L
"You wanted to see me?" I poke my head into Principal Rafferty's office.
"Yes, Lisa. Come in and shut the door, please."
I take a seat in the faded black fabric chair. My master's degree should alleviate the stress of sitting across from a principal, but it doesn't. It still gives me flashbacks of my high school days.
She takes her time finishing up something on her computer. Then she signs a few papers and sets them on the top file on the corner of her desk before returning her attention to me. Clearing her throat, she interlaces her fingers, resting her hands on her desk. "How would you describe your relationship with Jennie Kim?"
Oh. Fucking. Hell.
My stomach coils while my lungs constrict.
"Relationship? I'm her guidance counselor." I try to shrug, but my body is too rigid to even lift my shoulders. "So that would make it the same as my relationship with all my other students."
Her head bobs repeatedly in the slowest series of nods ever, like a large boat rocking in the ocean. My knee starts to bounce out of control. I rest my hand on it to steady my nerves.
"Why do you ask?" I try the proactive route. The what's-the-problem-because-I-have-no-idea-what-you're-getting-at route.
She sighs, smoothing a few stray black hairs back into her bun before pushing her white-framed glasses all the way up her nose. I prefer it to the way she looks judging me with her chin down, eyes peering over the top of them.
"One of the other faculty members reported seeing you and Jennie in your blue Volkswagen van. Jennie was driving. They said she parked at the entrance to her family's estate, and you both got out and went through the gates together … holding hands."
Holding hands … Holding hands … Holding hands …
Her words echo like we're at opposite ends of a long hallway with tall ceilings. My pulse pounds in my ears, and the past I can't escape whispers, "You're a fuckup. A selfish child who never thinks of anyone else. You can't undo this."
"She rides horses at my family's ranch. My dad's in a wheelchair. He befriended her. They both have tragic pasts. He's a relentless old man who won't take no for an answer." I refuse to make up a story that's not true, so I take the high road, even if it's more of a tightrope.
"He found out that she never took driving classes because of her accident, and he insisted I teach her how to drive. I know it was wrong, but not starting an argument with my father who will never walk again and who's battling cancer…" I find that shrug that I couldn't find earlier "…it seemed like the lesser of two evils."
Principal Rafferty blinks several times. "You weren't holding hands?"
"We were. She wanted to show me where …" I hate this. Jennie's secrets aren't mine to share with anyone, but I'm trying to protect her—protect us.
"Where what?"
"Where she once tried to commit suicide."
Gail flinches.
"I didn't feel right about going onto her family's property uninvited by her parents. She—being Jennie—grabbed my hand and persuaded me to go with her anyway."
She steeples her fingers, resting her chin on them. "I should have warned you about Jennie. She's had issues for years, even before the accident. They've just been more extreme since it happened. Every guidance counselor before you knew her quite well. Her family has contributed a great deal to this school. But we can't show favoritism.
"However, navigating her chronic pain and emotional issues is a very unusual and delicate situation. If I'm honest, I really just want to see her walk across the stage, get her diploma, and …" She exhales.
"No longer be your responsibility?"
Gail gives me a regretful smile. "Yes." She clears her throat again, straightening her back. "I don't want this to get out. Nothing about Jennie Kim is black and white. I'm not firing you … yet." She raises her eyebrows in warning. "I'll deal with your colleague who reported you. And while I like you and I want to trust you—I don't trust Jennie. She's clearly fond of your company, and that's just something we can't have. So …"
She stands, resting just her fingertips on her gray industrial desk. "Mrs. Bateman will take over Jennie's schedule and all of her other guidance needs. I will talk to Jennie and her parents, strongly suggesting they find someplace else for her to enjoy her equestrian hobby, as well as finding her an actual driving instructor."
I don't respond because I have no clue what I'm supposed to say. All I can do is keep blinking, hoping that eventually I will awaken from this nightmare I call my life.
"In the meantime …"
I glance up at her.
"I suggest you not give her so much as a second glance if you pass her in the hall. Are we perfectly clear on this?"
"Perfectly," I murmur.