The Mouse

by Lauretta Hignett

  Sunny still managed to keep Hunter from her mind as she walked to school. It was another lovely autumn day, the leaves of the trees were now entirely amber and bronze, but only a few had plunged to the earth. The sun shone a soft golden in the light blue sky, with big puffy clouds at the horizon, and only a very slight chill to the morning air. Walking slowly, Sunny managed to fully occupy herself by kicking a gumnut all the way from her cul-de-sac, along the footpaths and across the roads, all the way to the gate of the school.

  At the gate, she bumped into some girls from the athletics team, and, refusing to acknowledge she was following Steph’s advice, fell into an easy conversation with them until Annabel and Simon made their way over to her.

  Annabel was still clutching tissues, and her voice was still hoarse, but her energy was back, and she was gesticulating wildly.

  Her movements slowed when she got a look at Sunny’s face, and she understood immediately what her devastated expression could mean.

  “He gave you the arse, did he?”

  “That’s a charming expression. Hello to you too.” Sunny replied in a monotone. “Hi, Simon.”

  “Hi,” Simon was manically cheerful, obviously delighted to have Annabel back at school, and blissfully unaware of Sunny’s palpable grief. “Nice day, isn’t it?”

  “Lovely,” Sunny replied sarcastically. They started towards their lockers in the hallway, not in any particular hurry.

  “Sunny, I realize you’re not in a particularly good mood,” Annabel said, trying again for empathy. “And I guess it has something to do with a certain hunky surf coach. Did you declare yourself?”

  Pain shot through Sunny like a jolt of lightening. She hunched over and screwed her face up momentarily as if the pain were physical rather than emotional. “I didn’t have to,” she whispered. “Of course he knew how I felt, and it was making him uncomfortable. So, he’s… resigned as my coach.”

  With a bit of effort, Annabel’s face rearranged itself into more appropriate lines of sympathy. “Oh. That’s no good. Sorry to hear.” She placed one stiff hand on Sunny’s shoulder and patted her for a moment.

  She was saved from having to exert herself more emotionally as they reached their lockers. Annabel buried her head in eagerly, and Sunny tried to focus on pulling out the right books for her first two periods.

  “Alright! I forgot I left this in here!” Simon sang joyously, pulling out a choc banana yoghurt out of his locker. He peeled off the lid and threw the whole pot into his mouth.

  “Uh, Simon…” Sunny began.

  “What?” he gurgled through a mouth full of yoghurt.

  “How long has that been in there?”

  “When was I at school last?” He looked up cheerily, counting the days and swallowing the last of the yoghurt.

  Annabel and Sunny shot a wide-eyed look at each other, then Annabel shook her head.

  “He’s eaten worse.” She grabbed his elbow and shuffled him off to their first class.

  The lunchtime bell rang, and Sunny gathered up her books with a sigh. Her mood dipped even further when she made her way to the drama class, and that made her angry.

  It was supposed to be fun, an escape. But so far it wasn’t.

  The stage in the school hall was full of the drama students, all sitting around madly brushing up on their lines, some with their lips moving frantically as they mumbled their lines out loud. Sunny took a seat in the front row of the audience, ready to move up if she was required, but quite happy to watch the calamity unfold. The hall was darkened, the only lights were on the stage, and the cozy cushioned seats were the most comfortable place to be.

  She watched Lily Watkins, playing Amelia, desperately flick through the pages of her play to make sure she knew all her lines, a look of panic on her face.

  It didn’t look like anyone was enjoying this.

  If today wasn’t enjoyable, she decided, she was going to quit. It just wasn’t worth it.

  Sunny suddenly sensed someone standing right behind her chair. After a second, the cushion of the back of her chair dipped as someone pressed on it with both elbows, and leaned over her.

  She knew it was Jake – she could smell tacky cologne and entitlement. He gave her shoulders a squeeze, and before she could protest at his unwelcome touch, he was gone, moving down the row to come and join her.

  Could this day get any worse?

  “Hey, Sunshine!” He loped up and dropped himself on the seat next to her.

  “I thought I told you to get lost,” Sunny never took her eyes off the stage, not wanting to even look at him.

