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She gathers him in whispers, and stolen glances across the cafeteria.
Black jeans and black tattoos and he’s a drug dealer, rumor has it.
The more Chrissy hears, the less she knows for sure, because she sees him laughing so loudly, dancing atop of tables, and playing games with the new nervous freshmen, Eddie cannot possibly be mean and scary.
having heard whispers behind her own back, about her short skirts and bright eyeshadow and bimbo status, she’s come to doubt the accuracy of the distant observer.
Maybe if she got closer, met him, she could condemn, but not before.