Detox

Chapter 03: Voices

Miss. Simmons

I try to do what's right for me
But no one sees the way I see
And then I try to please them so
But how far can this pleasing go

"The best teachers teach from the heart, not from the book."

Los Angeles, November 1983

The decision to become a teacher had been a no-brainer.

Raised in a home where her parents were both fine educators in institutions of higher learning, Daphne Simmons was made to believe that the very art of teaching was a gift from God. Teachers (especially the good ones) were the backbone of society; for behind every great man, woman, and child stood a silent mentor; someone who had paved the way to their success. She was witness to the many students who always took the time to visit her parents; praising their skills and thanking them profusely for making them graduate, achieving their dreams, or even for something as simple as passing a test.

As her father had once said – during his many heart-to-heart conversations with his only child, “There is no greater joy than seeing the fruits of your labor in the eyes of your students, Daphne. Always remember that when you take on the responsibility of being an educator, you teach not just from books, but from the heart. Give your students something to think about; something more than just the printed word. Teach them about life and leave them wanting more; always eager to spread their knowledge like the branches of a tree. Be their root, Daphne, and watch them blossom. That is the true measure of success.”

To a young, impressionable woman those were words to live by; something she had kept with her as she made the decision to major in Education. Her friends had thought it a foolhardy road to take considering how little money teachers made, and many had assumed she’d take her talents (read as beauty) in another direction. Perhaps modeling, broadcasting, or journalism. Such areas of expertise were bound to open even more doors for her and have the money rolling in. It would have been a big help all things considered. Her parents were by no means rich (one would be surprised at just how much money college professors made especially in such a small town like St. Joseph, Minnesota), and things had gotten even dicier when a reduction in college funding had caused a major downsizing. It was either lose your job or take a drastic pay cut. The Simmons family had chosen the pay cut.

For Daphne, it was even more of an incentive to become greater than what others expected of her. Her knack for solving complex calculations won her several state awards in Science and Mathematics as a high school student, as well as a much-needed scholarship to Northwestern University. It was there that she was first introduced to the joys of being an educator when she volunteered her hours at a local elementary school for a substitute teaching job. Her zeal for life and infectious positive attitude won her plenty of ‘fans’, and there was simply no greater pleasure in receiving heartfelt gifts of drawings or arts & crafts creations from her wonderful students. Even better was receiving praise from the parents and her superiors; many who hoped that she would continue her dream of becoming a legitimate teacher someday.

That golden opportunity came when her mentor/professor offered the chance to apply for a job opening at a high school in Los Angeles.

“They really need teachers in the Sciences, especially Math,” Professor Curry had stated with a warm smile. “And I took the liberty of already writing a reference letter on your behalf.”

“A high school?” She asked; doubtful of dealing with much older kids already.

“You will be dealing with first year students, so consider it just a step up from elementary school. They are still young, fresh-eyed, and eager to learn. I think this would be just the experience you need as you work hard on your Masters degree, don’t you think?”

She still had her doubts; after all she was only twenty-two – barely older than the kids she would be expected to teach. She was just out of high school herself, so she knew how much of a handful they could be. How could she expect them to listen to her? How could she engage herself in a manner that would garner respect and not ridicule?

“Los Angeles?” Brenda, her best friend, had screeched over the din of the bar they were having drinks at one night. “Are you kidding me? Look at this dump, Daphne.” She waved her hand to emphasize the claustrophobic atmosphere surrounding them like an oppressive heat wave. It was the same familiar faces she had grown up with; many college students who wished to drown their sorrows away in their drinks before hooking up with some random person to keep their beds warm at night. There was something decidedly depressing about the whole scene.

“This is your chance to make it big!” Brenda continued. “Los Angeles is like…God, I wish I was going. I’d leave here in a heartbeat. Trust me. You’ve got to give it a shot, Dee. And if it doesn’t work out, then you know it wasn’t to be.”

“Don’t live your life with regrets,” her father would later say over the phone when she sought his advice. “Do what your heart tells you, Daphne. I’m sure you’ll be successful in whatever road you take.”

It was the final push she needed, and on that cold February morning, Daphne Simmons packed her meager belongings of only three suitcases and two carryalls to begin a new life in the City of Angels. She knew no one in L.A besides a friend Professor Curry had insisted would be waiting for her at the airport. She could remember standing at the terminal; looking as lost and helpless as she felt being in such a ‘big city’. Fortunately, she was finally able to make out the grizzly white-haired man (who bore a close resemblance to Santa Claus) with the cardboard sign that had her name on it.

“Daphne Simmons, I presume?” came the jovial greeting as he reached out to pump her hand in a firm handshake. “Todd Hamilton. Professor Curry’s once annoying student.”

They laughed at this together, and feeling more relaxed, Daphne knew she would get along well with Todd. He went out of his way to get her settled into a small apartment in Corona. He apologized for it (perhaps) not being as glamorous as she might have expected an L.A. home to be, but Daphne was in seventh heaven anyway. She didn’t care that she had to share the building with ten other people, or that there were cracks on the ceiling, or that the carpet needed some more major cleaning, or that there were still a few stains on the wall that she could probably cover with wallpaper, or that the apartment in itself was just about as big as about two dorm rooms with a kitchen barely big enough to contain two people or a bathroom that was just as tiny…it was her first place. Her own place! She was no longer under the watchful eyes of her parents, and neither would she worry about having to return from a long day of classes to a dirty dorm and an annoying roommate. She was already picturing all the things she could do to make her new home more…well…homely, but first she would have to work hard at impressing her (possible) future employees so she could earn some cash to put in her pocket.

Todd, who was married, was more than helpful in settling her in. Along with his wife, both offered the young woman items they did not really need. In less than a week, Daphne had a sofa and coffee table the Hamiltons had considered selling at a garage sale, as well as other little knick knacks (mostly kitchen supplies) to make the place more hospitable. They became her second family, and some nights and weekends would be spent with the couple as they did their best to teach her all they knew about the city.

