by Kelly Oram
Jason’s mom frowned, but didn’t ask. “My son has something he’d like to say to you.”
She glared at Jason until he muttered an apology. His “I’m sorry” was about as sincere as my “It’s fine.”
He couldn’t take his eyes off my bandaged arm. Cody had had to cut off my sleeve above my elbow in order to examine the wound, so my scars were now on full display. The fact that Jason was seeing them made me feel violated. “Looks like you got what you wanted after all,” I said. I held out my arm so he could get a really good look. “So is it true? Am I really horrifying enough to win a crown?”
I was so angry that I’d forgotten about the other scars on my wrist until Jason gasped. I followed his wide-eyed gaze to the marks left by my suicide attempt, and so did his parents. We all echoed his gasp.
I wanted to disappear. I wanted to run and hide and cry until I shriveled up and ceased to exist, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t show even more weakness now that he knew this secret about me. Instead of shrinking away in horror, I pulled up the sleeve on my other arm and let Jason see the full extent of my shame.
“Make sure you get a good look so you have lots of details to tell all your friends tomorrow. I can’t wait to hear all the witty things you guys will come up with for this.”
I shoved my wrists a little closer to him, and he flinched away from me. “Shit, Ella. I’m sorry, okay?”
This apology seemed a little more sincere, but it didn’t really make me feel any better. “You want to know why you’ve never been able to make me cry?” I asked. “Because you’re trying to tear down someone who’s already hit rock bottom. You can’t make me feel any worse about myself than I already do. You’re pathetic, Jason—you and all the other jerks in this school who have nothing better to do with your lives than pick on a cripple.”
I realized I might have gone too far when Jason’s mom gasped again and burst into tears. I was surprised that my father hadn’t tried to stop me, but when I glanced up at him he was glaring so hard at Jason that I guessed he didn’t care how rude I was. He met my eyes and placed his hand gently on my shoulder. “Ellamara, come on, honey.”
My dad steered me into the conference room as the cops nudged Jason toward the exit. There was another set of cops sitting at the conference table with Principal Johnson and Mrs. Teague. Dr. Parish and Cody were both there too, along with Jennifer and Juliette.
Once I sat down, the questions started flying. These people were all supposed to be on my side—my “support system,” as Dr. Parish liked to call them—but it felt like the Spanish Inquisition. Eventually they dragged every detail of my encounter with Jason out of me. I’d left Anastasia’s name out of the conversation, but when my father heard the bit about the costume contest he was on his feet spouting more threats.
“I thought there was a zero-tolerance bullying policy at this school! I thought the students had to sign a personal conduct code to come here! I should have this entire institution put under investigation!”
My dad whirled around and leaned over my chair, invading my personal space as if I were one of his criminals. “I want the names of everyone who’s been hassling you.”
I accidentally snorted a laugh, and my dad’s eyes flashed. “This isn’t a joke!” He pushed a paper and pencil at me. “I want their names, Ella! All of them!”
“I can’t possibly list everyone who’s been mean to me since I got here. That’s half the school. I don’t even know most of them.”
“Half the school?” His face turned a scary shade of red. “Then just give me the ringleaders. I’ll have them all expelled.”
I sighed. “If you do that, you’re only going to make things worse for me.”
“She’s right,” Juliette said, speaking up for the first time. “If you get people in trouble for teasing Ella, they’ll hate her for being a narc.”
“These kids have to be held accountable, or they will never stop!” Dad roared.
“Fine, you want a name?” Juliette snapped. “Anastasia Coleman.”
The entire room froze. Slowly, Dad stood up to his full height and turned to face Juliette. “What?”
She shrugged defiantly. “You asked who the ringleader was. Anastasia beats out anybody in this school, hands down.”
My dad’s voice was eerily calm when he said, “Is this true, Ella?”
I glared at my lap and said nothing.
“You want to know why Jason really did what he did today?” Juliette asked.
