Women whispered to each other while staring at me, but the second I looked their way, their eyes shot down. Their judging voices grew louder and more frequent. I swore I could hear my name occasionally. The women who’d taught me to crochet huddled together talking, “... Claire... slut...”
I turned to them, unable to believe my own ears. “Excuse me, did you say something to me?”
“No, of course not, dear,” one of the Barbaras answered with a condescending twist to her otherwise bright voice.
I stared at them for another stupid minute before I muttered, “I could have sworn you called me a slut,” and stomped back over to my desk.What the hell was going on here?I pulled on the sweater I kept in my desk, trying to hide away from the prying eyes.
It took me an embarrassingly long time to suspect the culprit, even though I frequently felt his eyes on me. Perhaps, I was too caught up in the email exchanges with my new friend, too besotted and turned on from the late night pictures we exchanged while we masturbated to one another to notice the obvious right in front of my face.
One morning, about two weeks after the conversation Tyler and I had as he sat his ass on my desk, I went to the break room for a cup of coffee. No one noticed me as I entered. Two of the admissions counselors, Tony and Jared, were talking and laughing boisterously in front of the refrigerator.
“... and like that...” Tony snapped his fingers, “She fucked him!” Jared noticed me standing there and his mouth dropped open in shock. He threw out his hands, trying to stop Tony from continuing, but he was on a roll.
“She tried to fuck him on the couch before they went to dinner. Can you imagine? He told her he’d be happy to show her a good time, but at least wanted to buy her a meal first,” Tony looked at Jared with stupid confusion, “What are you doing, dude?”
Several women from the office stood around them, listening. They watched me with hungry eyes, waiting for me to blow up or cry, anything to make their boring lives interesting. I didn’t care about them, and I used all my self-control to plaster a calm look on my face and leave with my head held high. It was fifteen minutes to five. I clocked out early without saying a word and went outside to wait for the bus.
Throughout the entire ride home, I told myself not to worry. Tyler lied, and all I had to do was tell everyone the truth and the matter would be behind me. I would never have friendly feelings for any of them again, but that was okay. I needed a paycheck, not friends. Well, friends wouldn’t hurt, but I didn’t need any of them. These self-righteous assholes would not make me feel like Hester Prynne without evengetting laid.
The next day, I went on the offensive. When I heard the whispers, I faced them head-on, asking what the hot gossip was. When the same group of women were chatting about ’Claire, the slut’, I walked right up to them. “You know, I didn’t sleep with him. We went on one crappy date and we didn’t even kiss. I can’t imagine why he’s lying about it, but he is.”
One of the Barbaras gave me a fake smile. “Oh, dear, that’s terrible. I have worked with Tyler for a long time and I’ve never known him to be a liar. Are you sure you aren’t misremembering one of your other dates?” Her cronies laughed at the dig.
“I’m certain.” I insisted as I ground my heel into the carpeting.
“The two of you have been awfully comfortable since you started here. Come to think of it, you’ve been a lot more comfortable than him, following him around like a lost puppy.” She shrugged her shoulders and raised an eyebrow at me like it was obvious. “Are you sure your little crush didn’t just get out of hand?”
I will not hit an old woman. I will not hit an old woman.I repeated to myself as I stomped off to my desk again. Stomping around this place was going to wear out my heels. I told every single person in that office he lied and most of them had the common decency to act as if they believed me. They were sympathetic but full of shit.
Things only got worse for me. The lie was more entertaining than the truth and entertainment was scarce in that fluorescent tube-lit shit hole. My misery gave them a renewed sense of community and togetherness. Maybe they were jealous that the years crumbled to dust behind them, along with their sexual prospects.
The little comfort I once found there faded. The open friendliness I once displayed folded up, trying to protect my remaining shreds of confidence, like a morning glory closing for the night. I did my best to carry on, arriving on time and leaving at five. I did my work and tried my hardest to tune them out.
My friend tried to email me a few times, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer.
I’ve missed our chats. Where have you been?
I missed them too, but I still couldn’t force myself to type the words and send them.
It’s quite alright if you’re not interested anymore, just let me know so I don’t worry.
I was interested, and I knew I wasn’t being fair. I didn’t want him to worry, but the words remained locked inside of me.
I won’t keep bothering you. I just want you to know I deleted your pictures. No one should look at you that way if you don’t want them to.
His last message brought tears to my eyes. This wasn’t what I wanted. Nothing was going the way I thought it would, but how could I make it right when I couldn’t even figure out what I wanted, let alone use the words to make it happen. The thought of sex sapped my joy. It was nothing more than an excuse for people to treat you like shit.
One night, I sat on the floor beside my coffee table looking through the pages of the scrapbook I never finished. Pain and shame rushed through me as I remembered how giddy this used to make me. I couldn’t fathom what I would endure if my coworkers or Tyler learned about my little stunt and the many reaching consequences. I cut the pictures out, pasting them into the pages with the corresponding text as I ordered Indian food for the first time in a while.
“Hey, Claire,” Sadar called when I opened the door. His face lit with genuine excitement to see me. The tears hovering in my eyes fell. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He reached out like he was going to touch me, but dropped his hand when I backed away. We had a friendly relationship, and I’d been his customer since I first moved out of my dorm. Him putting a hand on my shoulder wouldn’t normally upset me.
I pulled the door open wider, trying to cover the action. “Everything is fine. Can you put it on the counter?” The pitiful sniffle that escaped me ruined my bluff.
He placed my korma down slowly and I pulled the money out of my purse. “Keep the change,” I tried to hand it to him but he wouldn’t take it.
He stood there, waiting until I met his eyes. “I know it’s really not my place, but I haven’t seen you in a while and you don’t seem like you’re okay. I know we’re not that close, but if you need a friend, call me at the restaurant, okay?”
“Thanks, Sadar,” I shoved the money into his hands once more.