  “Ah, I know you didn’t mean it,” Jake said, looking into her face with an arrogant grin. “You’re just sitting down here all on your lonesome; I just thought you might like a little company down here. It’s so cosy and dark…” He gave her a broad smile.

  She refused to even turn her head to look at him. “No, I don’t want any company, Jake. I made myself pretty clear the other day,” she replied icily.

  “Naw, loosen up a little, would you? We kinda have to get to know each other a bit better anyway, seeing as we’re going to be lovers on stage.” He winked at her and elongated his vowels dramatically.

  It seems like this day could get worse. Suddenly, Sunny decided she’d had enough.

  “You’ve just made my decision for me.” She looked him full in the face, eyes glittering. “I’m so quitting this play,” she added furiously.

  Without warning he lunged at her, grabbed at her shoulders and pulled her to him, he was strong, and she was taken by surprise. Both of her arms were pinned down at her sides by his big hands, and his face was suddenly on hers, their teeth clashing painfully. She was caught off-guard and suddenly scared that she froze – she couldn’t move, she couldn’t think. Jake seized the opportunity and opened his mouth, trying to jam his tongue between her lips. It was violent and sudden and so absolutely awful, Sunny was dumbfounded.

  But only for a moment. Coming to her senses as his tongue slammed into her throat, choking her, Sunny wriggled desperately out of Jake's grasp. She managed to get one of her arms free, and she shoved him hard in the chest, pushing him away, unable to speak as her throat spasmed and she gagged for air.

  He came straight back at her and put both arms around her, drawing her in close so he could nuzzle her neck and murmur in her ear.

  “Don’t play frigid; I know you like me.”

  Sunny was horrified and tried frantically to scream, and arching away from him she tried to break his hold. He grasped her even tighter, both arms like a vice, trapping her in her seat, and kissed her neck again. His tongue wiggled like a fat wet worm up to her earlobes then stuck right in her ear, and he forced her head around and mashed his mouth on hers again.

  In a panic, she lashed out and used the small space available to pull her head back as far as it would go and headbutted him in the mouth. It was only a tiny hit, but it snapped him to attention, and she gulped in mouthfuls of air as if it was life’s breath.

  He broke his hold, and glared at her, fuming. “Goddamn princess, huh? Well, give it up. I know you’re into me. I’ve had enough of the games.”

  Her eyes were wide and frightened as he came at her again, this time his big hands lunged at her breast, his fingers dug in hard, and he squeezed.

  The pain was excruciating. She had to get away, and she had to do it now.

  Jake had her left hand pinned, but she pulled back her right hand and let it fly, and punched him in the mouth as hard as she could.

  He stopped in his tracks and gave a cry of shock. She took the advantage and hit him again, harder this time, and his lip squashed under her fist and split.

  Before she could bolt from the chair, a dark figure suddenly loomed over them.

  “O’Sullivan! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Sunny was utterly dazed and horrified at what had just happened, she whirled wildly around, ready to run.

  “She just hit me, sir! We were making out ju
st a little, and she hit me!” Jake shrieked through a mouthful of blood.

  “No!” Sunny found her voice. “He… he was forcing himself on me! I couldn’t get him off me!”

  “You’re coming with me, young lady,” Creasants snarled, and jabbed his fingers in the direction of the door. “Henderson, you go to the nurse. Get your lip seen to then meet us at the principal’s office.”

  Sunny started crying as Cresants led her from the hall. Her mouth felt bruised, mutilated, and she could still feel the pain from Jake’s fingertips on her breast. Worse, she was utterly speechless and barely unable to form a coherent thought, let alone protest her innocence.

  Cresants walked two steps ahead of her, muttering under his breath the whole way. They walked out of the hall, down the large corridor past the school’s main entrance, and up the steps towards the school offices and reception. Cresants paused outside Hillingsworth’s office and knocked imperiously.

  “Yes?” The principal called from within.

  Cresants pushed the door open and marched in; he finally deigned to look at Sunny as he glared at her and pointed at a chair in the corner of the office. She slunk to the corner and sat, putting her head in her hands and sobbed pitifully.