While she eagerly waited for her interview date, Daphne spent the time sightseeing whenever she could. She got to see all the famous places like the Hollywood sign, Grauman’s Chinese Theater (where she had posed beside Marilyn Monroe's famous hand prints for pictures), and the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Like a giddy teenager, she soaked up the history and culture, and when she dared to visit the famous shopping district – Melrose Avenue - she was painfully reminded of how insignificant and poor she really was.

Someday, she would fantasize while eyeing her plain spring dress; maybe someday she would be able to walk down the boulevard in $500 Manolo Blahniks, cradling shopping bags with Neiman Marcus, Giorgio Armani, or Bill Blass etched on the sides. She’d be able to sit in expensive restaurants sipping fine tea from antique cups while discussing the latest fashions with her new Hollywood friends. They would take jet trips between New York and L.A. during the weekends, host parties at the Hamptons, and dine with royalty.

Unfortunately, reality had to take precedence, and she was made aware of that on the day she was to make her appearance at the interview.

Exeter Academy – an exclusive private school for the rich and famous – not to be confused with Philips Exeter in New Hampshire; though both schools could boast of similar histories and backgrounds. She had done her research and could already feel the nerves kicking in when she realized just what she was getting into. Sure the school needed new teachers, but the history of excellence from previous educators and the results from the students, were so lofty, she wondered if she could make a difference or bring anything new to the table.

Luckily, the interviews had been set on days the students were not in session, and she (along with about twenty others) were given a quick tour of the impressive grounds and buildings. If it was a tactic by the school to whet potential employees’ appetites, it certainly worked. The more she was exposed to the history behind the walls, and the moment she walked into a classroom to stare at the empty desks and chairs before her, Daphne knew she wanted this job more than ever.

She was clearly the youngest of the bunch, and she knew that most of her competitors looked down on her. She was technically still in college herself, still impressionable, and still wide-eyed like her potential students, so what could she possibly know about teaching?

“Impressive,” were the first words out of principal’s mouth as she sat before the table of five intimidating members of the school's board of educators. “An excellent resume for one starting out, Miss. Simmons.”

She couldn’t remember most of what was said during the interview, but she did know that she was as honest as she could possibly be. They had made no promises; simply giving her the “we’ll call you back” line, but she still left the school feeling confident and pleased with her overall performance.

The next two weeks would be the longest in her life. She had managed to get a part-time job waiting tables at a small restaurant, and every evening, she would practically run home to check her mailbox or listen to her voice messages for anything new. The silence was deafening, and just when she felt she was reaching her breaking point; when she felt she ought to begin making plans to travel back to Minnesota, it finally arrived in the mail.

For almost half-an-hour, she sat and stared at the pristine white envelope with the Exeter coat-of-arms on its topmost left hand side and her name typed neatly on it; heartbeat racing with dread and anticipation. It could easily go either way. It could be a rejection letter; saying how nice it was of her to apply and that she really wasn’t what they were looking for right now, or two…or two…

Oh God…please…

Trembling fingers finally picked the envelope to open it gently; as if afraid it would detonate if she opened it any faster. She unfolded the paper (absently marveling at the excellent paper quality) and for a few seconds her vision blurred as the words didn’t quite seem to make sense.

Dear Miss. Simmons,

We are pleased to inform you that your application for the position of Math educator has been approved by the Exeter Board of Education…

That was as far as she got before letting out a girlish squeal of delight. She couldn’t believe her good fortune, and after calling up the Hamiltons, her parents, and Professor Curry, she spent the night celebrating at the restaurant with her fellow employees and friends. They would later host a little farewell party; a touching gesture considering she hadn’t even worked there for that long.

That was nearly five months ago, and since then, she had come to realize just how much of a blessing her profession really was. Everyday was a learning experience; a chance to get to know her students better, and since she was only teaching the freshman classes, she was able to connect with them on a more personal level than others. It was something she came to realize that her students appreciated, and it always warmed her heart when they told her just how “awesome” and “cool” she was to listen to them when no one else would.

Part of majoring in Education, not only involved teaching students and grading papers, but there was the deep psychological aspect to the process as well. She had loved attending her Psych classes, as it gave her the opportunity to understand and to delve deeper into the human psyche. What made people tick? What made them act the way they did? Why were young people…these teenagers so misunderstood in society? Why was everyone so quick to label them as troublesome and invaluable just because they acted a certain way?

Through simply talking to most of them, she had come to learn that all these kids needed was just a listening ear, a guiding hand, someone to show them the way and to remind them that it was okay to do dumb things; they could only learn and grow from their mistakes. It was why she never believed in sending anyone to detention, or unjustly making them do extra work just because they screwed up one time. It was why she set out to make her classes an interactive experience; one that would make them engaged in the lessons and eager to participate. She spent her weekends coming up with teaching plans, and her way of ‘thinking-outside-the-box’ had so far earned her a lot of admiration from not just her students, but a reluctant group of the ‘old-school’ teachers. To her credit, there was a sharp increase in test scores at the end of the first half semester, compared to last year, and as the winter holidays were fast approaching, she was determined to keep those excellent grades up.

She loved her students and would do anything for them, and perhaps it was that naiveté; that innocent, wide-eyed thinking of being a ‘super’ mom and friend to them that finally got her into this mess.

Two months now…we’ve been together for almost two months…

She sighed and shuffled the papers together, wondering – and not for the first time – how an innocent attempt to help a young man in desperate need had turned into…into…whatever the heck it was they had.

When had it all really started? From the moment she laid eyes on him? No…that couldn’t be it. She had seen all her students equally that first day; although she would have been a fool not to notice that the boys had given her extra long looks – something she was already used to and didn’t put too much stock in. She knew she had always been a magnet to the opposite sex, and goodness knows she has had her share of boys and men wanting a piece of her.

