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What? Okay. This sounded serious. “Save you? Ainsley, do you need me to call someone to be in here with you?”
He frowned and tilted his chin. “No. I just need help, and Fox said I should talk to you.” He took a chair in the front row, waiting as I wheeled out from behind my desk and stopped in front of him.
“Mr. Sheridan, I… I need to… talk to someone,” he started, his voice barely above a whisper.
I leaned forward, my teacher instincts kicking in. “Whatever it is, Ainsley, I’m here to listen.”
He took a deep breath, his eyes flickering with a mix of fear and resolve. “I’m bisexual,” he blurted out, and it was as if I could see a great weight shift from his shoulders at vocalizing who he was. “And I argued with my dad because he started in on Clarke, and he said… he hates Clarke.” His voice hitched and he was shaking as he held out his arm, pushed back the sweater he was wearing and exposed bruises on his wrist and up his forearm. I had to school my features to hide the spark of temper in me.
Ainsley’s dad was loud and outspoken about anything he deemed immoral, and he ran his church on hate. A chill ran down my spine at what Ainsley was implying. This was a delicate situation, hell, a child protection issue.
I had to approach this with care; procedures were in place. “Ainsley, did your dad do this?”
He blinked at me for a moment. “He didn’t mean to, I mean, he was just…”
“If he hurt you in anger, that’s wrong,” I said, in the simplest language I knew how. “What happened?”
“I was arguing about Clarke.” He shot a glance at the door as if he expected Clarke to come barging in. “He hates Clarke, says he’s a bad influence, that he’s unnatural, and that I shouldn’t see him.” Ainsley’s eyes swam with tears. “But Clarke is… my best friend. No!” He balled his hands into fists in his lap. “He’s my boyfriend, and I want to be with Clarke, but Dad hates him, and he’s going to hate who I am.”
Oh. Well, that put a unique spin on things. Clarke and Ainsley together—that made absolute sense. After all, they were best friends, and tactile. Why hadn’t I seen this before? I glanced at Ainsley’s wrist, but he’d hidden it again.
“Dad’s always talking about sin. I’m scared he’ll… I don’t know, kick me out. And I don’t care about that—me and Clarke will be okay, we’ll move to the city and get a place or something, but I’m scared right now of what Dad might do to me. Or Clarke.”
I didn’t point out flaws with two fourteen-year-old boys heading to the city because Ainsley was scared, and that was my priority. My heart ached for him. No kid should have to fear being themselves. Why should anyone have to hide who they are, let alone a child? We should live in a world where every young person feels safe to express themselves, where their uniqueness is not only tolerated, but celebrated. Families should be sanctuaries of unconditional love, where kids can show their true colors without fear of rejection. Not places where there was hate.
“Has your dad threatened Clarke?”
Ainsley nodded, and then tipped his chin. “Not to his face, but to me.”
“Okay, Ainsley, here’s what’s going to happen. Firstly, you’re not alone in this. There are people who can support you, one of them being me.”
He shook his head, and I caught him glancing at my chair. “My dad is tall and strong.”
I understood his fear—Pastor McKenna was a big man physically, but he was also well-known in town. “Okay, let’s think this through. Do you have any other family members you trust? Anyone you feel safe with?”
He thought for a moment. “Not my mom. She’s just as scared of him as I am.” He blanched. “I mean, I love her, but she never stands up to him. Maybe my aunt. She’s always been kind to me, but she lives out of state, and I’m not leaving Clarke.”
“Well, an aunt advocating for you is a start.” I felt a flicker of hope. I paused for a moment to consider what next—I had a mandatory responsibility to report this. Did Ainsley know that? “You know, I need to report the incident to the appropriate authorities for your safety. I can’t promise to keep it to myself.”
He met my steady gaze with one of his own. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know who else to trust, and Fox said I can trust you.” His voice broke.
I nodded. “I’ve got this, and I’m glad you told me,” I assured him. “Your safety is my priority.” God, that sounded so damn official. “I’ve got this.” I softened my voice. “I’m on your side.”
His weight settled onmyshoulders, the reality of what he’d shared hitting me hard. I knew what my next steps had to be. My first responsibility was to ensure his safety, and that meant escalating this to the principal, at least.
Okay. Focus on what you know. What the procedures are.
I recalled every word of my training for situations like this, the emphasis on never promising confidentiality because I had a duty of care.
“Thank you,” Ainsley murmured, tears tracking down his face, looking dejected.
My role as a mandated reporter was clear, and the urgency of the situation didn’t allow for any hesitation. I made a mental note of the details of our conversation, knowing that accurate documentation was crucial.
I also thought about the immediate support Ainsley would need. I needed to talk to the principal, to set up a support system for him, and report this to law enforcement for child endangerment. This situation was bigger than him. I pulled out my cell and set it on the desk next to him. “Will you tell me again, so I have it on record?”
For a moment, he hesitated. “Can I get Clarke in here?”
I sat back in my seat. “Sure.”