“Juliette, don’t. She’ll only start making my life hell at home, too.”
Juliette sat back and shut her mouth, but it was too late. Dad glared back and forth between us, making it very clear that we would tell him everything he wanted to know, and we would tell him now. “What did your sister have to do with what happened today?”
Juliette broke first. “You know how she dumped Jason last week? Well, he asked her if they could get back together and go to the Halloween dance as a couple, and she said she’d only do it if he got Ella to show everyone her scars.”
I sucked in a breath. I hadn’t known that.
Dad looked as if he was counting to ten in his mind so that he wouldn’t explode. After a minute he asked, “How long has this kind of thing been going on?”
Again, the question was directed at me, but it was Juliette who responded. “Since she got here, but it’s been getting worse the last few weeks.”
Everyone in the room was quiet. It felt as if we were all waiting for the axe to drop, only I had no idea whose head was going to get lobbed off. It was one of the police officers who finally broke the silence. “Well.” He cleared his throat and rose to his feet. “I believe we have all the information we need for now.”
His partner followed his cue and added, “We’ll be in touch, Mr. Coleman.”
“I don’t want to press charges against Jason,” I blurted before the cops could leave the room.
They turned around and waited for me to say more.
“What do you mean you don’t want to press charges?” Dad asked. “That boy assaulted you.” He looked at the waiting policemen and said, “We’re not dropping the charges.”
“Sir, your daughter is over eighteen. If she chooses not to—”
“I have court-ordered custody of Ellamara right now,” my dad interrupted. “I have every right to make that decision, and I damn well want to press charges.”
Both cops threw startled looks in my direction, and the room fell into its most awkward silence yet. The nicer of the two cops tried to give me a sympathetic smile as he said, “If he has legal custody, then I have to go with his decision. I’m sorry.”
They started to leave and I panicked. I lost my temper and screamed at my father. “Damn it, Dad! Stop worrying about your own damn pride for two seconds, and please just trust me for once! Please!”
My dad’s anger vanished and he stared at me, dumbstruck.
“Jason grabbed my arm—that’s all,” I continued desperately. “I know it was crappy of him, and I know you’re pissed about it, but he didn’t know what could happen to me. He didn’t mean to hurt me. I’m sure he got suspended, or whatever. That’s punishment enough. If you send him to jail or sue his family, you really will just make things worse for me. Please don’t cause me any more trouble.”
My dad recovered from his shock and pulled his face into a frown. He cast a withering glance at Juliette and she nodded vigorously. “She’s right. It’ll make things worse.”
It stung a little that Dad still needed Juliette’s confirmation and couldn’t just take my word for it, but I was glad Juliette stuck up for me.
My dad clenched his jaw and sucked in a harsh breath through his nose. “Fine,” he grunted. “We’ll drop the charges. But you had better tell me if he ever gives you any trouble, Ellamara.” He looked at Juliette and said, “That goes for you, too.”
We both nodded.
“We’ll need you to sign some paperwork,” one of the cops said.
“We’ll stop by th
e station after we’re done here.”
My dad shook the guys’ hands, and after they left Principal Johnson looked at me. “And so the question left to answer now is what do we do with you, Ellamara?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure that this school is the best place for you,” Principal Johnson said slowly.
My defenses jumped into high gear. I hated this school with a passion, but it pissed me off that they wanted to throw me out of it. “You want to kick me out? But I didn’t do anything. It’s not like I egg people on. I don’t even fight back.”
“We know that, Ella,” Dr. Parish said quickly. “You’re not in trouble. I think Principal Johnson is just concerned about you. Obviously something isn’t working here, and we need to figure out what’s best for you.”
Principal Johnson nodded in agreement. “Your parents and I believe a school for physically disabled children might be more suitable for you.”
“A special school?” Juliette cried, as horrified by the thought as I was.
Jennifer had suggested this to my dad once before. Apparently they’d discussed it more seriously than I thought. I hated the idea then, and I hated it now. “How would locking me away in a school like that help me?”