It wasn’t that she was particularly picky, but she had only had one boyfriend in high school; a boy she devoted her entire life (and virginity) to. Pity he ended up being a total bastard after graduation and dumped her unceremoniously before leaving town. Getting over Taylor had been the hardest thing for her, but in college she was determined to do her best to start over and to find someone who would love and appreciate her innate qualities and not just the superficial.

She thought she had found that person in Marcus during her freshman year, but that relationship burned out faster than a wick on its last legs. He had only used her for his physical needs, and the emotional stability she desperately needed was just not there. It didn’t help that she was still raw from Taylor’s betrayal and coupled with Marcus’s distance…Daphne found herself in a state of limbo; a situation where being with another man only brought painful memories and emotional let downs. She could not afford to allow herself to be attached to anyone in such a way again. She was too fragile; too easy to mold; too easy to please them only to be crushed time and time again. She wasn’t sure her heart could deal with it any longer; hence she made the vow to keep them at arm’s length.

So what was it about David King that made her want to question her decision? If anyone would ask her today, she was sure she would be unable to put it into words.

He had done nothing spectacular on that first day; well expect to look flustered when it was his turn to introduce himself. She had thought it shy and extremely sweet and thought nothing more of it as the day progressed. However, as she looked over his test scores and overall achievement in academics, her respect and admiration for him went up a notch. He was usually quiet in class; only speaking when called upon or asked to do something, but despite this, there was an unmistakable charisma and aura (almost powerful) that he seemed to emit without knowing it. It was in the way his classmates seemed to gravitate towards him if they needed his opinions on something. It was in the way the girls battered their lashes and wanted his attention, which he was usually willing to give in the form of a polite smile or short conversation. It was in the way his other teachers praised and gave him high marks for his poise and composure under pressure. It was the way his coaches bragged about his prowess on the basketball courts or baseball fields whenever he played.

One could just about chuck him in the ‘perfect-all-American-Kid’ category and be done with it, but Daphne had sensed something else…something different…something deeper than anyone around him had been willing to explore.

Loneliness. Sadness.

Two powerful emotions that had finally come full cycle the day she ‘confronted’ him in the library. His emotional breakdown had alarmed her; the intensity of his misery and his tears causing her heart to break a million times over for him. She could still remember how tight his embrace had been when she had dared to hug him; of how small and fragile he had seemed compared to the powerful persona he presented to the rest of the world. In that small reading room, David had revealed a side of him he had never shown to anyone before, and perhaps it was in that moment…those precious quiet moments spent holding him and giving him as much silent encouragement as she possibly could…that it all began to change.

There really was nothing romantic at all about her decision to become his mentor and friend. All she had wanted to do was to listen and to offer her advice if he needed it. Their almost daily meetings after school eventually became the highlight of her days. She would even find herself watching the clock just to make sure she made it to the library on time to be with him. He spoke with a maturity that amazed her; was able to keep up with whatever topics she came up with, and seemed able to understand with a depth that most men older than him failed to comprehend. She would listen to the tales of his family, and she came to understand just how much pressure he was really under on a daily basis, and though she had offered to have a meeting with his parents, David would never allow her to pursue that route. The last thing he needed was for them to assume he was complaining about them to everyone else.

He spoke fondly of his little sister, Stephanie, and she wasn’t surprised that about 80% of their conversations centered around her. To David, Stephanie was the only thing that seemed to make sense in his world. His mother demanded too much of him and it was coming to a point where he just didn’t know what to do anymore. His father was a passive player; only butting in when absolutely necessary although David was sure he was doing his best as a Dad. He did enjoy the fishing and golfing trips they went on together as it was a chance for both men to be away from the oppressive presence of their mother/wife.

“Sometimes I dream of just taking Stephanie away from there, you know,” he’d say with a thoughtful expression on his handsome visage, while staring out the window. “I’d wake up one morning, tiptoe into her room, tell her to pack her things and we’d run away…somewhere far away where they could never find us. Like maybe…Neverland…where all the Lost Boys go.” He’d then give the most beautiful smile and look at her as if hoping she’d approve. “Do you think there could be a place like that, Daphne? A Neverland just for me and Stephanie?”

Before she could come up with some answer, perhaps wanting to tell him that Neverland was make believe and he’d really have to come to terms with reality, he’d laugh and shake his head. “Never mind. It’s all a fantasy, right? Such a place couldn’t exist anyway.”

There were nights she’d find herself sobbing into her pillow for him; wondering what she could do to ease the pain he felt. She wanted to make him happy again; to bring a real, genuine smile to this face, to make him know that the world wasn’t just about him being so perfect. Imperfections could be celebrated too, and David could live however he wanted if he so chose to. She had tried to instill that sense of freedom within him, but allowing that kiss at the beach…that was something she had definitely not foreseen…

Though you made no attempt to stop him, did you?

She trembled and nearly dropped her pen to the floor; having to clutch it tightly to remind herself of where she was. She was still in school grading some tests and the faint sounds of students still milling around the grounds, though classes were over, filtered through the windows and into her subconscious.

Had she encouraged him? Was it her fault that things had escalated to this point? Was it wrong for her to actually enjoy that moment? To finally come to terms with something that she was slowly becoming aware of though every nerve ending in her body kept telling her “No! It just isn’t right!” Was it really possible to be in love with a boy of that age? Or was she just projecting intense motherly feelings onto him? If that was the case…was it normal for a ‘mother’ to feel her heartbeat racing whenever she walked into the classroom and their eyes would meet? Was it normal for her cheeks to burn with color whenever he would share a secret smile with her during lecture? Was it normal for her to stumble over her words sometimes and fight the urge to ignore him though he raised his hand to answer a question? Was it normal to feel a light giddiness in her heart whenever they met in the library where they’d hold hands beneath the desk pretending to going over Math problems when all they did was talk about nothing substantial? Was it okay to drive him to different places after school on some days, either going back to the beach or going to a nearby park to share private moments, where their (at first) shy and tentative kisses became longer and sweeter? Was it normal for her to accept his late night calls, to listen to him whisper how much he enjoyed their day together and looked forward to seeing her again the next day? Was it stupid for her to feel happy that he even cared that much? Did ‘mothers’ feel all these things?