  “What’s going on here?” Hillingsworth asked, alarmed.

  “This girl,” Cresants spat out, stabbing a finger at Sunny, “was in my drama rehearsal, and she’s just punched my Othello. Twice.”

  Sunny found her voice. “He was attacking me!”

  “You two were kissing, and when the class noticed, you hit him. Lots of students saw it,” Cresants snarled.

  “I was trying to get him off me!”

  Sunny was nearing hysteria. This couldn’t possibly be happening.

  Hillingsworth looked horrified. “Wait on, let’s all calm down here.” He held up his hands, palms up, a worried look on his usually benign face. “I think we should call her parents in and get this boy’s parents in too. Where is he, anyway?”

  “At the nurse’s station,” Cresants sneered. “She’s split his lip. Done some damage, by the looks of it.”

  Hillingsworth already had one of the administrators on the phone, asking to get the parents in. They waited for almost half an hour.

  Jake came in next, being escorted by the current school nurse, a cheerful petite blonde woman in her early forties.

  “Okay darling, here you go” she sang as she ushered him into the room. “You sit down right there, how’s the lip feeling?” She’d put a small adhesive clip on it, it was swollen and bruised, but the bleeding had stopped.

  “It’s sore,” Jake muttered, glaring in Sunny’s direction. He took a seat in the opposite corner, slumping with his head resting on his hands, legs akimbo, seemingly terminally bored.

  The nurse walked to his side and stood over him, pretending to examine him again and fussed over him in a motherly sort of way. She was obviously desperate to stay in the room to see what was about to unfold so she was trying to appear like she was needed. The three teachers watched her for a while, then Hillingsworth cleared his throat.

  “Huh hum.” She looked up in his direction. “Thank you, Natalie. We can take it from here.”

  “Uh, okay,” she said, disappointed.

  “I don’t think any more fights are going to break out in here,” Hillingsworth said fake-jovially.

  The nurse raised her eyebrows – a fight! Between this crying girl and this sullen boy. She’d got a tiny bit of gossip to take out of the office with her. Only slightly appeased, she shuffled out, shutting the door behind her.

  It opened almost immediately, and she returned to usher Jake’s parents in, then scuttled off to the corner of the office, hoping no one would notice her amongst the new arrivals. Jake’s mother was slim, dark and dainty, with perfectly groomed hair and manicured nails. She was silent, and her big dark eyes took in everything in the room without surprise. Jake’s father was tall, stern, an older version of Jake with a craggy, tan face.

  He was also apoplectic with rage.

  “What the hell is going on here? What happened to my son?” He spat out, glaring around at everyone in the office. “They said that he’d been hit by one of the other students. Where is that son-of-a-bitch?” He snarled at his son. “At the sickbay, no doubt. I bet you got him back good.”

  Jake cringed into his chair.

  “Mr Henderson, Mrs Henderson, please take a seat. Sunny’s parents should be here shortly and then we’ll get the whole story, and decide an appropriate punishment.” Mr Hillingsworth said calmly.

  Jake’s mother immediately took one of the four seats right in front of Hillingsworth’s desk, but his father remained standing.

  “You mean this…this girl hit my son? How could you allow this to happen?” He raged at the teachers.

  How could I have allowed this to happen? Sunny echoed to herself miserably.

  “As I understand, it was a bit of a lover’s quarrel,” the Principal mused, trying to defuse the situation. “But rest assured, Mr Henderson, we take this sort of thing very seriously. We do not condone violence of any kind at this school. She will be dealt with appropriately.” He looked at his watch uncomfortably. “We will just wait a few moments for her parents to arrive...”

  Reluctantly Mr Henderson took his seat.

  Sunny sat with her head in her hands, feeling completely alone in the world. She wasn’t even sure that her father could come in and make everything okay, but at least he would be here, and she would have someone on her side.

  Then her heart sunk even further when she heard Steph’s voice in the corridor.