“I don’t believe it would,” Dr. Parish said. “I disagree with your parents and your principal on this matter.”
“We just want you to be more comfortable,” Jennifer insisted. “You wouldn’t be teased in a school like that. You wouldn’t be the only one with disabilities. You’d have some time to get used to your body, and maybe even make some friends.”
Dr. Parish shook her head. “That won’t help her.” She met my eyes and said, “You manage well enough physically, and mentally there’s not a thing wrong with you. Sending you to a specialized school would only be indulging your social anxiety and self-depreciation. You might find a year of reprieve, but it wouldn’t do a thing to help you in the long run. If anything, you’ll only have a harder time adjusting after you graduate.”
“But she can’t just keep going on like she is, either,” my dad argued. “You said making her go to school would help her get better, but she’s not getting any better.”
“I agree with Mr. Coleman,” Principal Johnson added. “Ella is not adapting here. She makes no effort to assimilate. She doesn’t speak to her peers. She doesn’t participate in any school clubs or extracurricular activities. In the two months she’s been here, she has only become more withdrawn.”
Dr. Parish sighed. “Would you both please address Ella directly, and stop verbally attacking her? I understand that you’re frustrated, but what happened today was in no way her fault. Remember that she is a victim here. She needs your support, not your anger.”
My eyes snapped wide open. Go, Doc! I’ve never seen anyone talk down to my father like that. I smirked at the abashed looks on both men’s faces as they felt the wrath of Dr. Parish for the first time. The woman was formidable. Maybe my dad would understand a little more now why I hated my sessions so much.
She was tough, but effective. Both my dad and Principal Johnson apologized to me, and Principal Johnson gave me a pleading look. “I know you’ve been harassed by some, but you can’t be getting it from every student here. Have you tried talking to anyone? Have you reached out to anyone at all?”
I hadn’t, and everyone knew it. I gritted my teeth, hating that he had a point. “Fine. I haven’t been making enough effort, but that’s not a reason to kick me out of school.”
“Ella, you promised me you would try to build a support system, and you’re not doing it,” Dr. Parish said. “You’re not recovering socially.”
“You wouldn’t either, if you had to deal with the crap I put up with here.”
Like always, Dr. Parish was unfazed by my snark. “If you’re so unhappy here, then maybe we should transfer you somewhere else. I think you were right about public school being a more suitable environment.”
Too bad Dr. Parish hadn’t been there at registration. “It’s too late for that now. I don’t want to transfer again. I hate it here, but at least I know it now. What if I switch schools and the curriculum is different? I’m already a year behind.”
“Then how can we help you? Your depression is getting worse. You’ve said as much in your sessions many times.”
Everyone in the room frowned. They looked disappointed in me, as if I were letting them all down on purpose. It made me so angry. “Of course I’m depressed!” I shouted. “You would be too if you had to live my sucky life! It’s hard enough just to get out of bed every morning!”
That was the wrong thing to say. The adults in the room exchanged so many knowing glances, it was as if they had an entire conversation in their minds. “Richard,” Jennifer pleaded quietly, “it’s time.”
“Time for what?” Principal Johnson asked. I was glad he did because I wanted to know what she was talking about, but I was too scared to ask myself.
My dad looked at me with a beaten expression. “Ella, sweetheart, we’ve been worried about you for a while. You’re not getting better, not adjusting, and I don’t know what else I can do for you. I think maybe it’s best if we send you to a place where you can get the help you need.”
I stared at him, bewildered. I didn’t think it was possible that this man could hurt me any more than he already had, but his words lanced my heart with a pain so sharp it took a minute to feel it. “You want to send me away?”
“I just want to help you.”
I glanced from him to Jennifer. She’d been the one to suggest it. Her voice had sounded desperate. I shook my head. “You want to get rid of me. You both do. You’ve never wanted me.”
