Chapter 15
The final bell had rung, and her ninth graders fled the room, feeling the excitement of the upcoming weekend. In truth, the same uplifting emotion rushed through Rachel.
She hadn’t determined who in the class had written the worrying notes for the poetry lesson, but her gaze had continually gone back to Robbie, whose usual jokes were missing, and Carson, whose quiet demeanor seemed even more quiet.
As the students left, she was surprised to see Carson among the last to go. “Hope you have a good weekend, Carson,” she called out, glad to see him smile.
“Thanks, Ms. Ayers,” he replied. “My brother came home, so it’ll be nice to spend time with him this weekend.”
She blinked, aware her smile slipped. “Oh… I didn’t know… yeah, well, I’m glad. I’m sure it will be good to… um… have him around.”
Carson nodded, then walked out, leaving Rachel sitting at her desk, her heart pounding and her stomach clenching. Jack’s home? And didn’t tell me?
The sudden desire to cry hit her, but she pushed it down as she collected her things, no longer excited about the weekend.
By the time she left her classroom, most of the students had already cleared out of the building.
Rachel walked down the main hallway, her arms full of her bag filled with essays she'd collected from her last period class.
The usual after-school quiet had settled over the building, signaling the particular stillness that came when hundreds of teenage voices suddenly went silent.
The news that Jack was already on the Shore and hadn’t told her settled into an ache in her chest. Suddenly, voices carried down the corridor, and Rachel slowed her steps. One male, one female. Harsh and angry. She couldn't make out the words yet, but the tone was unmistakable.
She quickened her pace, rounding the corner near the senior lockers. She sucked in a gasp when she saw who was arguing, the scene not aligning with what she knew about the participants.
Terrance Bogdin, a senior on the wrestling team, had his girlfriend’s back against the lockers. He was one of Rachel’s English honor students, always polite and a gentleman, and she saw him and his girlfriend, Lisa, around the school walking hand in hand.
Now, his hand was wrapped around her wrist, holding it tightly against the metal. The girl's face was streaked with tears, her free hand pressed against his chest like she was trying to create distance but didn't have the strength.
“I saw him, Lisa!” Terrance's voice was low and vicious. “Don't lie to me. He was all over you at lunch.”
“He wasn't! Terrance, please, you're hurting me—” Lisa's voice broke on a sob.
Rachel's instincts kicked in immediately.
“Terrance!” Rachel's sharp and commanding voice cut across the space between them. “Let her go. Now.”
His head snapped toward her, his eyes wild. For a second, Rachel saw something dangerous flicker across his face. Maybe anger, mixed with frustration, and definitely something dark. But then recognition settled in, and his expression shifted.
He dropped Lisa's wrist like it had burned him and stepped back, his hands coming up in a placating gesture.
“Ms. Ayers, I—” He stopped, his jaw working. “I'm sorry. We were just talking.”
“That wasn't talking.” Rachel kept her voice steady and authoritative. She moved closer, positioning herself between Terrance and Lisa. “Lisa, are you okay?”
Lisa nodded quickly, too quickly, wiping at her face with shaking hands. “I'm fine. We're fine. It was just a misunderstanding.”
Rachel didn't take her eyes off Terrance. He stood there, chest heaving slightly, his hands still raised like he was trying to prove he wasn't a threat. But Rachel could see the tension in his shoulders and the way his fingers curled into fists and then released, over and over.
“Terrance, you need to go,” Rachel said firmly. “Don't you have wrestling practice?”
“Yeah.” His voice came out rough. “Yeah, I do. Ms. Ayers, I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I wouldn't—” He looked at Lisa, something like desperation crossing his face. “Lisa, I'm sorry. I just got mad. You know I wouldn't hurt you.”
Lisa's lip trembled, but she nodded. “I know.”
Terrance backed away another step, then turned and walked quickly down the hallway. Rachel watched him go, noting the stiffness in his gait and the way he shoved through the double doors at the end of the corridor with more force than necessary.
When he was gone, Rachel turned her full attention to Lisa. The girl had slumped back against the locker, her arms wrapped around herself. She was pretty with long blond hair and delicate features, but right now, she looked small and scared and young.
“Lisa,” Rachel said gently. “Come with me to my classroom. Let's talk.”
“I'm okay, really—”
“Please.” Rachel's voice was kind but firm. “Just for a few minutes.”
