Chapter Thirty-Five: Sunny

4/11

I did it. I told someone. I never though that it would be so difficult to make my mouth move. I've always been able to talk a good game, but today was brutally honest. In more ways that I could have even imagined.

I went over to Ducky's house after school. Not that I had gone to school. I haven't skipped so much school in a row before. So far Ducky was the only one who seemed to have noticed. Was I really that forgettable? Or in my blindness had I just shoved everyone away? I'm lucky that Ducky cares so much.

I was sitting on his front porch. I'd only been sitting there for about ten minutes (And wondering if it was possible that Ducky had to work and wouldn't be home until after dark) when he pulled into the drive. He barely took the time to turn off the engine, he got out of the car so far.

"God, Sunny, you're okay!" he exclaimed, scooping me into a giant hug.

I wanted to tell him that I wasn't okay, but instead I said, "I left you a voice mail."

"Three days ago! 'Hi, Ducky, I'm fine,' doesn't equal a reasonable response. I didn't have to worry about your current life status, but worse! Why in the world you were hiding in your room for the past two weeks."

"Oh, that. Can we go inside?"

"Sure." Ducky unlocked the door and we went in. "You want something to eat?" The way he was looking at me made me guess that going downstairs at two in the afternoon for carrot sticks and eating nothing else had taken its toll. I knew that my jeans felt loose and I was developing bags under my eyes, despite the fact that I slept more now than ever.

"No, thanks," I replied. I wasn't hungry. "I just need to talk."

"Okay." Ducky's face was increasing in worry. He motioned for me to sit on the couch. I did, and he sat next to me. "What's up?"

The way he said it, all full of concern and understanding, it was all I could do not to cry.

"I have a confession," I said. "I... oh God..."

Ducky didn't say anything. His mind was probably thinking a million different things. Maybe what he was thinking was so much worse. Maybe when I told him, he would laugh it off. Laugh and say something like, "That's all? I thought you killed someone, the way you're acting!"

Okay, I didn't really believe that. I just didn't want Ducky thinking awful things about me.

"Whatever it is," he said, "you know I'll still love you."

That was it. I started crying. For probably ten minutes, I bawled and Ducky held me, not asking questions. Finally, before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "I slept with Mr. Rutherford."

Ducky did my a favor by not trying to mask his shock. The look on his face, however, was surely one I wouldn't forget easily. For a split second I though he was mad at me, but that passed when he hugged me again. Ducky may not say much with how he's feeling, but sometimes he doesn't have to. At that moment, I could just feel his love.

When I had calmed down a little, Ducky asked me, "How did it happen?"

I wasn't being accused, and I was even glad, no matter how much I hated him, that Lew wasn't being accused. If I thought about it too much, I'd stop talking. So I started all the way back at Halloween, I told the story. I didn't think. I babbled. Ducky didn't stop me or ask questions. He understood that if he asked a question, he'd never hear the rest.

When I got to the end, that last night with Winnie and Lew, Ducky's face of shock and understanding changed to shock and anger.

"And... And that's it. I screwed Vista's biology teacher and now I'm paying the price. Utter emptiness and total shame that's kept me at home for the past two weeks." I leaned against the cushions of the couch. "But I guess that's what he wanted. A stupid whore."

Ducky, who hadn't really said anything, and was just absorbing information, said in a low, even voice, "You know, Sunny, you're going to have to report him."

"No," I said, sitting up straight. "I can't. I just can't."

"Why? Are you worried about your- did he threaten your grades?"

"No, nothing like that. I've made A's all year. I could fail every test for the rest of the year and still pass."

"Sunny, if you're worried about your reputation, it's just high school. It will be over one day."

"It's not that either, since my reputation is already crap. Though, do you think he zeroed in on me because of my reputation? You know, see if it's true, see if does put out? It took a freaking diamond necklace, and that definitely says I'm a whore. And who do you think he paid for it? Teachers don't make a lot of money? Do you think it's even real? Or maybe he bought in advance from some guy out of the back of a truck. Or-"

"Why then? What is it?"

I felt my stomach squirm. I didn't want to say it. If I said it out loud, it was like everyone, not just Ducky, would know. I took a deep breath. "If I report him, I'll have to tell my dad. And... I just don't want him thinking badly of me. I don't want Dad to know that I'm a whore."

"STOP SAYING THAT!"

I don't think I've ever heard Ducky raise his voice in anger before. Especially to me.

I stared at him, my jaw was probably dropped. "What?"

"That word! Sunny, you're not a whore, you're a victim!"

I should have gone along with that. It made me look good. However, it wasn't honest. "Ducky, don't you know me by now? I searched him out just as much."

"It doesn't matter! He's an adult, he's your teacher. Not only is the entire situation completely wrong because he's an adult, that's a total betrayal of the kind of trust you're supposed to be able to have with teachers. He should be in jail right now. You have to report this!"

Suddenly, I felt angry. I jumped up. "You are such a hypocrite!"

He sort of did a double take. "What?"

