I Don't Want to Lose You (9 page)

             
We walked in silence until I was able to get my thoughts in order to be able to express myself. 

             
“Do you know what happened here?” I asked.

             
“I heard a lot of things, but I don't know what’s true,” he answered.

             
“She was sitting right over there,” I pointed to an area of the bleachers, “when these boys that she knew came over to her and started talking to her. She's a flirtatious one and I could only imagine what came out of her mouth, especially since she never has an issue with being sexually inappropriate in her conversations.  She was leaving to go home and they followed her, dragged her under the bleachers and gang raped her.”

             
He shook his head at the thought that this had recently occurred.  “You sound like you know who it is?”

             
“I do and I'm not telling.”  He nodded that he understood.  “I don't know what people were thinking by not calling the police.  I don't know what made her mother think it would be best to try to deal with the situation with the school and the school district.  That's so stupid to me.  It was decided that the whole thing would be swept under the rug and the boys would be punished by being expelled from the school.  While I am personally grateful that they are gone, not only due to this but also from threats I've received from them, I don't think that they got what they deserved.”

             
“Wait, you know who did this?  What did they say to you?”

             
“Yes, I know who they are.  They used to threaten to do stuff to me if they continued to see me come to school wearing their opposing gang color.  I told them that God made all colors to be enjoyed and it was my plan to enjoy every single one of them that looked good on me.  I don't do the gang thing and wasn't going to change my wardrobe for them.  All of these years I’ve been dressing like this and they are the only ones who had something to say to me.   Anyway, I wanted to do a special in the newspaper about rape.  I wanted to discuss what happened and how it was not handled correctly.  I wanted to discuss the appropriate means of action should a rape occur and what girls can do to protect themselves at school.  Of course I would not use any names.”

             
“That sounds great.”

             
“Yes, to you and me and to my journalism teacher.  He was excited about it. He had made some calls and was told that if I did it, one independent newspaper out here wanted to run it along with the possibility of the L.A. Times.  He was excited for me until he and I were asked to go to the principal's office today.  He was told that he would lose his job if we went through with it.  I was told that if I did anything in regards to the subject matter that I would be suspended if he couldn't get me expelled.  I did my best to be respectful in reminding him about the first amendment, but he said that this school is under his charge and, if he had to, he would review each paper before it went to press from now on.  He got word from the victim because I had asked her how she would feel if I discussed this in the newspaper.  She said the school wanted to keep it quiet and that she would feel betrayed by me if I did it.  My teacher reiterated to me that this is a part of journalism and that I did have a right to write about it if I wanted to, especially with how great of a story it is.  He said that he would be okay with losing his job for the first amendment.  I'm not sure it's worth it anymore.”

             
“What makes you say that?”

             
“I know that the politician in you may not agree with my saying that the first amendment is invalid in this case, but that's how I'm feeling right now.  I have a friendship on the line, my academic record, a teacher's job, a school's reputation and anything else that I can't think of at the moment.  I'm being censured and I don't like it.”

             
“Then fight back.”

             
“What's there to gain?  If I do it, the only benefit would be that I could say my article was published in whatever newspaper besides the Southwood High Chronicles.”

             
“But think of all of the girls who could benefit from reading it,” he responded.

             
“At what cost, Theo?  Would my attempts to try to educate some girls be worth the price of a teacher's salary?  The price of my possible expulsion?  What college is going to just overlook that infarction?  How would I get my parents to understand?  They would say to not do it and go on with my life.  Oh, and I failed to mention that the contact at L.A. Times said that if I did the article and it was good enough to be published, they would want to talk to me about a possible internship.”

             
We kept walking, but in silence, and made it halfway around until I asked, “What would you think of me if I walked away from it?”

             
“I wouldn't think any less of you, Monica,” he sweetly responded.  “You're stuck between a rock and a hard place.  You're either damned if you do or don't in some way.  Excuse my language.  You either do it with the hope of great things being in your future once you have dealt with the aftermath of your actions.  Or you take the selfless route and save everyone a headache, but lose out on the chance to live your dream.”

