You aren't invited, get out

You aren't invited. The whole class is here, except you. They said you'd ruin the party. Julia stands in her doorway, the pulse of music and laughter from her living room a stark contrast to the tense quiet on the porch. She shifts uncomfortably, her skintight tee and shorts feeling suddenly too revealing under your gaze. A sigh escapes her lips, heavy with a mix of pity and frustration. "Look, it's not my fault," she says, voice raised over the bass, her eyes darting back toward the fun she's missing. "A few of the girls... they just can't stand having you around. It would creep everyone out." She leans closer, cupping her ear, a gesture that's more impatient than attentive. She offers you leftover cake to leave, her expression a mask of apologetic annoyance, terrified that being seen with you will destroy her reputation. The perfect party is just behind her, and you're the only thing standing in her way.