  “Hello, sorry, I’m looking for Mr Hillingsworth’s office? Oh yes, thank you. No, he won’t be coming, unfortunately, he’s out on site at the moment, and out of cellphone range, so I couldn’t get hold of him.” Her voice got louder as she was lead to the office. The door opened, and Steph came in, smiling around at everyone. She was wearing one of her floaty beach dresses with a cardigan, blue and green tie-dyed, with several wooden beads and carved necklaces around her neck. Her hair was long, shiny and loose, a fraying straw cowboy hat on top of her head.

  Sunny had never felt worse in her life. Steph could only be relied on to insist everyone have a group hug, then sing Kum-bay-ah.

  “Hi Mr Hillingsworth, how are you going?” Steph smiled serenely at the principal. “Mr Cresants, you haven’t changed a bit.” She looked around and spotted Sunny in the corner, still sobbing quietly, and the smile was wiped from her face.

  “Sunny! Are you okay, darling?” She ran to Sunny’s side and put both arms around her.

  Sunny’s heart cracked. She leaned into Steph’s shoulder and cried and cried. Steph stroked her hair and pulled her close, then looked up expectantly at the principal.

  Mr Hillingsworth cleared his throat again. “Mrs O’Sullivan, it appears that Sunny has punched another student. Jake, here.” He gestured at Jake in the corner, who had let his head loll back and his eyes close. “This is his parents, Mr and Mrs Henderson. We want to know what happened, and we will decide the appropriate punishment for Sunny.”

  Cresants jumped in. “These two are in my English class, and have roles in our production of Othello in a couple of months. They were seen kissing in the darkened theatre while the other students were about to perform, then the girl suddenly turned nasty, and assaulted Jake here.”

  Mr Henderson huffed noisily, furious at being dragged in, and embarrassed that his son was attacked by a girl. His wife sat silent, very still and eerily absent from the proceedings.

  Steph, still holding Sunny tight, looked bewildered from Jake to the teachers. “Wait a second,” she said finally, “this is the boy, isn’t it? The one who’s been harassing you?” She stroked Sunny’s hair again.

  “Harassing her?” Cresants snarled. “I hardly think so.”

  Jake piped up from the back. “She was totally into me, but when I kissed her, she went crazy. This chick is mental.”

  Steph jumped like she h
ad been stung, and hugged Sunny even tighter. When she next spoke, her voice was filled with ice.

  “Mr Hillingsworth, Sunny has spoken to me twice about a boy in her drama class who is making unwanted advances.”

  “Really. Unwanted advances?” Hillingsworth said disbelievingly. Jake was a good-looking boy, and he felt it unlikely that anyone would spurn him.

  “Yes. She said that he had made her feel very uncomfortable and that she was reconsidering doing the play, considering they would be spending more time together.”

  Sunny heard Steph’s words through her fog of misery, and she felt a tiny flare of hope. She straightened, wiped her nose on Steph’s sleeve, took a deep breath and turned to the teachers.

  “He attacked me,” she choked out. “He tried it on Friday, and I told him to back off. I said quite clearly that I wasn’t interested, and that he needed to leave me alone, and he came at me again today. I said that I was going to quit the play because I found him that repulsive, and he forced himself on me.” She shuddered at the memory.

  Steph was appalled. “He forced himself on you? So you hit him because you were defending yourself?”

  “He wouldn’t stop. I pushed him away, his tongue was in my ear, and he was trying to force it down my throat.” Sunny stopped to gag. “He was holding my arms down so I couldn’t fight him off.”

  Steph had gone very still, but when she next spoke her voice was icily calm and terrifying.

  “Mr Hillingsworth, please phone the police. They need to be here to take statements.”

  The room exploded.

  “I hardly think that is necessary,” Mr Hillingsworth spluttered.

  Nurse Natalie gasped, her eyes round as saucers.

  “This is preposterous! I’m not going to sit here and listen to this rubbish!” Mr Henderson shouted. His wife sat, still silent, the only one not reacting.

  Mr Cresants was almost gibbering with rage. “That is ridiculous,” he spat out.

  “Is it?” Steph said scathingly. “Sunny told me that she’d already complained about Jake’s behaviour to a teacher once. Was that you, Mr Cresants?”