Collide

by J. C. Hannigan

  "We'd like for you to come down to the station and answer some questions," Officer Hudson said, after a moment of awkward silence.

  "I want to call someone."

  "You're not in trouble, Harlow," Mr. Osborne told me. "We want to help you."

  "I don't need help," I blurted out. "Everything is fine." Even as I said it, the tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I was terrified for Iain, terrified about what we had done. I loved him, and I didn't want him to get into trouble. Everything certainly was not fine.

  "Let's just go to the station," Officer Turner said stiffly. "You can call whoever you need on the way."

  I opened and closed my mouth. It seemed like I had no choice but to accompany them to the police station. I followed them out of the school, thankful that class was in session. As it was, the few students that were roaming the halls stopped to stare openly as I walked by, being led by two police officers. Officer Hudson had his hand on my arm, gently yet firmly leading me, while Officer Turner stayed silent and stony faced. I was losing hope in the situation with every passing minute.

  In the back of the police cruiser, I had time to reflect upon the situation I now found myself in. It was undeniable that Iain was arrested, or would be shortly. I wasn't clear on the details yet, but I knew that if I was being called in to the station to give a statement, that things weren't good for Iain.

  "This way, please," Officer Hudson said gently, leading me down the pale yellow hallway to an interrogation room. He held the door open and I walked in, noting the room was void of everything but a table, four chairs, and a two-way mirror. Fear clenched its fist around my heart.

  "I want a lawyer," I demanded, crossing my arms and refusing to walk forward at all. "I refuse to give a statement until I have a lawyer present."

  Officer Hudson and Officer Turner exchanged a look with one another. Officer Turner sighed, nodding his head once. "Okay, we'll call one. Have a seat for now."

  I walked inside the room, my legs shaking, and sat heavily down in one of the plastic chairs. The officers closed the door behind me, leaving me in the interrogation room.

  I knew I wasn't in trouble, that my request for a lawyer seemed odd. I didn't want my statement to get Iain into any more trouble. I didn't want to confirm anything that would incriminate him.

  I sat in the chilly interrogation room for nearly fifteen minutes. A quick knock came at the door before it swung open. Officer Turner walked in alone, holding a file in one hand and a can of Coca Cola in another. He tossed the file down, sitting across from me, and set the coke down in front of my hand. I stared at it, not making a move to touch it. He stared at me for a solid five minutes before I grew uncomfortable.

  "Where is Mr. Bentley?" I asked, my voice trembling. Officer Turner tipped his head slightly.

  "He's in another interrogation room," he answered.

  "Why?"

  "I'll cut to the chase, Harlow," Officer Turner sighed, leaning forward. "Iain is facing charges of sexual exploitation."

  "But it wasn't…" I trailed off, clamping my mouth shut when I realized I'd nearly confirmed the allegations.

  "I want to see a lawyer," I insisted again. I was beginning to feel like a broken record. My voice was scratchy sounding, dry and itchy.

  "The lawyer is on the way," Officer Turner said. "Did you want us to call your parents?"

  "I figured you would have already," I retorted, surprise flashing across my face.

  "You're 18," Officer Turner reminded me. I snorted.

  "Then no, I don't want to call my parents." I rolled my eyes. The last thing I needed was Mom and Larry blowing in here. Mom with her tears of guilt and Larry…I froze, realizing that Larry was a Catholic School Board member.

  "He already knows," Officer Turner said, nodding once, as if he knew where my thoughts had taken me. "The school board has been notified of the charges, naturally."

  "He's your friend," I shot back. Officer Turner looked taken aback, surprised that I knew that information, and even more angry about it.

  "I'll be back when the lawyer gets here," was all he said in response. He stood up, leaving the room with quick steps. I stared down at the can of Coke. Condensation had formed. I was desperately thirsty, but I didn't want to drink anything that the police provided me with. I couldn't help but feel as if they were the bad guys. They arrested Iain, and now they were going to charge him with sexual exploitation.

  Nearly two hours later, I left the police station. My mom opened the passenger door to her car, and I slid in wordlessly. She'd picked me up when I called her, my voice oddly calm and my eyes dry. The lawyer they had called sat with me while Officer Hudson and Officer Turner asked me questions. She was a tall, willowy brunette with her hair pulled back into a tight bun. She looked every bit a lawyer.

  She'd told me my best bet was to explain that Iain and I had been friends. After all, there was no proof of a physical relationship.

  I didn't know if my statement would help or hinder Iain, and I couldn't draw my thoughts away from anything else.

  "Larry is at home," Mom warned, pulling into our driveway. I'd been silent the whole drive there. I didn't say anything in response. I just unbuckled my seat belt and went inside meekly.

  Larry was waiting in the sitting room, tapping his foot furiously on the floor. He stood up when the door opened, making his way to the foyer. The look of anger on his face shocked me, and I took an involuntary step back, bumping into my mom.

