She continued, “Anyway, Dante wants to do correspondence school, which his father is dead set against.” The phone rang, snatching her attention away from me.
I lifted a hand in farewell, intending on leaving her to the phone call. I turned to leave, or more accurately escape, but stopped as she called out my name.
I turned back. “Yes?”
She hung up and indicated to the principal’s office. “Isaac wants you to join the talk with Mr. Rata.”
“Why?” I asked, my panic rising again.
“He didn’t say, just wanted me to catch you before you left.”
I nodded and headed for his door. Willing my hands not to shake, I opened it, repeating in my head that Dante’s father couldn’t possibly know what I’d done, because if he did, he’d be attacking me.
I stepped into the principal’s office. One look at Mr. Rata’s hard, tattooed face made me quickly focus on Principal Sao. Isaac was standing behind his desk, looking like he was using it as a barrier to protect himself from Dante’s father.
Mr. Rata banged a hand on the desk, sending some papers scattering to the floor. “Cos you let my son down, he no longer wants to go to school!”
“He’s been pulled out by the police before,” Principal Sao said.
“Not for murder! Do you even contemplate how terrified he would’ve been? Even worse, you didn’t even bother to call me so I could accompany him.”
“I did call, but I couldn’t get a hold of you, and I am truly sorry for—”
“Your sorries ain’t fuckin’ good enough! Dante wuz all alone with cops who thought he wuz guilty. They were bloody questioning him before our lawyer even got there, assuming he wuz guilty. He’s a kid, for Christ’s sake! He needed a trusted adult with him. And I would agree with him ’bout not returning ’ere, ’specially after finding out what that big-nosed bitch did, but no other school will take him in. I also can’t home-school him. I hafta work, not to mention I failed school. Shit, the boy is a hundred times brighter than me. He’d be able to teach me better than the other way round. And as for correspondence, we both know he won’t do the assignments. And even if he did hand them in, he’s a cunning li’l bastard. He’d pro’bly talk some girl into doin’ his work for him. So, yeah, I want a personal apology to my son. I also want you to tell his class that the system let him down, and that he’s innocent of the McDonald murders.”
Principal Sao looked at me. “Can you please have a talk to your class, reinforcing that Dante has been cleared.”
I nodded.
Principal Sao returned his attention to Mr. Rata. “I will also call an assembly, stating that your son has been cleared. I won’t use his name, other than to say that the student removed by the police has no connection to Ronald’s death.”
“How are ya gonna get my son back to school?” Mr. Rata asked.
“I’ll have a talk with him. Where is he now?”
“At home, kicking shit around his bedroom, cos I yelled at him to come see you. I have someone watching him for the mo, making sure he doesn’t take off.” Mr. Rata ran a hand over his short brown hair, his expression almost mournful. “I can’t physically pick him up and bring him ’ere, no matter how much I wanna. But he has to be ’ere, not out on the streets, cos that’s where he’ll end up if you people don’t fix this mess you created.”
Principal Sao nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
Mr. Rata’s face saddened further. “Thank you. I also appreciate you believing me over that maths teacher. If she hadn’t booted Dante outta class, those cops wouldn’t have had an in to arrest my boy.”
Principal Sao nodded again. “Regardless of what your oldest said, I won’t allow Ms. Farris to return, and if I have my way, she won’t ever teach at a school again.”
Mr. Rata frowned. “What did Ash say?”
“He doesn’t think Ms. Farris crossed the line, but I’ve investigated further and believe she did. I have passed on the information to the police, leaving it in their hands. Though, I don’t think it’ll amount to anything, since you can’t prosecute someone for their thoughts—”
“What do you mean ’bout her thoughts?”
“Another maths teacher has come forward, informing me about what Ms. Farris has said about your sons.”
Mr. Rata tensed. “What has she been sayin’ ’bout my boys?!”
