Better (Too Good series)

“You know Officer Tyson,” Mrs. Jackson said.

 

Yes. Cadence did know him. He was the officer assigned to Crestview High. He was an asshole, and right then, in her mind, the meeting was over.

 

Officer Tyson took the seat next to her across from the principal.

 

“It’s just a formality, Cadence. Whenever I need to ask students questions, he has to be present.”

 

The hell he does, Cadence thought. She glanced at the officer who wouldn’t look at her. You’re a fucking asshole! she screamed at him silently.

 

“I know this year hasn’t been easy for you,” Mrs. Jackson said. She paused, waiting for some sort of agreement from Cadence, but she got none. “I know you had it rough coming out of juvie.”

 

Cadence clenched her jaw. She knew what Mrs. Jackson was up to—trying to paint a picture of a poor, lonely, dejected target for a predator. And she wanted Cadence to agree with her. Cadence wouldn’t. She remained silent, staring the principal in the face.

 

“I can’t imagine what that’s like: to be bullied and to feel all alone at school,” Mrs. Jackson said.

 

Cadence lifted her chin in a show of defiance. “I was bullied? Didn’t realize it.”

 

Mrs. Jackson stiffened and resumed her speech.

 

“And when we’re bullied and feeling lonely, it makes us vulnerable. I know you felt vulnerable. I imagine if anyone said something nice to you at school, you were ready to be his best friend.”

 

His, Cadence thought. Damn, this woman is good.

 

Mrs. Jackson paused again, waiting for a verbal response. All she got was a blink. She shifted in her seat, obviously annoyed.

 

“It’s so easy for adults to take advantage of children, Cadence. And a lot of the time children don’t see it. They don’t realize. They mistake the motives, thinking these adults care about their best interests when they’re really out to do emotional and psychological harm.”

 

Was this rehearsed?

 

Mrs. Jackson waited. She stared at Cadence, willing her to speak. Cadence wouldn’t, and that’s when the conversation stopped being so friendly.

 

“When did Mr. Connelly solicit you for sex, and how old were you?” she asked abruptly.

 

Cadence’s eyes went wide. “Are you asking me when Mr. Connelly approached me at school and asked me if I wanted to have sex with him? Never.”

 

“When did you enter into a physical relationship with Mr. Connelly?”

 

“Never.”

 

“Cadence, we have proof that you and Mr. Connelly are together.”

 

An absurd thought flashed through Cadence’s mind. She imagined Mrs. Jackson broke into Mark’s apartment and stole the sheet that had her blood stain on it.

 

“I’m done answering questions,” Cadence snapped.

 

“Cadence, you aren’t in trouble here,” Mrs. Jackson said. “None of this is your fault. You were seduced and taken advantage of.”

 

“No, I wasn’t.”

 

“Mr. Connelly resigned today. He already knows we know. You don’t have to try and protect him. He’s going to jail, honey.”

 

“NO!”

 

Cadence jumped up and fled the office. She heard the principal call after her, and she didn’t care.

 

“I’m eighteen, I’m eighteen, I’m eighteen,” she whispered, grabbing her book bag from her locker and heading for the exit. She bumped into Jacob on her way out the door.

 

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, noting the look of fear on her face.

 

“Fine. I’ve gotta go,” she mumbled, picking up her pace. He followed.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“I can’t talk to you about it,” Cadence said.

 

“Why not? And where have you been?” He grabbed her arm and pulled her to a halt. “What the hell happened to your eye?”

 

“Jacob, please let me go. I can’t tell you anything. I need to leave. It’s an emergency.”

 

“Fine. I’m coming with you,” he said.

 

“The hell you are!” she replied, running for her car. He ran after.

 

She unlocked the door of a beat-up black Volkswagen.

 

“This isn’t your car,” Jacob said. “This looks like Mr. Con . . .” His voice trailed off.

 

She glared at him.

 

“Why are you getting into Mr. Connelly’s car?”

 

“Goodbye, Jacob,” Cadence said, slamming the door. He opened the passenger side door.

 

How was that open? She thought she only unlocked the driver’s side door.

 

“Get out!” she screamed.

 

“Why the hell do you have a black eye, and why are you in Mr. Connelly’s car? And where were you two Friday?” he asked, closing the door.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me? You plan to be a detective when you graduate? Get out of the car!”

 

“No.”

 

Cadence screamed as loudly as she could. It filled the tiny space of the vehicle, and she was convinced she’d shatter all the windows. And blow out the tires.

 

Jacob waited until she was through before continuing.