  "When I found out this morning that one of the teachers in my high school was having an inappropriate relationship with a student, I was livid," Larry started, his voice full of controlled anger. He paced into the kitchen, unable to remain still. "When I found out that the student was my daughter, I was enraged."

  "Step-daughter," I corrected automatically. Larry sent a look that silenced me.

  "Then when your mother told me that you were willingly having a relationship with this teacher, I came very close to snapping," Larry continued, putting the counter between us. He placed his wide palms on the top of the marble slab counter, his face red with anger. I kept my mouth shut, unable to speak. "How could you have been so stupid and naïve, Harlow?" he bellowed, spit flying from his mouth.

  "Larry," Mom warned, stepping forward and reaching her arm out to me.

  "And you," Larry turned to look at my mom, his face full of hurt. "I can't believe you knew about it and didn't tell me when it was happening so we could stop it."

  "It ended," Mom argued, her brows creasing in anger. She put her hand on my shoulder, as a show of support.

  "Regardless," Larry waved his hand, as if that detail was miniature and unimportant, and I suppose it was.

  I opened and closed my mouth a few times, willing the words that sat on the tip of my tongue to spill out. We love each other, we're in love, but they didn't. They remained frozen on the tip of my tongue. I realized how naïve that sounded, how foolish.

  Larry looked at us one last time, then he sighed heavily. "Now I have a huge mess to clean up. I'll be home late," he added. He came back around the island, grabbing his coat and keys as he walked. Neither Mom nor I turned around to watch him go.

  Chapter Seventeen

  In the week after Iain's arrest, the newspapers blew up with news reports of the charges laid against a local Catholic High School teacher. They all painted Iain in a sick light, as if he was a predator who needed to be locked up.

  Worse were the allegations being made by other students. The newspapers didn't release the names of the supposed victims, but said that several female students had come forward, saying that Mr. Bentley had "made sexual advances on them." The moment I read that in the paper, I ran for the bathroom to vomit. I couldn't believe it. I felt a tiny seed of insecurity, but in my heart of hearts, I knew it wasn't true. Our relationship hadn't been the sick, Lifetime drama that the newspapers and the town painted it. I spent the week after the arrest hiding out at home. I refused to go out, especially after my ten-second attempt at
school the day after. I couldn't handle the gossip from my classmates, or the looks of pity I attracted from every single person over the age of 30.

  Despite the fact that the newspapers hadn't released my name, my photo was still all over the Internet. Larry was desperately working to get it removed, so it wouldn't taint my future academic career. As it stood, I would have a week of testing to prove that my grades were earned by my intelligence and not by Iain's bias. It was both insulting and ridiculous, but I had no choice but to go through with it so that my acceptance at all the universities I applied at would still stand.

  "It's not true," I spat out to Larry over a very strained dinner one evening. Mom had attempted at bringing us back to a normalized state, but I couldn't handle the stony silence Larry was in. The trial had already started, the school board had gotten a very good lawyer and were proceeding in pressing charges against Iain for sexual exploitation and inappropriate behaviour toward minors, and the story about more alleged victims had appeared in that morning's paper. "There are no victims. Iain and I are in love."

  Larry looked as if he was having a hard time swallowing the forkful he'd put in his month. His eyes narrowed, staring at me while he took a sip of his water to clear his throat.

  "I don't want to hear about it," he warned me, waving the fork at me. His face started to flush with anger. "Not another word about this, Harlow, and I mean it."

  Mom gave me a pleading look, willing me to hush. I knew she was desperate for a night of normal, but I couldn't stomach it. I stood up, pushing my chair back angrily. I glared at them before I walked toward the front hall. I pulled my boots on, grabbing my car keys and jacket and fleeing out of the house before either of them could stop me. I didn't know where I was going to go, but I had to get out of the house.

  I drove to the lake. At the beginning of May, nobody was really there. It wasn't warm enough to hang out at the beach at night, not yet anyway. I put the car in park and started to cry, my head buried in my arms on the stirring wheel.

  At first, I had thought that Iain would somehow contact me, maybe through his lawyer or something. I thought he would have me speak at the trial about how we were in love, but I hadn't heard a thing from him, or his lawyer. I wasn't involved in the trial, I couldn't even watch the proceedings. The court room was closed to the public.

  I knew, from reading the newspapers, that there was only a couple more days left in the trial. The jury was supposed to reach a decision by the following Thursday. I also knew that the Catholic school board wanted to have this "ugly scandal" dealt with as quickly as possible, so the town could forget about it.

  My phone started to ring, breaking me from my sob fest. I grabbed it, looking at the screen before clicking answer.

  "What?" I demanded harshly, hiccuping.

  "Where are you, Harlow?" Jenna sighed.

  "At the lake," I replied, too exhausted to deflect her. Besides, I felt like I needed company.

  "I'll be there in ten," Jenna promised, hanging up. I dropped the phone back on the passenger seat, wiping the tears from my eyes as I looked at the landscape. The sun was just setting over the lake. I stared at it without really taking it in, my eyes blurred with fresh tears. I didn't bother wiping them away.

