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“Yep.” Because it had to be theI’m stupidone. Or I was supposed to be the smart one. Whatever.
“Frankie,” she continued when I didn’t add anything more. “There are a couple of things you need to understand. One, this was done to you—you’re not in trouble. Two, it’s okay to be upset. Bottling every emotion isn’t healthy.”
“No offense, Diane. But I’m fine. I can’t change other people’s opinions.” I couldn’t even change my mother’s, what hope did I have of anyone else? “And what they think doesn’t really matter to me.”
“You can tell yourself that, but it doesn’t mean the situation isn’t uncomfortable for you.”
“This,” I pointed out. “This is uncomfortable for me. Being pulled out of my class where everyone sees that I’m gone and then wonders where I am. Some student aide sends out a message that says I’m here and people start to speculate. That just adds more whispers to it. I didn’t ask to come here, I didn’t report this—I’mfine.”
“Be that as it may, we still need to report this, you still need to know you have options, and you need to know this is a safe space where you don’t have to be fine and no one is going to gossip about it.” She sounded like she meant well, but I shrugged.
“Consider me informed. What happens next?”
“Well, I’d like it if you would consider sitting and talking to me for a few minutes.”
“More than I already have?”
“You haven’t really spoken to me.” Hands clasped, she leaned back in the chair. “I get it, it’s weird to talk to a psychologist. I wasn’t comfortable the first time I spoke to one.”
“Did you want to talk to them?”
“I suppose yes,” she said with some careful consideration. “Though not excited about doing it. I needed help, and I was hoping she could help me.”
“There’s the difference,” I said. “I don’t want help.” I didn’t want to talk about my mom or school or the guys or the girls—none of it. “I just want to go to class, get my work done, and graduate.”
“That fits. You’re an overachiever. You filled your schedule with challenging courses, and you’re taking nearly a full load. You added a TA opportunity to your schedule. You have a stellar transcript, and my understanding is that four separate teachers have offered to write you recommendations, and you’re planning on applying to Harvard.”
“You know a lot.”
“I try to make sure I know who I’m talking to, particularly when I don’t think they want to talk to me. I don’t take it personally. Trust takes time. You don’t have to trust me right now. But I am on your side.”
“Aren’t you on the side of every student here?” That was her job, right?
“Yes, I am,” she admitted. “But I am not choosing one side over another. Do you think you can talk to me for a few minutes about the posting?”
“I don’t really have anything to say.” I shrugged. “There’s nothing to say.”
“Can you tell me how it made you feel?”
“I can, but I don’t want to. Look, Diane, I appreciate that this is what you have to do, cause it’s the rules. But you’ve talked to me, and I’m fine.”
“Except that knee hasn’t stopped bouncing since you sat down. You’re on the edge of your seat, ready to run. You’re throwing up barriers to conversations and shutting everything down with answers designed to block follow-up questions. That doesn’t say fine.”
Stilling my leg, I scooted back an inch in the chair and met her gaze. “I have to pee.”
A hint of a smile appeared on her face. “Well, you may use the restroom here in the office at the end of the hall while I call your mother. I need to let her know what’s going on, or I can wait for you to call, and I’ll sit here with you.”
“Mom’s on a flight to California,” I informed her as I stood. “You can call, but you’ll probably get voicemail.”
“I see.” The advocate frowned. “I’ll leave her a message. Go use the restroom, and then if you are truly unwilling to discuss this any further, I’ll walk with you to the SRO, and you can make a small statement there.”
“If I don’t want to make a statement?”
“Then you can tell the officer you have no statement to make. That’s your prerogative. I would urge you to reconsider, as you have the right to report this bullying.”
“Someone else has already reported it, so you don’t really need me.” But I wasn’t going to keep debating it. Letting myself out, I made a beeline for the bathroom. I did actually have to pee. Inside, I shut the door and leaned back against it.
I checked my phone.