Yeah right.

She had tried to talk herself out of encouraging this, told herself time and time again that she was wandering into dangerous territory and she would have to nip this in the bud before it became too late. However, each time she pep talked herself into cutting things off, just looking into those deep set eyes so full of love and admiration for her, or listening to him simply whisper out her name when they were alone, would ultimately crumble her resolve. She realized she was weak, but only when it came to him. He had this power over her, and she could do nothing but accept this forbidden tryst until…until at least he graduated.

If they could manage to keep the relationship under wraps for that long that is.

It was hard to say the least. He couldn’t stay out too long because of his parents and sister, and he did have other school obligations; though he had begun to skip some of them just to keep her company. Though she was concerned about that, he would brush it aside and reassure her that he could make up the missed practices or he could always study for that Literature test another day. He was even becoming a little bolder each day with his advances; daring to corner her on the way to her next class; tugging her into an empty music room just to steal a kiss (or several).

Her initial thought process were to get upset and to demand he stop, but the impish, girlish side of her had to admit that there was something decidedly exciting about what they were doing. The likelihood of getting caught was extremely high each time they did such things, but like an addiction, they just couldn’t stop. Such teasing and innocent fun between them was beginning to reach a fever pitch, and Daphne knew that it was only a matter of time before she finally crossed that taboo line that would signal the point of no-return.

It was more than why she was glad the winter break was upon them. She needed some time away from him to get her thoughts together. He had mentioned something about his parents shipping him off to Kentucky to be with his grandparents because they were ‘whining’ again about his performances…

(all my fault)

…and they felt he needed to get away from Los Angeles to get some breathing room.

“I’m going to miss you,” he had whispered against her lips that day in her car. “But I’ll call you everyday-”

“Don’t,” she had insisted quickly.

“Why not?” He looked hurt at her quick rejection, and she tried to come up with a quick excuse.
“I’ll be in Minnesota…with my parents for the holidays.” She gave him a warm smile; placing a finger against his pout. “We need to take a break and -”

“I don’t need a break,” he cut in. “I want to be with you all the time…everyday…every minute…” He sighed and leaned into her, resting his forehead against her shoulder. “I love you so much…so much…”

She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood; aware that he needed her to say those three words back, but she still couldn’t get herself to do so. Yes, she loved him; cared for him more than it was necessary, but to tell him that would be to give him hope that there could be something between them in the future, and she didn’t want to do that to him. She was sure that in the grand scheme of things, she was nothing more than a high school crush. Like Taylor, once David graduated, she would become nothing more than a distant memory; just that older woman he once had a thing for when he was younger. However, she knew it wasn’t fair to compare the two men. It was like apples and oranges. Where Taylor was more experienced, David was no doubt still new to all this. Where Taylor had used her as an emotional punching bag, David had demanded nothing so far but her attention and presence. With David she felt like she mattered, like she was needed and wanted, and most importantly loved.

It was just a damn shame he was only…

“Daphne?”

She looked up sharply at the sound of her name, blushing faintly as she noticed who it was. It was the newest teacher added to the staff; Andy McKenzie, who was about her age and taught Music Appreciation. They had hit it off at a staff meeting, and since then Andy had gone out of his way to make it known that he was definitely interested in seeing their relationship blossom. So far, she had given him no encouragement, but that hadn’t stopped her amiable co-worker from trying. Over drinks one night, he had stated that he would “wait for as long as it takes for her to come around”.

Just what she didn’t need.

“Hello Andy,” she greeted with a smile. “All done?”

“Just about,” he replied with a matching smile as he stepped into the room. “Almost done? My offer for a quick lunch still stands. We could consider this our final lunch before we head off for the break. What do you say?”

“Andy…”

“Come on, Daphne,” came the low drawl as he leaned over the table; his gray eyes warm and inviting. “Pleeeease. Consider this the last time, okay?”

“And you promise you won’t bother me ever again?”

He crossed his heart and tried to look contrite. “Never again…well until we get back.”

She couldn’t help laughing at that, and shaking her head, she finally relented. “All right. Just a quick lunch and that’s it.”

“You have made me the happiest man in the world!”

As he began to talk about his plans for the holidays, she tuned him out while arranging her papers to slip into her small briefcase. It’s just lunch, she tells herself. Just lunch and nothing more. He’s a nice guy and nothing more will come out of it. I just need to get David out of my system and Andy is the perfect foil I need.

And yet…as she rose to her feet to allow Andy to lead her out of the room, she couldn’t help but take a quick but poignant look at the now empty (and somewhat lonesome) desk by the window, which on any other day would have been occupied by a young man with the most beautiful heart she had ever seen.

Enjoy your break, David, and please…try to get over me as best you can.

__

Grandma McBain:

Sometimes I cry 'cause I'm confused
Is this a fact of being used?
There is no life for me at all
'Cause I give myself at beck and call.

The Biltmore, December 1983

“Graaaaandmaaaaaaaa! Look what me and Grandpa did!”

She dashes into the kitchen - where the delicious smells of roasted chicken, fresh baked desserts (breads, apple pie, a key lime pie, and sponge cake) - tinkle the senses. She finds her grandmother in the midst of the cooks and maids, looking petite yet in command as she organizes another hearty brunch for family and friends.

“Grandmaaaaaaa!” comes the wail again, as Stephanie manages to squeeze between the buxom Mama Joanna and Aunt Bessie to tug on the hem of her grandmother’s sweater. “See? See? We made a bird house, Grandma.”