“Words that amounted to her bein’ attracted to Ash and how Dante looked just like him,” Principal Sao said, obviously downplaying what he’d told me so Mr. Rata didn’t blow up further. Because if the man knew what Helen had said, I could imagine him hunting her down.
“Sick bitch,” Mr. Rata spat. “That bastard drama teacher should never have defended her.”
“Ms. Farris is his ex-wife, someone he’s recently gotten back together with. He doesn’t believe what your sons have said, so I understand why he ran to her defence.”
“She’s a paedophile!”
“As I said, he thought your boys lied—”
“They didn’t!”
“I know that, but Paul didn’t. All he saw was his partner being accused of something he couldn’t comprehend her doing. Coupled with the aggressive way you were acting, he reacted. I agree it was highly inappropriate behaviour, but like you, Paul has a fiery temper. The two of you were pouring gasoline over each other’s tempers. One of you was bound to throw the first punch.”
“So you’re letting him off?” Mr. Rata said, looking at the principal in disbelief. “He attacked me in front of the whole school. I could have him up for assault charges!”
Principal Sao frowned. “Is it true what he said about you entering his house, punching him that other time?”
“No!”
Principal Sao’s lips pulled tight, his expression disbelieving. “If you have him up for assault charges, he said he’ll do the same to you. He also said his niece witnessed you attacking him.”
“He’s lying! She wuzn’t—” Mr. Rata cut himself off, giving the impression he was about to implicate himself.
Principal Sao’s expression soured, probably thinking exactly the same thing. “Unfortunately for you, he told his best friend about the attack the day after it happened. His friend confirmed Paul had a black eye and was highly upset over the incident.”
“I was there when he mentioned it to Harry,” I cut in, remembering the day well, Paul having turned up to the auditions with a nasty black eye.
Mr. Rata’s head whipped around to me, making me regret mentioning it.
I cleared my throat. “Though, he never mentioned who did it, just that it was a parent.”
Mr. Rata returned his attention to Principal Sao. “Then why am I bein’ accused if my name wuzn’t even mentioned?”
“Because he spoke with Harry further about it, and Harry isn’t the type of man to make up things.”
“That prick Aston is tryna frame me.”
“Regardless, with your record, I wouldn’t advise laying charges against Paul. You’ll be putting yourself at risk.”
“So, you’re siding with that prick?!”
“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m trying to make you see that you have the odds stacked against you. Also, as far as I see it, you both did something you shouldn’t have.”
“No, what you’re sayin’ is, you believe I assaulted him.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Mr. Rata narrowed his eyes at Principal Sao, his muscles tensing as though he wanted to strike him, the man a lost cause with trying to prove his innocence.
Principal Sao straightened to his full height, looking like he wasn’t going to back down. “If it gives you some semblance of relief, I don’t think he’ll be returning.”
Mr. Rata scowled. “He better not.”
“Whether he does or not, it’s not your concern.”
“It is if my boy is still comin’ here.”
“If that happens, I will warn Paul that he is to have no contact with Dante.”
“After what happened to his bitch of a
woman, do you think he’ll listen? He’ll blame my boy and rough him up.”
“He will do no such thing, and again, I don’t think he’ll be coming back after the talk I had with him earlier.”
Looking relieved, Mr. Rata’s gaze shifted to me. “At least this one’s good. Thanks for tutoring Dante.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, feeling bad he thought I was still doing it, Dante obviously having lied to him.
“Actually, maybe you’ll have more luck with gettin’ him to return than Sao. Dante seems to like you.”
“Sure. Bring him in after school,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’ll have a chat with him.”
“He won’t come ’ere, you needa see him at home.”
“I don’t think—”
“Don’t say no. Me and my boy live real close, it won’t take long.”
“It’s not appropriate for teachers to go to a student’s home,” Principal Sao interrupted.
I shifted my gaze to him, sending him a giant thank you with one look. His knowing eyes settled on mine, both of us thinking the same thing: this man was dangerous. Mr. Rata had served time for assault, not to mention was a known gang member. Also, with what had happened to Helen the day before, there was no way I wanted to go to his house.