             
We walked until we reached where his backpack was and I told him that I was ready to leave.  He walked me to my locker to get my backpack and out of the front gate.

             
“Can I walk you home?” he asked.

             
I smiled and touched his cheek.  “That's sweet, but I'll be all right.  Thanks for letting me vent.”

             
He gave me a hug.  “I'm glad to be of service.  I'm always here if you need me and I always will be.  You know that.”

             
I nodded.  “I'll see you tomorrow.” 

             
By the time that I made it home I had come to the decision that I wouldn't do the article and that, other than my class, I was done with journalism.  I was going to have to find a new major and figure out what else I was going to be when I grew up.

             
The next time that I had a conversation with Nathaniel about college, I informed him that I was changing my major.  When he asked me why and how I came to that decision, I just shrugged my shoulders.  He didn’t need to know the details and I really wasn’t concerned about his opinion either.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

              The day was halfway over at school and it occurred to me that not one time did I get at least one of my daily kisses on my hand.  When I had noticed Theo in the couple of classes that we shared earlier in the day, he seemed distracted and distant.  At lunch time, after asking around, I was able to find him in the library.  He was at a table sitting alone all the way in the back and he was doing school work.               

             
“I'm guessing no one is sitting here,” I said as I sat down next to him.

             
“Now someone is,” he replied without looking up.

             
I took the seat and made myself comfortable.  I tapped my fingers on the table softly to get his attention, but he still wouldn’t look at me.  I started tapping louder and faster as if playing on a piano until he placed his hand on top of mine to stop me and finally visually acknowledged the person the hand belonged to.  I looked at him and searched his eyes for the normal luster for life and it was replaced with vexation.  “What's wrong?”

             
He shook his head as if that was all that he could do.

             
I was now concerned and it was all over my face.  “What is it?” He didn't say anything.  “You don't have to talk to me about it if you don't want to.  I was just worried about you and I wanted to check on you.  I'll leave you alone.”  I got up and, as I reached for my backpack, he put his hand on it to keep me from picking it up.  I knew saying that would work.

             
“You can stay,” he said quietly.

             
I sat down again and looked at him, waiting for him to say something.

             
He took a deep breath.  “My father is stressing me out.  School is stressing me out.  I'm tired and I'm not sleeping well.  And this stupid tax stuff we're working on in Economics,” he pushed the papers in front of him away from him and continued, “is driving me crazy.  I can't understand why I'm having a hard time with this.  I'm passing Physics and Calculus II, but I can't figure out this tax form.”

             
“That's because you're a typical politician,” I stated as a matter of fact.

             
He gave me a puzzled look.  “What do you mean?”

             
“A politician seems to be able to do everything.  They talk a good game; they put laws into effect and waste money.  But don't ask them to balance a budget or do anything with numbers and money.  It's almost as though you're speaking another language.”

             
He grinned.  “I would hope I'll be better than that and I don't think I'm at that point yet.”             

             
“Give it time, Governor.  I'm sure you will be.”  I winked my eye at him.  “Fortunately for you, I'm good at this.  Do you mind if I take a look?”

             
He handed me his work.  It didn't take me long to find what he did wrong.  I showed him and helped him finish it correctly.  Then I gave him different numbers to work with to try to do it again to make sure he knew how to do it.  It took him a couple of tries, but he got it.

             
“This is making more sense to me now.  You're a good teacher,” he said.  “Thanks for helping me with this.  I was so worried about the test we're taking tomorrow and it messing up my grade, but I think I'll do okay.”

             
“You'll do fine. If you think you need more help in Econ, let me know.  You out of all people should know where I am and how to find me.”

             
He smiled at me with his eyes and I looked at them intensely.  “There's my Theo,” I said.

             
He got my hand and kissed it.  “And here’s my State Treasurer.”

             
I giggled, both from what he said and because I got what I had been missing.