When Rumours Visit

I am not a fan of high school. I just don't care to know many people from that era.
As many went away to college to start knew lives like myself, there were those who stayed behind in the Long Beach area; drama and the search for gossip is what these few survived on.
These stories seemed to spread out from Long Beach, sharing the exploits of friends after high school. Example: A former crush of mine was dared to kiss a female friend in a pool. By the time the story got to me, this fomer crush was a full-fledged lesbian.
Another example: A former friend of mine, book smart/life dumb, gets knocked up by her boyfriend Clayne. Clayne, equipped with interesting onomatopoeic name, was older, not part of the high school crowd and not a terribly friendly fellow. He moved to the Long Beach area from Alaska. My former friend told me he was convicted for illegal possession of marijuana. The way the story exists today, my former friend was knocked up by a fugitive from Alaska, wanted for murdering a drug dealer.
My first rumour that ever got back to me was more of a blending of stories. Background first, I had sex with a girl when I was a senior. This was kept a secret for more than a year. Years before, she was the "first love" of my former best friend, Jesse. Second, I was sexually involved with another girl, Kiyana, who later happened to become my former girlfriend. Third, I drove my car while my former good friend held onto the door handle, skateboarding down the street. He took a spill, busted his tooth, ended up in the emergency room. I didn't go with him. I was supposed to be going home because of my parents' implied curfew. I took an alternate route home, swinging by Kiyana's place to say "Hi" and get some kisses. From there I called and checked up on my bloodied former friend.
All these stories went around at the same time. By the time they got back to me, I apparently had an eventful evening.
First, I broke my friend's tooth. I didn't go with him to the emergency room. Instead, I went to Jesse's "first love's" place to have sex with her. Since she could not satisfy my lustful appetite, I went to Kiyana's house. As far as everyone learned, I was an absolute whore...not to mention a shitty friend.

I just hung out with Nate, a co-worker, on Friday--a friend (although not a close one) from middle school, high school, and college--who happens to still have more than two friends from the high school circle. He filled me in on where people were, what they were up to, etc. After a couple beers, he shared with me a rumour he heard.
There isn't much background source for this one. But here's the rumour: I'm gay.
I had to laugh, for I've never considered myself well-dressed.
This news spread as far as an embezzelment inmate in San Quentin. Even my former school counselor, known for her Gaydar, asked Nate if this was true.
Nate and I continued talking, me sharing the truth to some of the aformentioned rumours of fellow almuni. We talked about how our high school reunion is only a year off. I thought of how I'm only good friends with one person from those years, how there are friendships I wouldn't attempt to rekindle, people I just don't need to know. Five years ago I said I didn't want to attend a reunion. Friday night I told Nate, I had no urge to. Not unless I find a truly sweet, down-to-earth guy with a stud collar.