“Don’t talk bull,” Mr. Rata replied. “I had teachers show up to my house when I wuz a kid, even the principal once. Granted, I lived in a small town, but at least they came. It showed they cared,” his focus shifted back to me, “like you needa show you care ’bout my son’s wellbeing. That’s your job.”
“No, my job is to educate him in literature.”
He sneered at me. “You can’t bloody do that if you don’t get him back into the classroom.”
“I still don’t feel comfortable coming to your house, but if he comes here—”
“Is this cos you’re afraid of me? I have no beef with you, so you’re perfectly safe.”
“Ah—”
“Don’t try to think up some bullshit excuse. I know your kind: all talk and no follow through. You come into this area, thinking you’re helping the kids ’ere, but you’re not. You’re just imparting useless fuckin’ info they can’t use when they’re older, and when they really need your help, you brush ’em off, cos you’re too fuckin’ middle-class-scared to turn up to my crappy low-income house. Well, fuck you.”
He stormed past me, slamming the door behind him, the wooden panel shaking in its frame.
“Don’t let him get to you,” Principal Sao said. “You were right to turn down going to his house. He’s been to prison for attacking his ex-wife and son. Don’t let him make you feel guilty.”
“He hurt Dante?” I asked, my heart sinking.
Principal Sao shook his head. “No, Dante’s older brother.”
“Oh, yes, Dante mentioned it once.”
“Though, it happened a while ago, when Mr. Rata was a drug addict. Apparently, he’s clean now, and, as you can see, is now extremely protective of his sons, Dante in particular. But it still doesn’t excuse the way he just acted. It’s good he wants Dante to go to school, but he needs to realise he can’t bully us into doing what he wants. So, unless Dante comes here, forget about what his father said. We have to think about our own safety first, and walking into a gang house is just asking for trouble.”
I nodded in agreement.
Looking worried, he ran a hand over his head. “I hope this hasn’t made you want to quit even more?”
“I’ll discuss that with you after the two-week period we agreed upon.”
He nodded. “Good, because this week is already stacking up to be hell on wheels.” He slumped down into his chair. “And thank you for coming in. I really do appreciate it.”
I forced a smile. “I’m happy to help.”
He smiled back, his smile looking genuine, just touched with tiredness.
I indicated to the door. “I better get going. I’ll let myself out.”
He nodded and switched on his computer. I slipped out of his office, closing the door behind me. The rest of the day went painfully slow, my thoughts constantly returning to Dante. So, when the home bell rang, I opened up my computer and scrolled through it, looking for his phone number. I just wanted to know if he was all right after everything that had happened the day before. One call to relieve my worry. Nothing more.
When I found his number, I went to dial through, but stopped, realising I shouldn’t contact him, especially after what had happened to Helen. It was a giant warning not to get involved, a neon sign telling me to back up fast. But I had to talk to him. He’d looked so upset, his expression still imprinted upon my mind.
I forced my fingers to key in his number, telling myself that I was just phoning to see if he was all right. I also had to apologise to him, especially after the way I was so callous about his feelings.
A woman picked up, mumbling, “Kia ora,” which was hello in Maori.
“May I speak with Dante Rata?” I asked.
“What did you say?” the woman slurred.
“Dante Rata. Can I please speak to him?”
“Sure.” She hollered. “Dante, phone!”
I moved the receiver away from my ear, grimacing at the woman’s volume.
“Oi! Dante! Phone!” she hollered again. “Don’t tell me to fuck off, just come get the damn phone.”
Dante’s voice came over the line, “I have one in my room, you stupid bitch.”
“Watch your mouth,” the woman snapped back. “And you can tell your dad I’ve had enough of babysitting your ungrateful arse. I’m outta ’ere.”
“’Bout fuckin’ time,” he muttered.
One of the lines went dead.
“Who’s there?” Dante asked.
