And that was the end of that conversation. Cadence found herself back in Mrs. Jackson’s office being lectured about respect for authority.
“Explain this to me!” Cadence showed the assistant principal the quizzes.
“Why do you have Jacob’s quiz?”
“Mrs. Jackson, look at the X’s, please.”
“Cadence, you’re spinning. No one is out to get you. No one is bullying you.”
Cadence’s mouth dropped open. Maybe Mrs. Jackson should have been in calculus this morning when some dipshit simulated a blowjob for her. Or last week when she was tripped in the hallway. Or two days ago when she was solicited for sex by four different boys. The bitch was crazy.
“You have a week and a half. And I’d like to see you graduate, just as you’d like to see yourself graduate.”
Cadence sighed.
“Suck it up and deal with it.”
Cadence raised her head.
“Really? What happened to the other week when I was in here, and you were consoling me about all the abuse I’ve been taking at school? Now I’m not being bullied? I don’t get it. Was that just a ploy to get me to say something bad about Mark? Because I won’t.”
“That’s enough, Cadence.”
Cadence bit her tongue and stared out the window.
“Morning detention for the rest of the week. And an apology to Ms. Donovan.”
Cadence snorted.
“I mean it,” Mrs. Jackson said. “She may not have the authority to see that you do not graduate, but I sure as hell do.”
Cadence snapped her head up at the sound of Mrs. Jackson’s threat.
“Do you understand me?”
Cadence nodded grudgingly. And then she left the office before being excused. It wasn’t until she was halfway down the hall that it happened. Clarity. Bam! It punched her in the face. Big-fisted clarity that bruised her cheekbone. She finally got it. These women were angry at her—angry because she wasn’t a victim after all. They would have coddled her had she been a victim of abuse at the hands of a teacher. But she wasn’t. She was a willing participant, and therefore, became their enemy.
Why? She couldn’t say, but she wasn’t about to let these bitches treat her like shit for the next week and a half. And she was graduating, too, even if she had to steal her diploma.
She decided to get her apology over with now instead of later. Waiting would only make it worse. She knocked softly on the classroom door, then entered.
Ms. Donovan raised her eyebrows. “May I help you?”
“I’m supposed to apologize to you,” Cadence said, standing in the doorway.
“So this is a fake apology,” Ms. Donovan replied, snorting.
“Pretty much.”
“You don’t feel badly at all for calling me a fucking bitch, do you?” Ms. Donovan asked.
Cadence was unsure where the conversation was headed. She didn’t know how she was expected to answer, so she told the truth.
“No.”
Ms. Donovan’s lips curled into a nasty grin. “Then I don’t feel badly for what I’m about to tell you.”
Cadence steeled herself.
“You think you’re a really special girl because a teacher showed you some interest. Isn’t that right? You’re special because he said nice things to you and fucked you. Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” She paused for effect. “You’re not.”
Cadence realized this had nothing to do with breaking girl code. That’s what she originally thought as she walked back to calculus to fake apologize. She thought Ms. Donovan was angry with her because she was dating a man who should be dating an older woman—an older woman like Ms. Donovan. But she realized in that moment that it had nothing to do with girl code. It had to do with something terrible that happened in Ms. Donovan’s past.
“He broke it off, didn’t he?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“What are you talking about?” Ms. Donovan snapped.
“Your teacher. You loved him, and he ended it,” Cadence said quietly.
Ms. Donovan’s face twisted in disgust. “They all do. You’re not special, Cadence. He’ll leave you, too. You’re just a stupid little girl who can’t see past his charms and lies.”
Cadence shook her head. She knew it wasn’t true. This woman wanted to feed her poison because her heart was warped and jaded. But Cadence wouldn’t let her. She folded her hands over her heart. They acted as a shield against Ms. Donovan’s putrid words.
“I’m sorry he did that to you,” Cadence said.
“Get out.”
“I’m sorry he broke your heart.”
“I said get out!”
Cadence left the room, closing the door softly behind her. She peeked through the window and saw Ms. Donovan bury her face in her hands. And then her body shook. And suddenly large angry X’s on Cadence’s quiz weren’t important anymore. It really had nothing to do with her—this pain she was witnessing inside Mr. Connelly’s old classroom. It was about heartbreak and an easy target. Heartbreak and ruin. Heartbreak and bitterness.
Heartbreak.