Stirred Up (11 page)

Sara only nodded without looking at her. “I’m
going to be late for my next class,” she mumbled, hurrying
away.

Cheryl watched her go, her worry only
increasing.

“She seems even worse than before,” Jason
said, looking towards the door with a worried frown.

Three weeks had passed since Strippergate, as
Cheryl now referred to it with her friends, and she and Jason had
settled into a decent working relationship. They pretty much stuck
to school topics now, though.

“I know. Something’s wrong, but it could be
anything.”

“I’ve never had her in class before this
semester, but she was like a different kid at the beginning,” he
said. “I’ll mention it to the counselor.”

“I guess that’s all we can do,” she said,
letting out a sigh.

“That and keep an eye on her, try to make her
feel comfortable enough to talk to you.”

Cheryl only nodded, frustrated that she
couldn’t do more.

“You’re really worried, aren’t you?” he
asked.

“Yeah, but maybe I’m just projecting.”

“Projecting what?”

She grimaced at the memories that assailed
her at the simple question. Did she really want to tell him? They’d
been doing a good job of staying on safe, non-personal topics, and
this wasn’t something she was keen to talk about, especially with
someone who tended to judge her. Then again, how could she expect
Sara to confide in her, if she wasn’t able to tell Jason, ten years
after it had happened?

She leaned against his desk, determined not
to draw it out into a big thing. It was lunch period, but he didn’t
seem in any hurry to eat. She would just stick to the facts and get
it over with.

“I’m not saying I know what Sara’s going
through, but the way she’s been acting makes me think of how I was
after my mom’s boyfriend moved in with us my junior year. That
probably would have been rough no matter what, but not long after
he moved in, he started to...”

She trailed off, surprised at how hard it was
to actually say the ugly words. Even now it make her stomach
hurt.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to talk
about it if you don’t want to.”

He was looking at her with such earnest
concern, her nervousness seemed to melt away. As weird as things
had gotten with him, she wanted to tell him this, wanted him to
understand why she felt so strongly that something was really wrong
with Sara. Besides, he was so patient, sitting there quietly,
letting her find her way.

“I’m fine,” she said, taking a deep breath.
“At first I thought it was my imagination, but Sean always stood so
close to me, kind of crowding me and making me uncomfortable. When
my mom wasn’t around he’d ask me what kind of sexual experiences
I’d had, what I wanted to do, that sort of thing. After a while he
started doing other things. He’d open my bedroom door without
knocking and catch me undressing, then stand there and talk to me,
even when I begged him to leave.”

Jason looked horrified. “Did your mother
know?”

“At first I was afraid to tell her, and then
when I did she accused me of overreacting.”

“Jesus, Cheryl,” Jason said, sounding
pained.

“One day when she was out of the house he
stuck his tongue down my throat and grabbed my breast. That’s when
I realized I had to leave. I lived with my friend Beth’s family for
the rest of high school, and my mother never tried to get me
back.”

“No one did anything? Not even your dad?”

“My dad died when I was fifteen. Sean moved
in about a year later.”

“Fuck. That’s awful.”

“Yeah, I know. The thing is, I had a pretty
normal childhood up until then. My mother was always there for me.
But after my dad died it was like she disappeared or something. I
was angry and upset all the time then, but looking back I think she
was really lost and terrified. She attached herself to the first
guy who came along and never let go. Not even for me. As far as I
know, they’re still together.”

“I’m really sorry, Cheryl. That’s pretty
rough stuff.”

“It’s okay,” she said, playing with the edges
of his notebook. “It was a long time ago.”

“It’s not okay, but I’m glad you are,” he
said, taking her hand in his.

It was the first time they’d touched in
weeks, and a surge of warmth flowed through her.

“Seeing Sara reminds me how I was those weeks
after Sean started harassing me. I had a hard time sleeping, and I
got really depressed. I didn’t care how I looked and I barely spoke
to anyone. I also wore really baggy clothes so that I wouldn’t draw
his attention so much. Not that it worked.” She looked at him and
gave a wan smile. “But that could describe anyone who’s seriously
depressed, and who knows what’s triggering it for her?”