I breathed out. “Me.”
He went silent.
10
Dante
“I’m sorry for the way I treated you,” Mrs. Hatton said. “I’m also sorry for not being able to stop the police from taking you.”
I gripped onto the phone, not believing her. “No, you’re not. The only thing you’re sorry ’bout is that the cops lemme go.”
“No. Why would you say that?”
“Cos I’d be outta your hair. You fucked me, now you want me gone. You got your husband, you don’t need me. I’m disposable.”
“That’s not true.”
“Don’t lie. And I bet you’re only callin’ cos my dad came into school. What did he ask you? For you to talk me into returning?”
She didn’t reply, confirming my suspicions.
I continued, “I also bet you’re scared I’m gonna tell him ’bout fucking you.”
“Are you?”
“No, I don’t want what happened to Ms. Farris to happen to you, so leave me the hell alone.” I hung up and slumped back onto my bed, staring up at the fly spots on the ceiling, feeling like utter shite. Unlike a lot of the times I got blotto, where I remembered nothing, I remembered bits and pieces from yesterday: Talking to her father. Seeing her return home with her husband.
Seeing her hug him.
I was just a bit of fun for her, a cock to get off on, nothing more, and it fucked me off that I cared. It should be the other way round. She should’ve just been a bit of fun for me, before I moved onto the next hot chick. But she’d gotten into my head, making me like her far too much. I banged the back of my head against the wall, wishing I could knock all thoughts about her out of it.
The phone started ringing again. I snatched it up, even more annoyed as her voice came over the line again. “Stop ringing me!” I yelled.
“No,” she replied. “Not until you return to school.”
“Why? It’s a waste of time, not to mention, I don’t wanna look at someone who thinks I’m only worth one fuck.”
“Dante!” She lowered her voice. “You know why we can’t do anything more. I’m your teacher, not your,” she lowered her voice another notch, “lover. And you still have to go to school. It’s the law.”
“Y
ou didn’t think ’bout the law when you spread your legs for me.”
She didn’t reply, the bitch deserving my response. I could imagine her features twisting with shame. Something I was sick of seeing. I hated it when my first girlfriend acted ashamed of me, I didn’t need her doing it too.
“Why so quiet now?” I asked. “Not like you care what I think. Don’t even know why you got mad at me for pashing Phelia yesterday, ’specially since you’re pro’bly still fucking your husband. Actually, maybe you’re jealous cos you wanted to be sitting on my lap, kissing me instead of that blond dude with the Colgate smile in your wedding photos.”
“You looked at my photos?”
“I saw them when I came for my tutor lesson. So, do ya think of me when your husband fucks you?” I said, wanting to rile her. “Do you imagine it’s my cock instead of his, my lips on yours, my moans filling your ears?”
Instead of snapping back, she didn’t reply, alerting me to the possibility she had thought of me while with her husband. I sat up straighter, the thought exciting me. “Sounds like you do. And since Jasper’s bitch auntie isn’t watching me anymore, how ’bout you come over and watch me instead. I’ll make it worth your time.”
“I can’t,” she replied.
“Then go home and fuck your husband, but remember he can’t make you come like I can.” I went to hang up, but stopped at the sound of her voice.
“When will your father be home?” she asked.
I swung my feet over the side of my bed, her words giving me hope. “Six o’clock.”
“Will there be anyone else there?”
“No. I’m all on my lonesome.”
She went quiet.
“You still there?” I asked.
“Yes, and I’ll...” She paused. “I’ll come over, but only to talk you into returning to school. Your father did ask me to, so this is purely a school visit, nothing more, so don’t get any ideas.”
I smiled. “You’re fooling yourself, but if it helps, go ahead, pretend all you want.”
“Stop pushing me, Dante, you’re driving me insane.”
“That’ll make two of us.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to.”
“No, I’m already insane. I wuz born that way.”
Shattered Poetry (Broken Lives #2) Page 10