Lisa hesitated, then nodded. She followed Rachel down the hallway, her footsteps quiet against the floor. Rachel opened the door and moved to her desk. Rachel set her stack of essays on her desk and gestured to one of the student chairs near the front. “Sit. Take a breath.”
Lisa sank into the chair, and Rachel pulled another one around to face her, sitting close enough to be present but far enough to give the girl space.
“Are you hurt?” Rachel asked. “Do you need ice for your wrist?”
Lisa shook her head, cradling her wrist against her chest. “It's fine. He didn't mean to grab me that hard. He just gets... intense sometimes.”
Rachel felt a familiar tightness in her chest. A flash of Isaiah’s intenseness hit her.
“Lisa, what I saw in that hallway wasn't okay,” Rachel said carefully. “Terrance had you cornered. He was holding your wrist hard enough to hurt you. That's not a misunderstanding. That's not just getting intense.”
Lisa's eyes filled with fresh tears. “I know.
I know it looks bad. But you don't understand…
he's under so much pressure right now. The wrestling season, trying to get a scholarship, his dad pushing him constantly, the coaches on his back to be the best. He's changing, and I know it's not him. Not really.”
Rachel leaned forward slightly, keeping her voice gentle. “Tell me what you mean by changing.”
Lisa took a shaky breath and wiped at her eyes.
“He's just... different lately. He gets irritated over nothing.
Like I'll say something completely normal, and he'll snap at me.
And he's so jealous now. He used to trust me, but now he accuses me of flirting with other guys when I'm just being friendly.”
“What else?” Rachel prompted softly.
“He's kind of… aggressive. Not always with me, but with other people.
He got into a fight with one of his teammates last week over something stupid.
And he's impulsive… like, he'll make decisions without thinking them through and then regret it later.” Lisa's voice dropped to almost a whisper.
“And his moods... they swing so fast. One minute, he's sweet and apologetic and telling me he loves me, and the next, he's furious about something I didn't even know I did wrong.”
“How long has this been going on?” Rachel asked.
“A few months, maybe?” Lisa looked down at her hands.
“It started gradually. Like I didn't even notice at first, but it's getting worse.
And I know… I know what you're thinking.
That I should break up with him. But Ms. Ayers, I love him.
And he's not evil. He's just stressed and under pressure, and I think if he could just get through this season, if he could get the scholarship he needs, everything would go back to normal.”
Rachel's heart ached for this girl. “Lisa, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” She reached out and gently took the young girl’s hand, the one that wasn't cradling her hurt wrist. “You can love someone and still protect yourself. Those two things aren't mutually exclusive.”
Lisa's eyes met hers, confused and hopeful and scared all at once.
“I understand what you're feeling,” Rachel continued.
“I understand wanting to believe that the person you love is still with you, and that the good parts will come back if you just wait long enough.
You also have to recognize when someone's behavior is crossing a line. When it's becoming dangerous.”
“He would never really hurt me,” Lisa said quickly. “He just grabbed my wrist. That's all.”
“Today,” Rachel said quietly. “Today, he just grabbed your wrist. But what about next time? What happens when he gets more stressed, more jealous, more out of control?”
Lisa pulled her hand back, wrapping her arms around herself again. “You sound like my mom.”
“That's because your mom loves you and wants you safe. Just like I do.” Rachel paused, choosing her words carefully. “I grew up in a situation where I wasn't safe. Where someone I was supposed to trust used his power to control me and the people I loved.”
Lisa's expression shifted, something softening in her eyes. “I didn't know that about you.”
“Not many people do.” Rachel gave her a small smile. “But I'm telling you now because I need you to understand… you deserve to be treated with respect and kindness. Always. Even when someone is stressed or under pressure or dealing with difficult things. That's not an excuse to hurt you.”
Lisa was quiet for a long moment, her fingers playing with the edge of her sleeve. “What should I do?”
“I think you need to set some boundaries,” Rachel said. “Tell Terrance that what happened today isn't acceptable. That if he grabs you like that again, you're done. And I think you need to talk to someone… a counselor, your parents, someone who can help you navigate this.”
“My parents would freak out. They'd probably try to keep me from seeing him.”
“Maybe that's not the worst thing,” Rachel said gently. “If his behavior is escalating, you need people around you who can keep you safe.”
Lisa stood abruptly, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “I need to think about it. Can I go?”