"Oh, something bad happens to me, I have to tell everyone. But you get your ass kicked in the locker room, you get your car vandalized, and you just roll over and take it, heaven forbid you tell someone! Isn't it the same thing? Aren't we just letting ourselves be victims?"

"Bullies happen everyday in schools across the country.," Ducky replied, sounding a little bit too calm. "And any gay kid, or any kid, that it happens to knows that reporting it will just make the situation worse. They'll just come on stronger, with more of them. But teachers sleeping with students doesn't happen all the time. Or at least we don't hear about it. Maybe it does. Maybe there are a million kids out there who are too afraid to tell. Who knows how many underage girls he's slept with that are too afraid to say something. Too afraid of what people will think of them. Maybe they were told that it was their fault for, I don't know, wearing skirts and having breasts, that they brought it upon themselves, that they let themselves get screwed. And now they're too afraid to say something, and that lets it happen again and again."

"So if I don't tell, if I let everyone knows that, I am, yes I'm going to say it, yes, I'm whore, then it'll stop it?"

"If it happened once, he's done it before, or he's going to do it again. What do you think the chances are he really loved you? That he wanted you for more than just the sex and the naked photos with his sister? Do you think for a second that if he loved you, you'd be feeling this way? That you'd be too ashamed to leave your room for half a month?" Ducky was on his feet too.

I think I was crying. If I was, Ducky was too unleashed too even feel bad about it. In fact, I think he was crying too. But I was too pissed to feel bad about that.

"I never said that!" I yelled. "I never said that he loved me. I never thought it. I'm not stupid and delusional, I never thought that he was my boyfriend, and that we'd live happily ever after. I knew it was temporary. I just... didn't think it would end like this!"

"Obviously, you didn't think! You never think!"

It was like he slapped me. I actually put my hand to my cheek, to make sure he hadn't. For a second there, I was too shocked to be angry. However, Ducky wasn't done.

"And I never said that it wasn't your fault too. Why do you think you keep doing this? You give some random guy a blowjob at a club in exchange for a few drinks, you fuck your teacher for a diamond necklace. Really, Sunny, I don't think it was for any of those things. You spent two weeks locked in your room and do you know what your father asked me? He asked me how you were doing. Like I'M supposed to know!"

"So it's his fault," I said. "For being a shitty father."

"God, Sunny, I haven't been in the same room with my parents for over a year now. Do you see me sucking cock between classes?"

"Well, maybe I'm not as holy as you are. All bow to saint Ducky! He can cope with the fact his parents wouldn't know if he was dead! They probably wouldn't even care! At least both of your parents are alive!"

"Do NOT throw that in my face. We're all aware that your mom died and it's NOT an excuse anymore! It's not an excuse for you, and it's not an excuse for your dad. You can't play the dead mom card every time and think it's going to solve your problems. And you might make mistakes, knowing that it's a mistake, because you know your dad won't do anything about it, but you still makes choices. It's still you doing it, Sunny. Yeah, Mr. Rutherford shouldn't have even taken you out, let alone violate you at a party, screw you in his apartment, and make you do those things in front of a camera, but you still did them. You did them because you knew that your dad wasn't going to even notice. You could get away with doing it all. It's only after it started to hurt that you realized there's more than one way to get a consequence."

Now I know I was crying. In fact, I was crying so hard I couldn't stand anymore. I fell back onto the couch. I couldn't talk. I was just crying. I wanted to run away, I wanted to get of there and never talk to Ducky ever again.

But isn't that what I always do? When someone presents the truth to me, run away and ignore them? It's what I've done to Dawn. Do I want to do that with Ducky too? I didn't think so. So I stayed there (not that I had a lot of choice, since my legs felt like jelly) and I cried. Ducky didn't comfort me, though. Like he would have.

Thinking about it now, well, even at the time, it was so strange to hear Ducky yell. It so weird to see him being aggressive and confrontational. He hates confrontation. I'd never heard him use words like "cock" and "fuck" before. I guess I bring out the worst in people. I know I bring out the worst in myself.

"I'm sorry," I gasped out between sobs. "I'm so (sob) sorry."

Ducky sat down next to me and wrapped his arms around me. He didn't apologize, or even accept my apology. However, not just staring at me cry was an improvement.

I calmed down again and looked at Ducky. "Am I really victim or did I do this to myself? Did I really let this happen?"

"Sunny, you're independent," he replied. "You don't let people boss you around, you do what you want to do when you want to. You don't let the thought of people thinking you're weird stop you from what you want to do. You did everything on your own. You didn't let it happen, you made it happen."

I could feel the tears building up again.

"That doesn't make it right. He's an adult, he's your teacher, he should have known better. He shouldn't have responded to your advances in the first place. He's a pervert and should be in jail."

Somehow, that made me feel better. I wasn't totally off the hook in Ducky's book, but I was at least only getting half blame. I could deal with that.

"Ducky," I said. "I'll tell Dad and I'll report Lew. On one condition."

"What is it?"

"That you report those bullies to the school."

Ducky's face looked like he was going to protest, but then he nodded. "All right. First thing after you tell your dad."

