“Red-Winger”

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The Red Wings Belong to Him

Another (short) post in the series about the power of names…

I find out after everyone else. Apparently my boyfriend has been spreading rumors that we are doing it, and not only doing it, but while I am having my period. What provokes him to do this, I’ll never know.

“Hey, Red-Winger,” his friend shouts the name down the full table at lunch, and I blush, knowing it can’t be good, before I look at my boyfriend. He tries to wear a face of innocence, but I know he is guilty.

A friend takes pity on me, later, and shares the rumor with me. By now, everyone who wants to believe it is true, does. Including, of course, my two former best-friends. I can see their gloating smiles. They don’t know the truth, and they don’t want to believe it. Instead, it seems, everyone wants to believe the good-girl really has gone bad.

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