My dad swallowed. “You’re sick, honey. You need help before you do something to hurt yourself again.”
I sighed. It always came back to this. No one was ever going to let me live that down. “I’m not going to hurt myself. And I don’t want to go to a hospital. I won’t. You can’t make me.”
My dad’s face filled with pity. “I can make you, Ella, and I will if it’s best.”
“But I’m not suicidal! I swear!” I sent an accusing glare at Dr. Parish. “You know I’m not! Tell him I’m not going to kill myself!”
“I know you’re not,” Dr. Parish said, and then repeated it to my father. “I don’t believe Ella is in danger of hurting herself.” I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful she’d backed me up, but then she pinned me with a serious look. “I know you’re not suicidal, but I agree that some time in a hospital might be a good idea for you.”
“What?”
“Ella, it’s not a negative thing. You’d be surprised what a little time in a controlled environment could do for you. Wouldn’t you like the help? Don’t you want to feel better?”
To my horror, I started crying. “I don’t want to go to a mental hospital and have one more thing for people to make fun of me about. I don’t want to be cut off from the world again. I don’t want to fall even more behind in school. Please don’t make me.”
The room was quiet except for the sound of my sniffles. Principal Johnson handed me a box of tissues. I didn’t expect anyone to give me a chance—my hope had already been smothered—but my father spoke up. “All right, honey. If you don’t think it’s a good idea, then I trust you.”
I pulled the Kleenex away from my eyes and blinked at my dad. “Y-you do?” He was the last person I would have expected to come to my defense.
My dad met my gaze with a silent apology. “Yes, I do.” He turned his attention to Dr. Parish and Principal Johnson. “A lot of this is my fault. I need to trust her judgment more. If I had just listened to her in the first place about attending public school, we probably wouldn’t be having this trouble.” My dad turned his attention back to the others. “Is there anything we can do to keep her in school and out of the hospital?”
I took a deep breath, but my lungs refused to release it as I waited for my fate to be decided.
“I would feel bett
er if Ella agrees to start meeting with me every other day instead of once a week, for now,” Dr. Parish said. She gave me a stern look and added, “And we don’t want your depression getting any worse, so for the time being you shouldn’t be alone. Your bedroom has to be off limits except for sleeping, and even then you have to keep the door open at all times. You also have to make an attempt to integrate more with your stepfamily and the kids here at school. No more keeping to yourself. Find someone to eat lunch with. Make friends.”
“You could join a club,” Principal Johnson added hopefully. “The other students need to see you making an effort to be social. You might be surprised how many kids are simply intimidated by the situation. I’m sure there are some who would be friendly if you broke the ice first.”
“Maybe if Ana would let them,” Juliette grumbled under her breath.
I doubted it, but if joining a club would keep me out of a depression clinic, then I’d figure something out. Maybe they had a book club or something, or I could write for the school paper. That wouldn’t be so bad. The no-bedroom thing was going to suck, though. After a few weeks of that, I might just be begging them to lock me away.
“Do we have a deal, Ella?” Dr. Parish asked.
“What if I can’t? What happens if nothing changes?”
I jumped when a hand reached for mine. I looked up to find my dad smiling at me. “It will,” he promised. “We’ll get through this together, okay?”
He sounded so warm and full of confidence that I didn’t know how to respond. I stared at him like an idiot.
“I know you don’t believe me, Ellamara,” he said, speaking softly now, “but I do love you. I want you to be happy. I want you to feel comfortable in my home and with my family. I’m sorry my daughter has been making that difficult for you. We’ll make sure that stops, and maybe for now you could just start spending some time with me before you worry about Jennifer and the girls. You’re my daughter, honey. I’d like the chance to get to know you a little.”
He smiled at me again, and it was the first time since our reunion that I felt he was looking at me like a father. I could see worry, but also pride. He was looking at me as if he knew me, as if I wasn’t a stranger or someone he was afraid of, but someone he really cared about.