I wasn't going to get away with anything. But at least he realized how important this was to me.

4/13

Yesterday I told Dad. Well, I was forced by Ducky to tell him. I'm not going to go over the details. I don't feel like reliving it now, or reliving it later when I reread this journal. Let's just say, for my memory's sake that Dad is angry, actually threatened violence against Lew (I have never heard my peace loving, war protesting father threaten violence against ANYONE), and called the cops.

Highlights? Dad wasn't that upset by the fact that I was having sex. Or maybe he was just shocked? Maybe he was just relieved that I wasn't pregnant (his first jump to conclusion while I stammered over my words). He didn't even seemed too overwhelmed by the information that the guy is ten years older than me, though his face was probably shocked or something, since I was staring at the floor the entire time. However, when I mentioned that Lew was my bio teacher? HIT. THE. ROOF.

So much for not reliving it.

Anyway, after that, we went to the police station, and they were like, "We can't do much without proof. It's your word against his," blah, blah, blah. I pulled the photos out of my purse (NOT when Dad was around) and you would have thought those cops were kids in a candy shop. I really feel good about my choice. They really want to take Lew out.

I just lied in my own journal.

I don't feel good.

I feel like shit. I feel lousy.

All the right reasons, right? Then why do I feel like crap?

I've done all the right moves. I told Ducky. I told Dad. We told the cops. I've confessed. But I had one last confession to go.

This morning I went to school. I felt like an outsider. I went early. There was hardly anyone there. I went to the bio room. The door was open, so I did that awkward knocking thing people do on open doors.

Lew looked up. "Sunny! Where have you been?"

I went in and closed the door. "Avoiding you," I replied.

"Why?"

I didn't answer his question. "I just came in today to tell you that at some point later, the police are going to come and arrest you. I don't know if I feel bad for you or something, going to rot in jail or what, but I just thought you should know."

"The police? What are you talking about?" Lew stood up.

"I told our little secret," I said. I looked away from his face and down at the desk. He was grading papers. We had sex on that desk before.

"Even if you did, no one's going to believe you. It's your word against mine. You're just a spoiled girl looking for Daddy's attention."

"You're right, I am just looking for attention." I looked back up at him. "But there's all those times we went away together. Receipts, proof."

"Winnie will cover for me. All she has to say is that she was with me, and you'll be run out of this school." His voice had grown cold. He didn't seemed to believe me, but he went on. "Don't you see, Sunny? I'm respected here, and nothing you're going to say is going to change that. We'll just all go on like we did before."

"Right. Speaking of Winnie, that night the three of us were all together, and she took all those photos-"

"I burned them."

"I'll bet you did," I said. I reached into my back pocket. There was one that I hadn't given to the police. I pulled it out and waved it in his face. "But you didn't get this one."

"Give me that!" Lew lunged over the desk. He then went around the desk and grabbed it out of my hand. He tried to rip it into shreds, but Polaroids don't really rip that well. "I'm going to burn this one too."

"Go right ahead, I know I never want to see it again," I said. "But it's not going to change the fact that there are four others in a folder at the police station. You can see my face, your face, and Winnie's."

"You're lying. You're a lying little manipulative bitch." He was standing really close to me now. He grabbed my wrist. I pulled away.

"Maybe. But it's not going to look good, Lew. My mom died just over a year ago and I almost failed the eighth grade. I've gotten A's in bio all year long because I fucked the teacher. I was emotionally fragile, worried about my grades, still broken hearted over my mother's death, and you took advantage of that."

"That's not true!" he snapped. "You wanted it as much as I did. You pursued me first. Anyone who knows you will know you're a little slut. The entire school knows it. You would have done anything for me. The only reason you got those A's is because you're so tight." He grabbed my wrist again, this time holding on tighter. It really hurt.

I looked him in the eyes. Those eyes, at that moment, filled with hate, but still beautiful. "You're probably right. I probably am a slut, and I probably wanted it as much as you did. And maybe I could care less about my grades and my dead mom, but none of that matters, Lew. Because I'm fifteen, you're twenty-five, and you fucked me."

He dropped my wrist and stared at me. The reality of what I said seemed to sink in. "You're lying," he said.

"Fine," I said. "Don't worry." I paused before I left. "Oh, and why didn't you tell me Lewis was your middle name? Because your first name is Archibald?" Then I went to homeroom and sat there until school started. Around 10:30, between classes, the police came in and arrested Lew. No one knows what he did, but the rumors were flying. They probably would for some time.

No one guessed. They would. When it started showing in the papers and was on the news. I don't know how big it would get. Anytime I've ever heard of teacher/student anythings, it's been national. I didn't want anyone to ever know.

Ducky reported the bullies. I was with him when he did.

Dad yelled at me for going to school. It was weird. Not only being yelled at for GOING to school, but being yelled at in general. He didn't want me there until after Lew was gone. But oh well. Its too late now.

My life is about to get really hard. Harder than it was before. Harder than it's ever been.

I know how I am when life gets hard. I hope I can handle it.