“Why don’t you go down and talk to Mary now,”
he suggested. “She might already know something we don’t, and if
she doesn’t, I think you’re the best one to talk to her.”

“That’s not a bad idea. It’ll make me feel
like I’m doing something, anyway.”

She felt oddly depleted, but also cleansed,
like there was more room to breathe. Then a thought occurred to
her.

“I don’t want you to think I strip because of
what Sean did to me. I mean, indirectly that is part of it, since I
was on my own at eighteen. But I don’t do it because I’m so broken
I can’t do anything else –”

“I don’t think that,” he said. “I don’t think
you’re broken. And I’m glad you found something to help you get
by.”

“Oh. Okay.”

She stood there for another second, surprised
at the turnaround he seemed to have undergone. It felt like there
was more to say, but why complicate things? They’d come to a good
place. Best to leave it at that.

She could feel his eyes on her as she left
the room, but this time she knew they weren’t hard and judging. She
headed down the hall, wondering why he was acting like the whole
stripping thing was no big deal. Not that it was his place to
decide what was okay, but obviously something had changed.

The guidance counselor, Mary Gardner,
listened to what she had to say and told her she’d speak to Sara’s
other teachers. Cheryl was just getting up to leave when Mary
pulled up Sara’s record.

“Hmm. This might be something. It looks like
she moved about six months ago, and her mother changed her
name.”

“So her mother probably got married,” Cheryl
said, leaning forward in her chair. “That’s a big change, though it
doesn’t explain everything.”

“Oh dear,” Mary said, frowning at the
computer monitor. “There’s another student here with the same name
her mother took. Tim O’Malley.”

“What about him?” Cheryl asked.

“If I’m right, then her new stepbrother is…
well, he’s not the nicest boy. He’s a senior, and he’s been
bullying other kids since he came to the school. Last year he got
suspended for shoving a girl into the lockers.”

“And that’s who Sara’s living with now,”
Cheryl said, sick at heart.

“If I’m right. I should double-check all this
so we know what we’re dealing with. I’ll have Sara come see me,
too. Maybe she’ll want to talk if I give her the opening.”

Cheryl left Mary’s office, even more worried
than when she’d gone into it. Though nothing had been confirmed,
she had a feeling Tim O’Malley was the problem. What could be worse
for a teenage girl than a horrible step-brother? The question was,
how horrible was he?

When she got back to the classroom she found
Jason eating a sandwich at his desk, a slew of tests spread around
him.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

She paced back and forth in front of his desk
as she filled him in on her meeting.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” he
said. “But you’ve done everything you could possibly do. You know
that, don’t you?”

“Maybe that’s the problem. It’s still not
good enough.”

He looked like he wanted to say something,
but bit it back.

“Don’t worry. I know I can’t get too wrapped
up in this,” she said. “I have to save myself for the decades of
misery to come.”

“Ouch. Dark much?”

“Sorry. Why don’t you give me some of those
exams. I need something to do.”

“Gladly,” he said, sliding a pile over.

Plopping herself down in one of the student
desks she lost herself in the mindless grading of multiple-choice
questions, reassuring herself that Sara was in good hands.

Her cautious optimism was short-lived,
however. Checking in with Mary a few days later, she discovered
that Sara had refused to speak to her. Feeling defeated, like she’d
let the girl down herself, Cheryl spent the rest of the day trying
not to dwell on it.

The very next Tuesday, Sara lingered after
class to ask Cheryl a question. It wasn’t much, but it was enough
to give her hope. After Sara did the same thing a couple more
times, Cheryl started giving her things to do so that she wouldn’t
have to come up with excuses. Some days it was helping to collate
handouts, others it was writing sentences on the chalkboard for the
next class to diagram. None of it took more than a few minutes, and
they spoke little, but over time Sara seemed to get more
comfortable with her.

“You know the guys talk about you all the
time. They think you’re hot, and they say a lot of nasty
stuff.”