  Ten minutes later, Jenna tapped against the passenger window of my car. I hit the unlock button and she slid inside, closing the door behind her. She stared at me with her wide blue eyes. She looked a lot better than the last time I'd seen her, then and again…that had been in the hospital, the day I'd run into Iain, the day before his arrest. She wore her hair in a casual braid down her back, with a headband pushing her fringe back. She looked healthy and happy.

  "I'm sorry," I apologized.

  "For what?" Jenna demanded, her face clouding with confusion.

  "For not being there…" I explained, rolling my eyes. "I kind of ditched you."

  "I understand," Jenna waved her hand impatiently. "That's not important. Are you okay?"

  "No, not really, no," I answered honestly, laughing bitterly. "I thought he'd call…or find a way to reach out to me…or something."

  "Maybe he's not allowed," Jenna offered, shrugging.

  "This is all my fault," I moaned, burying my face in my hands as fresh tears poured from my eyes. It was the first time I really allowed myself to cry.

  Jenna rubbed my back, keeping silent for a few moments as she thought about what to say. Finally, she sighed. "It's not just your fault. He knew better. He should have never…encouraged it."

  "We both couldn't ignore the pull." I sniffed. "He made me feel so alive, and honestly…I haven't felt that since Lauren died. I needed that."

  "Lauren?" Jenna asked, looking confused again. I froze, realizing that I hadn't once told her about Lauren. I knew, as painful as it was, that I'd have to tell Jenna about Lauren. I couldn't keep burying it.

  "She was my best friend," I finally said. "She died over a year ago."

  "I'm sorry," Jenna said, continuing to rub my back as I spoke about Lauren, about who she'd been and about the accident that had killed her.

  "I had been walking around like a zombie, after that. Iain made me feel alive…he made me feel whole."

  Jenna bit her lip, considering her words. "You did that yourself, Harlow," she told me gently.

  "What do you mean?" I asked, looking at her incredulously.

  "I mean, you did that…not Iain," Jenna explained. "He just gave you an outlet. You let someone in."

  * * * *

  The day before the jury reached their decision, more photos came to light. The photographer had captured me and Iain in a heated embrace, in the hotel that we had stayed in during our trip to Ottawa. Iain was charged with "sexual exploitation of a minor." They couldn't prove that Iain had had a sexual relationship with the other students that had come forward, but the photos were enough to condemn him. He lost his teaching license and had to serve a year in jail. He didn't reach out to me after the trial, and I sent one letter that went unanswered.

  Attending school was difficult to do, but I had to. Jenna refused to let me sink into a hole of despair over it. She came over every single day to get me up and force me to get ready.

  "No offense, Harlow, but you've dealt with worse things than high school," she reminded me. "Besides, we only have a few months left. Don't make me go back there alone."

  In the end, I went back. I passed all of the exams that the school board gave me to test my intelligence. Jenna and I endured a lot of stares from our peers. The two of us were the most talked about girls at school. Jenna, for the rape, trial and baby, and me…for my relationship with Iain.

  The first few weeks were the hardest. Although I'd kept silent about what happened, and although Larry had succeeded in having the photos of me and Iain removed from the Internet, the rumours still swirled about the lunch room and by lockers. Students would stare openly at me, their words hissing out in quick spurts as they gossiped. But after a while, it tapered off. People started to forget, and to move on to the next big thing…our school's prom.

  I didn't want to go, but Jenna refused to take no for an answer. "I worked so hard to get back in shape for this," she told me as she dragged me from store to store at the mall, searching for the best prom dress. "You can't bail on me."

  "Just go with Jake," I begged, rolling my eyes. "I really do not want to go." Aside from Jenna and Jake, I didn't have any friends. Nor did I want to spend the night dancing with someone who wasn't Iain.

  "Seriously?" Jenna stopped looking at the dress she'd been inspecting and turned to stare at me, raising her eyebrows.

  "It's just prom," I rolled my eyes again, exasperated. But Jenna was relentless, and she wouldn't give up until I finally gave in and bought a simple black dress. Finally satisfied, she allowed me to leave the mall after she found her dress, a royal blue gown with a sweetheart neckline.

  Jenna, Jake and I went "together." Although Jenna and Jake were nearly a couple, they still did their best to make me not feel like th
e third wheel. I didn't mind going with them, especially since nobody held my interest. Nobody but Iain, that was. I still hadn't heard from him, but I had given up on trying. I knew if he wanted to reach out to me, he would. Every day that passed with him not reaching out stung, but I did my best to push through it with help from Jenna.

  Jenna even applied to several of the same universities I applied to, so that we could attend together. The two of us had formed an unlikely, unbreakable bond. Had someone told me at the beginning of the year that I would end up being best friends with one of the popular girls that had tossed me dirty looks during my first day of school, I would have laughed manically. Now, I was thankful to have her as a friend. Knowing that she'd be near me in university calmed my nerves.