and a weak smile.
    "I hate these kids," he says. "Similar thing happened to my brother last year when they found out he was gay. No one talked to him for a month."
    "Well, I guess I only have 30 more days to go" I say as two girls, their blond hair swaying in unison, walk past us, casting glances in my direction and turning to whisper to each other. 
    "Hey! Wait stop," Julian yells, running up to the girls, whose blue eyes open in fear. "Guys listen, she didn't make out with him. Haven't your parents taught you not to believe everything you see on the internet? Do you believe it just because she has better style than both of you?" Julian says, peering down at them. They whimper and scamper off, leaving Julian looking smug. 
"See, two more girls on our side now," he says, pumping his fist. 
    "Um, okay.." I say with a laugh, "They seem very dedicated."
    "Oh also, you never did the eagle call!"
    "I was busy freaking out!"
    "But eagle call first so we can freak out together!" Julian says, and I laugh, leaning into him.