Cheryl looked up from the quizzes she was
grading and tried not to show how floored she was.

“Does that upset you?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Sara shrugged. “I guess
so.”

“I’m sorry you have to hear that, but it’s
okay. It’s pretty typical for teenage boys.”

“Is that why you wear such lame clothes?”
Sara asked. As soon as the question was out the girl’s eyes grew
wide, horrified by what she’d said. “God, I didn’t mean…I’m
sorry…”

“It’s all right,” Cheryl said, smiling.
“You’re right. I do wear less flattering clothes on purpose. I
don’t want to draw attention to myself in that way. But obviously
that doesn’t stop boys from talking.”

“Nothing stops them,” Sara said, her voice
tight. “They do whatever they want.”

“You’re dressing differently than you used
to,” Cheryl said, her voice quiet. “Are you doing it so no one will
notice you?”

Sara was looking at the floor now, but slowly
she nodded her head.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Cheryl
asked.

She made no move, sure the girl would flit
away like a terrified bird. But as she watched, Sara’s lip started
to quiver, then her chin, and soon her whole body was shaking so
hard, nothing could stop the sounds that tore from her.

Cheryl put her arms around the sobbing girl,
her only thought to comfort and protect as Sara went to pieces.

***

Jason stopped outside his classroom, staring
in shock at the sight that greeted him. As usual he’d headed to the
teacher’s lounge ahead of Cheryl, who’d taken to hanging back a few
extra minutes with Sara. He’d only come back because he’d forgotten
his grade book.

Now he stared, dumbfounded, as the normally
silent, wraithlike girl sobbed her heart out in Cheryl’s arms. As
heartbreaking as it was, he knew enough to tell it was a good
thing, some kind of breakthrough. Not wanting to intrude, he backed
away and quietly closed the door so that no one would see inside,
then headed outside where he could think in peace.

Cheryl had done it. Sara trusted her enough
to let go. But then, he shouldn’t be surprised. Cheryl was
warm-hearted and tender, patient and determined. She was amazing.
She’d always been amazing, and he couldn’t believe he’d ruined
things between them over what she did to earn a living. She could
take her clothes off every day in front of the whole world and
she’d still be as classy and strong and smart as ever. But he’d
been too dumb to see it, too bent out of shape when his idealized
crush turned out to be a real person with struggles and demons of
her own.

He’d never stopped wanting her, but now he
realized he was still crazy about her. Which made it all the more
painful to think about the damage he’d done. It might not ever be
possible to get back to where they’d been before their fight. But
whether they did or not, he needed to be a good friend. If he
couldn’t manage that, nothing else mattered anyway.

When he got back to his classroom students
were already trickling in. Cheryl hurried in a minute later,
apologizing as she took her seat in the back of the class. There
was no time to talk, then or before the end of the day, but her sad
eyes tugged at him all afternoon.

When the last bell rang he stood out in the
hallway, keeping his eye on the chaos until everyone had filtered
out. When he returned to the room Cheryl was still sitting in the
back, staring off into space.

“Hey there,” he said, taking a seat next to
her. The urge to hug her was so strong he shoved his hands in his
pockets. “I saw you with Sara earlier. You want to talk about
it?”

“She finally broke down and told me pretty
much what we’d suspected. Tim’s been harassing her since they all
moved in together, and it’s been getting worse. After she’d cried
awhile I got her to go to Mary’s office. Mary called her mother,
and she and her husband are coming here for a meeting at five
o’clock.”

Her shoulders sagged and she looked weary to
the bone.

“That’s pretty intense. How are you holding
up?” he asked.

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” she said, waving her hand
as if that were no matter. “But my day’s not over yet. Sara begged
me to come to the meeting, and I couldn’t bring myself to refuse. I
don’t think I’ll actually have to say anything, but she wouldn’t
agree to do it unless I went.”

“She trusts you,” he said.

She only smiled, but he could see she was
torn up. Her mouth turned down the tiniest bit, and her hand shook
as she toyed with her pen.

“You did great, you know. She’s lucky to have
you. We all are.”