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“You need to tell me! Which one of my friends betrayed me? Was it Bell? Tillie?”
She shakes her head. “It wasn’t one of your friends. All I can say is that one of the teachers overheard a few things and, after stewing on it for a couple of days, they reached out and filled me in. Our only concern is helping you and putting a stop to this.”
It wasn’t one of my friends?
It was a teacher?
No… It couldn’t have been Ty. He wouldn’t do that to me. Would he?
“Which teacher?”
“I can’t reveal that, Rhys. You know I’m bound by confidentiality.”
“Screw the confidentiality. Which teacher is spreading rumours about me?” I’m being irrational, I know, yet I can’t help it. I feel betrayed.
“Calm down, please. We need to talk about the video. And Julie and Brian.”
“Nope!” I snap, shaking my head as I pace back and forth, wearing a line in my grey carpet. “We don’t need to talk about the video. You’ve seen it. Why talk about it? You want to know why I looked like I was enjoying it? Is that it?”
“Rhys! Stop it!” Cynthia leaps from the bed, reaching out for me, but I’m too fast. I dodge her hands, not wanting to be touched right now. “You know that’s not what I mean. Please don’t push me away. I want to help you.”
“Why?” I cry, backing up against my wall, pressing myself flat. The coolness from the plaster is comforting against my burning hot skin.
“Because I love you! I want to protect you from those horrid people. That’s what I’m here for, Rhys. To love and protect you. I just need you to let me!”
She’s crying. Tears are streaming down Cynthia’s face, her skin red and blotchy from emotions she can’t hold in. The reminder of how much she cares slaps the accusing bitch out of me, and I leap forward, throwing myself at her. She catches me in her arms, and we sink to the floor of my bedroom as pain shreds through my chest. Everything I’ve endured since I can remember explodes through my mind and comes out in a scream.
My birth mum couldn’t find a way to love me more than the drugs she shot in her veins. The secrets she took to the grave about who my dad is and why he wasn’t around. The morning I woke for school to find her dead when I was only nine years old. The group homes. The foster homes. The cruel adults who wore smiles and pretended to be caring in public, only to turn around and commit the most horrendous acts against me in private. The bullying I’ve endured for being different. The deeds I’ve suffered through just to feel loved. The damage that’s scarred my soul. The self-hate I hide on a daily basis in the hopes it won’t consume me.
It all comes out.
I’ve never cried like this. So raw. So out of control. So honestly.
Cynthia holds me tight through the whole thing, her voice eventually reaching me, soothing me until I calm down, and my gut-wrenching cries and shuddering sobs slowly ease. After all the therapy I’ve had since I was taken from Brian and Julie’s care, nothing has ever felt like it has breached through my walls until this moment.
“W-what do I-I do now?”
At my sob filled question, my mum pulls back and cups my face, her eyes red and wet and filled with so much pain.
“You let me help you.”
I nod, more tears bursting free, and I feel an invisible weight lifting from me.
When I calm down enough to speak, I open up and tell Cynthia everything that’s happened involving Brian and Julie. We cry some more, and eventually, Will, my dad, comes in and sits on the floor with us, pulling us into a group hug.
It’s strange. I thought I’d felt love when Brian was looking after me, but now that I have the real thing, I can see even more clearly how fucked up it was. That wasn’t love. This is. Here in this house, with Cynthia and Will, their care, their unwavering support, even after all the screwing up I’ve done, they are still here caring for me, loving me. No matter what.
We talk some more, and my parents reveal that they have already spoken with the police and that they are coming to the school tomorrow to interview me in the privacy of my mum’s office. I hate the idea of revealing all of this stuff to strangers, but at this point, I think I have to. I can’t carry it anymore. Not on my own.
When I convince them I’m ok and that I want to go to bed early, they give me the space I’m asking for, even though I can tell it’s hard for my mum to walk away and leave me. I lock my door again, glad to finally be alone, and I go straight to my phone and call Tyler.
“Hello.” He answers like he doesn’t already know it’s me.
“Why did you tell her? How could you do that to me?” I didn’t intend on the pain in my voice. I wanted to sound strong and pissed off and in control. Unfortunately, my emotions win.
“Kitten, Ihadto tell her. You need help, and I can’t be the one to take what I know to the police. I made up a story about overhearing some students talking and intercepted one of the messages being passed around containing the video. She had to know. It’s the only way I knew how to help you.”
“You betrayed me.” I hiss, anger making its way into my voice.