“Oh my,” comes the gasp of indulgent delight and pleasure. She stops long enough to admire the small, wooden bird house her granddaughter holds up with pride. There’s no doubt her dear husband must have done the carpentry and the person responsible for the colorful yellow walls and green roof was none other than the precocious angel before her. “That looks beautiful, Stephanie. Did you make that all by yourself?”

“Uh huh...well the painting I did. But I knocked some nails in on the side here and Grandpa made the walls and roof. Isn’t it the coolest?”

“It is indeed? What are you going to do with it?”

“Put it in the garden and put some bird food in it.” She peers into the house which stands empty. “Grandpa said I can get some bird seeds in the pantry. Can I get some?”

“Of course you can. Josephine? Could you find some bird seeds for Stephanie?”

“Yes, ma’am,” comes the reply from one of the maids who smiles warmly at the little girl. “Come along now, Miss. Stephanie. Let’s go find us some seeds, eh?”

“Yeah!” She prepares to leave but is stopped by the curious query from her grandmother.

“Where’s your brother?”

For a moment, the cheerful expression disappears and a dark look, almost despondent, crosses her pretty features. “He’s out walking again,” she finally replies with a pout and shrug. “Says he wants to be alone for a while. So we left him.”

“I see.” She opens her mouth to say something else, but decides against it. She settles for wrapping her arms around her grandchild to give a hug, before placing a soft kiss on her temple. “There now, go find those seeds and then take it to the garden, okay? We’ll see if any bird gets into the house, eh?”

“All right!” The cheerful expression returns, and Gloria McBain watches – with a somewhat heavy feeling in her chest – as her granddaughter skips after Josephine with her newest treasure.

The poor dear.

The signs of the holiday season are everywhere; from the inch of snow that finally fell about two days ago, to the decorations that fill every room in the estate. Most of the Christmas decorations were set up in the last week of November, but there was no greater pleasure than having her grandchildren participate in setting up the huge Christmas tree in the main living room. It was a tradition that was always carried out each year – at first with only David – until Stephanie came along, and this year was no different. Each child had their special ornaments they hung with care, and the climax of the tree-setting ‘ceremony’ came with Grandpa hoisting Stephanie on his broad shoulders just so she could place the antique porcelain angel at the very top.

The presence of her grandchildren always made her home more inviting and warm during the holidays whether they were here for only a week or a month. Although if you were to ask her, she would confess that it was hardly enough time during the entire year to spend with them. The most they had been with her was during their summer break last year, where they had stayed for the entire three months. Other than that, she only got to see them the month of their winter holidays or Christmas, and the weeks of Easter and Thanksgiving.

It seemed like every time they returned, there was something a little different about her grandchildren, mostly the height and puberty changes occurring with her grandson. It appeared as if the boy shot up every other day, and since the summer break his voice had changed as well as his mannerisms. One thing that had remained a constant, however, was the closeness between brother and sister. David’s fierce protectiveness over Stephanie was endearing to anyone who witnessed their interactions. They just about held hands everywhere they went, and in the first few years of her life, she refused to sleep anywhere else but in her brother’s arms. Not that Gloria could blame her. The bedroom designated for Stephanie wasn’t exactly ‘small’ in size, and could be intimidating to a little child.

All the same, there was no doubt that David adored his little sister – absolutely no doubt at all about their relationship...until this year.

Gloria was yet to really place her finger on it, and though it was not so obvious at first glance, there was a feeling that David was beginning to distance himself from the little girl that once meant the world to him. Sure he still talked and smiled and acted the role of big brother, but when in the past both siblings were just about inseparable, nowadays it seemed like David was more likely to wander off to do this own thing, while Stephanie was left to keep herself entertained as best as possible. Perhaps she should have realized something was wrong when her daughter had complained about it when the kids were dropped off.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, Mom,” Regina sighed as they both watched the children running outside with Grandpa’s huge Siberian Husky, in a game of tag, from the comfort of the sun room. “His mood swings are puzzling. I mean I can understand him going through that stage as a teenager, but are they supposed to be this distant from their parents?”

“You acted the same way too, sweetheart,” Gloria reasoned with a small smile. “You wouldn’t listen to a thing we said and wanted to do your own thing. Perhaps David feels the same way too.”

Regina snorted at this and took another sip of her tea. “The other day I took him out to lunch...you know, just to have a mother-son conversation, and he would barely speak to me...or even look at me.” With a groan of resignation, she buried her face within her arms on the table. “I don’t know what else to do. Short of sending him to boarding school, I’m running out of options.”

Gloria reached out to stroke her daughter’s forehead gently, wishing she could suggest that she just send the children here to live instead of being so far away in Los Angeles. She knew David loved it here, and had told her that he did wish he could remain here for the rest of his life, but Gloria knew such a thing would upset her daughter who was really trying her best to be a good mother...even if her methods were not always recommended. Why she can still remember the last time they had an argument over the phone about spoiling David with too many toys and not even ‘real’ human friends to play with. The end result had been Regina slamming the phone and David not showing up for Christmas that year. Gloria had learned to pick her battles with her stubborn and only child, and had no plans to start up another fight that might result in her never seeing her grandchildren again.

“What about Harold? How is he handling it?” she finally asked.

Regina lifted her head long enough to give a response. “He’s doing his best too. He takes David out for his golf games and fishing trips and goodness knows what they talk about, but Harold can’t seem to really find anything wrong besides a boy going through that stage of puberty. He says David is relaxed on the trips and seems happy.”

“Maybe he’s working too hard at school and is just tired.”

“Which is why I’m hoping this holiday would snap him out of it,” Regina replied with a shake of her head. “You don’t mind us leaving them with you, do you? We’ll be back for Christmas and New Year’s.”

“Of course not, you know we’d love to keep them here for as long as you’d like,” Gloria insisted with a firm nod. “You don’t have to ask permission. They are our grandchildren, you know.”

“Thanks, Mom. Maybe...maybe you can help him where we can’t...”

