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She doesn’t give me any more details than that, and I’m grateful she doesn’t. I don’t want knowing Brielle’s story to interfere with our interactions. If the young woman wants me to know her history, then I prefer to hear it from her.
Just like last time, Kincaid climbs out of the passenger seat and gives his wife a kiss before we head inside the house. I don’t know either of them very well but from the outside, it seems they have that fairy tale that every little girl dreams of having. Only a few weeks ago I might’ve scrunched my nose and considered hating them for being so happy, but the way Em looks over her shoulder at her husband right before entering the house makes me a little envious instead.
The house is calm and quiet, and, unlike last time, Victoria doesn’t meet us at the door.
I’m a little nervous, but there’s also a thrill rumbling inside of me. Helping others gives me purpose, and I can’t wait to get started.
Em walks with me into the room, and several of the children turn around and look in our direction, not needing much to get distracted. I have to wonder if it’s a learned reaction, that they need to be aware of everything going on in a room because they never know when things might turn bad for them. The notion of that is heartbreakingly sad. Although I know and can somewhat understand the cycle of violence, I’ve been lucky enough not to have had to worry about whether I was physically safe. On the other hand, since I haven’t been abused, I can’t imagine sticking around in order for it to continue. I pull in a deep breath as I look around the room, telling myself it’s not my place to judge how long someone stayed in an abusive relationship or why they’d put their children in danger. I make a mental note to do more research and read more case studies in order to get a better understanding of the psychology involved with people in such situations.
Meagan smiles at both of us, relief in her eyes that she has some help.
“That look tells me you’re drowning,” Em says as Meagan gets closer.
“Always. I’m so glad you’re here,” Meagan says, pulling in a deep breath and releasing it through her nose. “Beth, it’s good to see you.”
I watch as the woman looks over her shoulder before looking back at me.
“Brielle is in an awful mood this morning. I don’t know how effective you’ll be with her, but Jaden has some questions about Life Science.”
“I’ll do my best,” I tell her.
As an online teacher, there was always a level of separation between the students and me. If a student didn’t want to do the work while we were in the middle of a video conference, all they had to do was end the video. I couldn’t argue against it, and, honestly, there was always a line of students needing some one-on-one help that I never even gave it a second thought when someone got upset and closed out a video. I just moved on to the next kid in the queue.
Brielle gives me a sad smile when I approach her, and I think for a second that maybe we formed some sort of connection and I can get through to her where others have failed.
“Where have you been?”
“Excuse me?” I ask, both a little affronted by her tone and shocked because despite people talking about me all my life, I haven’t had many of them talk at me the way she just did.
“You were supposed to help me look for scholarships, and you just fucking flaked.”
The slow blink I give her doesn’t seem to impress her. She simply doubles down by crossing her arms over her chest and staring right back at me.
“There seems to be an issue of miscommunication, Brielle. I gave you a website with instructions for you to find scholarships you might qualify for.”
“I looked.”
“Good,” I say, giving her a small smile. “Let me see what you came up with.”
She turns in her seat and pulls up the web address I gave her a few days ago, but then she does nothing else.
“Did you make a list?”
She points to the screen as if a narrowed list will just magically appear. If I hadn’t seen her flying through the internet with ease a few days ago, I might use a different approach. Despite the technological age we live in, not all people have had constant access to computers and other smart devices. This doesn’t apply to Brielle.
“I’m going to go help Jaden with his science class. In the meantime, find some you think you should submit applications for.”
My direction to her earns me another hateful look.
“If you don’t do the legwork, it doesn’t get done. You decide.”