“Don’t shortchange yourself, Regina. Parenting is the most difficult job in the world after all. There are no real manuals out there to give you lessons on what to do. You just have to do what you know in your heart is best for your children.”

Sigh.

Those were simply words said to cheer up her child and nothing more. What was a mother to do after all? Just as Regina felt she wasn’t up to par, Gloria wonders if she is really any better. She doubts she will be able to make much of an impact, but as she finds herself shrugging into her jacket and boots to head outside in search of her grandson, she prays she’ll be able to make some breakthrough...if there really is something going on.

It isn’t hard to find him. After all, it is his favorite place to be, and on a beautiful summer’s day, he was more than likely to join her for a day of fishing or simply lying in a boat drifting away with nothing to do. Today, however, due to the snow and cold weather, the lake sits still and somewhat frozen. Most of the trees, which would have shrouded the lake from the view of the house, now lie naked and bare; skeletal structures of their former selves. There is a stark beauty to the scenery, and seeing her grandson sitting on the edge of the pier; his feet dangling over the edge – seems to add to its melancholic atmosphere.

“And there he is,” she calls out quietly; her boots thud, thudding across the wooden planks with bits of snow and ice still frozen within its cracks. “Mind if I join you, young man?”

David lifts his gaze to smile softly at his grandmother before patting the space next to him with a gloved hand. With a matching smile, she settles beside him with a light grunt, and for a long while both are simply content to watch the lake in companionable silence.

“Ever wondered what ice fishing is like?” she finally asks, still not looking at him as she does this.

“Ice fishing? I don’t think the lake is that frozen, Grandma. See?” He points towards a section that ripples a little with the breeze. He purses his lips and allows a cloud of smoke to make its escape. “Would be cool though. I guess I could do that when I get to Alaska someday.”

“So Alaska is in your future?”

“Maybe,” comes the cryptic reply. He cocks his head to give her a slightly mischievous look. “I could become an Eskimo and hide away there and no one would know it was me.”

“I see.” She nods and turns her gaze back to the lake. “So...you’d like to hide away, David? Is that what you see for your future?”

He shrugs and swings his legs back and forth slowly; refusing to say anything. She tries again. “What do you see for your future, David?”

This time, she barely catches the brief tightening of his lips; an indication that she is probably stepping into territory she had no business in. “I’ll go to college,” he finally replies with another shrug and a barely audible sigh of resignation. “Get my degree in Medicine and become a doctor like they want.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re too excited about it, although your parents say your grades are excellent in the Sciences.”

“Whatever.” Another shrug. His head lowers and seems to want to shrink into his parka.

“David...”

“Look, I’ll do what they want me to do and everyone will be happy and get off my back.” He sits up and kicks out a little more violently. “God, I can’t wait to be eighteen to move out of that house.”

If she’s shocked at this sudden vehement revelation, she says nothing for a while, until finally. “Are you unhappy at home, David?”

He remains silent.

“David?” she asks again, trying to reach out to touch his arm; his flinch breaks her heart and she withdraws. So this is what Regina is talking about. This is what she means by the wall he;s building up. He's shutting her out...shutting everyone out. There's something wrong and he isn’t sharing with anyone or doesn't feel he can trust the adults in his family enough to do so. Why that makes her incredibly sad, she has no idea.

“David,” she begins quietly, now looking back out at the lake. “I can’t sit here and give you advice because I don’t know what you go through at home or at school, although I do wish in my heart that I could be closer to you and Stephanie. But I will tell you this as your grandmother and someone who loves you so very much...please do not shut us out. Perhaps we are not the perfect family, but your father and mother love you so very much in their own way and want what’s best for you. So if there’s anything wrong that -”

“Why must everyone assume that something is wrong with me?” comes the blunt statement filled with a bitterness she cannot comprehend. She looks at him and notices the pained yet irritated expression on his visage. “I am not sick or doing drugs or anything weird like that,” he continues, his voice rising with passion. “Is that what Mom told you? She told you that I was into stuff like that, right? She asked you come talk to me, didn’t she? Jesus! Why can’t she just mind her own damn business and butt out?!”

“David Malcolm King!” Gloria snaps in disbelief. “You will watch how you speak to me, young man.”

For a second he looks as if he’ll fight back, but just as suddenly as his anger had erupted, he seems to deflate and shrink back into the parka; turning away from her to stare at the lake in silence. Finally a muttered, “Sorry, Grandma”, has her reaching out to pull him into her arms; wanting to hug away his anger, his frustration, his sadness.

He allows her to do so for a while, but eventually he pulls away; giving her a small smile as if apologizing for acting so childishly.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that, Grandma,” he says softly; reaching out to caress her cheek tenderly. “I don’t want you to be sad. Really. I’m fine. I just need...need to straighten out some things on my own, that’s all.”

Who was this man-child before her? Where was her little David? The one who had sat on her lap listening to her read stories? The one who, in diapers, who liked to crawl all over the place like the Energizer Bunny? Who was this young man with such dark eyes filled with sorrow, yet a wisdom that went beyond his years? Why did it suddenly feel as if she was talking to a stranger; someone who was pretending to be her grandson and not the one she had come to love and adore with all her heart? Why did it feel as if she was losing him in some way?

He’s just growing up, that’s all, Gloria. Just like you felt when Regina finally left the nest, you are finding it hard to let go of the child he was and it is most difficult coming to terms that they are becoming adults. That’s all. Perhaps that is the fear Regina and Harold are facing. Perhaps they do not know how to react or to deal with a boy who is making that most treacherous transition into adulthood. That is all.

“Grandma?” comes the soft query as David peers into her face with a raised brow. “You okay?”

“I’m...” She wants to say she’s not; that she is most definitely not fine with the way things are, but all she can do is clasp his hand within hers and squeeze it gently in reassurance. “I will be fine, David,” she finally says aloud. “The question is...will you be okay?”

Later on, she would reminisce on how beautiful his smile had been on that cold December afternoon; that despite it all, for just a brief moment, her dearest grandson had broken through that fragile shield of adulthood to reveal his youth one last time.

“I’ll be okay, Grandma. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll be just fine.”

__

David:

Something's soon to come over you
You just can't please the world and yourself
You gotta start doing what's right for you
'Cause life is being happy yourself

Los Angeles, March 1984

In actuality, things couldn’t be better for David at this point in his life and one of the big reasons for this was the upcoming Victory Tour which was to start in July. Though the announcement had been made around November last year - and just about everyone in school went nuts over this as plans to purchase tickets as soon as they were made available was on everyone’s lips - David went into overdrive in the quest to get his tickets as soon as possible. It involved writing to the Michael Jackson fan club often, listening to radio stations for possible contests that gave away tickets, or scouring magazines and newspapers for anything related to ticket purchase dates.

As if that wasn’t big enough, the debut of the music video or mini-movie Thriller had sent his little fan boy heart nearly collapsing with excitement. What words could adequately express how fantastic that video was? No one – in the history of music – had ever seen anything like it, and after the holidays, it was what everyone in school kept talking about. Girls wished they could be Ola Ray, and some of them even began to wear their hair in the same shoulder-length curls, while the boys tried to strut like Michael and perform the same dance moves seen in the video. The new gag was to jump out of hiding places to scare the girls; pretending they were werewolves or zombies and buying ridiculous oversized masks from costume shops just to get their kicks.

After watching the music video for the one-millionth time (which at first had scared the shit out of Stephanie, but now she was just plain bored with the whole affair), David penned a letter to Michael, knowing he might not even get to read it, but it still didn’t hurt to let him know that he approved of his latest effort.

Dear Michael,
Thank you for creating such a wonderful music video to such a brilliant song. I enjoyed watching Thriller, and my little sister – her name is Stephanie – thought it was scary as hell, but now she’s not so scared anymore because she says it’s only you beneath all that make up. I had to convince her of that actually. I have watched Thriller about a million times, and I can say all the words and do all the dance moves. What’s even better and more exciting is that I might finally get to see you on tour! I am saving up my money to buy tickets when they start going on sale, and I plan to go to every single date you have in Los Angeles as long as it’s not on a school day. Mom won’t let me watch you on a Wednesday because of school on Thursday. But anyway, I cannot wait to see you in person, and I’m sure it’s going to be a great show because you are the best.
Thank you for being such an inspiration. I love you so very much.
Love,
David King.

P.S: Could you please sign something for my sister and write ‘To Stephanie from Michael’? She keeps complaining that she gets nothing from you, and I want to convince her that you really are as nice as you come across on T.V. and in the magazines. Thank you.

He was yet to receive a response for that particular letter, but it was okay. He knew that Michael was a busy man and had more important things to do than waste his time reading all the millions of letters he must get from fans all over the world. The key was making the effort.

On the flip side, his love life was...well...exciting to say the least. While his buddies spoke of conquering the senior girls, it took all of his willpower not to brag about being involved with a much older woman, let alone someone they saw on a daily basis in school. It was a conquest that would, no doubt, earn him some admirers and perhaps a jealous few, but he was smart enough to know that he had to keep his mouth shut at all costs. He didn't dare jeopardize something this wonderful just for bragging rights.

The holidays couldn’t end fast enough and school couldn’t begin quick enough. He had kept his promise not to call her during the long four week break, and the anticipation of seeing her angelic features again was driving him insane. He came to school earlier than he usually did and waited patiently for her arrival. Unfortunately, distraction came in the form of his friends who wanted his undivided attention. Hence his romantic welcome was thwarted as he was forced to hang out with them. However, his opportunity to see her again came during Math class, and he was more than glad to discover that his feelings had not changed in the slightest. If anything, they had become even stronger, and he was sure she felt it too for the smile she gave (just directed at him) was enough to have him sighing with lovesick delight. They finally got their long awaited reunion in the privacy of her car, far from prying eyes and society’s glare. Though she had seemed lukewarm at first, she eventually caved in; their kisses eager and passionate as the realization that she really did miss him hit her harder than she thought.

The turning point came the day she finally invited him to her apartment. He had begged and pleaded with her several times already, and each time she would decline with some excuse or another. On this day, however, she had no other choice but to take him there, all thanks to a thunderstorm that had forced his baseball practice to be canceled. He had three hours with nothing to do, and instead of going straight home as he should have, he pleaded with her one last time...

...and that was all it took.

He fell in love with her home the moment he walked in; though he had told himself during the drive there that nothing was going to happen besides their usual ‘first-base-play’. She had managed to turn a once dingy, tiny, cramped space into a warm, soothing environment that was sadly lacking in the mansion he called a home. How he wished he could live here with her forever.

She prepared a quick lunch for him, and together they shared it on her sofa, while watching some cheesy afternoon movie that made no sense.

Her laughter infected him; her sweet innocence in that moment overwhelmed him, and before he could control himself, he was claiming her lips in a kiss that was nothing like the others they had shared before. There was something more intense in this; something deeper than she cared to admit as she melted against him and allowed him to do as he pleased. His shy tentative fingers had brushed against the swell of her breasts, and when she would have usually stopped him, she simply closed her eyes and sighed...giving him permission to go even further.

Later that night, he’d sit at his desk; body still thrumming with adrenaline and the heady excitement of what he had experienced today. As he wrote the words in his diary...

I saw her naked tonight. She looked so shy and sweet; embarrassed at what she was doing. She made me swear that I’d never tell anyone about this, and I plan to keep my promise. But oh, to feel the warmth of a woman’s body…to touch her skin and to taste it. Her breathless sighs as she called out my name made me feel more like a man than anyone ever could.

...he still couldn’t believe that he had finally lost his virginity...and to a woman he loved more than life itself. He had to pinch himself hard to believe he was even still alive, and though he had been embarrassed that he had his orgasm so quickly, she had been kind and encouraging; letting him know that it was okay and that there was absolutely nothing to be ashamed about. What made the afternoon even sweeter was that she was not averse to a simple cuddle, and once they were cleaned up, his shy permission to hug her in bed was accepted with no questions asked.

Even now, he could still smell the thick scent of her musk combined with the flowery smell of her sheets which made him ache with desire. His fingers still burned with the sensation of her flesh...her smooth pale skin that was curved in all the right places. The secret between her legs was decidedly much better than that of Evelyn’s, and as he had dreamed and fantasized about, Daphne’s moans of pleasure were a far cry from the pants of strain his teenage girlfriend had given. With Daphne, it felt more genuine and exciting and just...wonderful...and at the moment when he was finally led into her warmth...

Oh God.

“David?”

“Jesus!” He jerked and looked up with guilt etched on his features, forcing his erection to die quickly as he noticed who it was. Stephanie was standing at his doorway; dressed in her pajamas and looking as if she had just woken from another nightmare. He tried to still his thudding heartbeat, glad it wasn’t his parents peeking in on him again. He closed the diary quickly and tossed it into his drawer before moving towards his sibling.

“What’s the matter, Princess?”

“Can I stay in your room tonight?” she whimpered. “I had another nightmare about...werewolves.”

Oh God, not again.

“Princess,” he began with an inner sigh. “You can’t keep sleeping in my room, you know. You’re going to be eight in a couple of days. You’re a big girl now.”

She gave him a look of such disappointment, that he felt like a complete heel for turning her down.

“All right, you can stay...” he began, already cursing the fact that he wouldn't get a chance to pleasure himself to Daphne's image as he had hoped.

“It’s all right,” Stephanie suddenly said with a shake of her head as if coming to a decision within her mind. “I’ll go back to my bedroom.”

“Princess...” he groaned, now feeling sorry for sounding so abrupt. “You can stay if you want. Really.”

“No, I don’t want to stay,” came the cold statement that actually hurt. “You don’t want me anyway...and you’ve stopped wanting me for a while.”

“Stephanie-”

“Some strange woman keeps calling here for you when they’re not home...who is she?”

He squashed the quick flash of irritation. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, Stephanie, and you had better not be telling Mom and Dad about it either.”

She shrugged. “I don’t...at least not yet. Who is she?”

“She’s a classmate.”

“She doesn’t sound like a classmate.”

His lips tightened for a moment. “You’re sounding like a spoiled little brat again, Stephanie.”

She said nothing for a long time, both staring at each other; silent accusations and hurt swirling like a thunderous monsoon around them. Her lower lip trembled, but she took a deep breath and resisted the urge to cry. He was right. She was becoming a big girl now. Still...

Where was her brother? Just who was this cold person before her? She didn’t understand what was happening...couldn’t understand what was happening, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“Mom was right,” she finally whispered, as if more to herself than to him. “You are changing, David.”

And what’s wrong with me changing? He wanted to bellow, but he was left to simply stare after her retreating form before she closed the door to her room behind her with a soft click. In the silence, David stared at his hands and wondered (and not for the first time) if she was right after all.

It was true that since his involvement with Daphne, his time with Stephanie was not as all consuming as it used to be, but could one blame him? Spending time with the woman he loved was more emotionally stabilizing and rewarding than hanging around a kid sister who doted on him and wanted so much more that what he could provide. Perhaps in a way Stephanie was like his mother...but a gentler version. It was always David this and David that, and it really was time for her to start being independent...even if it meant teaching her the basics the hard way.

__


We made love again last night, and this time, finally, finally she tells me that she loves me too. That she’s never felt this way about another person before, and that it’s terrible that I’m only fifteen. However, I tell her that I don’t mind the age difference. Love is no respecter of age after all. I swore that once I got into college, I’d find a way to marry her, and she laughed and hugged me and told me I was so precious. This was the best birthday present I could ever get.

__

Miss Simmons:

The life you're leading is dangerous
It's so dangerous, dangerous all
The life you're leading is dangerous
Doggone dangerous, dangerous, dangerous

Exeter Academy
Los Angeles, May 1984

“You want to tell me what’s going on, Daphne?”

She looks up with a start, wondering what Andy is talking about and why he is suddenly looking so serious. They are in the staff lounge, where she is taking a break before heading to her next class for the day. Besides Mrs. Brandstone, who's getting some coffee from the coffee machine, they are the only ones in here.

“What are you talking about?” she asks with a raised brow.

The 'maestro' (as fondly labeled by his students) sits across from her; arms folded on his chest with a light frown on his visage. “There’s rumors floating around, and I am usually not one to focus on such trivial matters, but...some students are suggesting that you and...well one of your students might be engaged in activities that are non-educational.”

She feels a sudden weight – as heavy as lead – settle in the pit of her stomach, but she shows no outward appearance of panic. “Those are only rumors as you say, Andy,” she says aloud, glad that her voice is steady and composed. “If I have any ‘non-educational’ activity as you suggest, it’s only because I like to know more about my students outside the classroom.”

“Enough to keep seeing him at least three times a week?”

The weight becomes heavier, and her tongue suddenly feels parched. “What are you trying to imply...?” she breathes.

“Daphne, the rest of the school or staff might be blind, but I’m not.” He purses his lips and tries to hide his concern. “You spend a lot of time with David King, don’t you?”

She uncrosses her legs and takes a deep breath, trying to control the welling rise of anxiety. “Listen to me, Andy. I do not appreciate what you are trying to insinuate. David and I have a perfectly normal teacher-student relationship. He assists me with some school work and that’s about it...”

“Daphne...” He sighs and runs a hand through his sandy-blond hair. “I saw you both kissing in your car at the park last week.”

She is unable to hide the quick flash of fear that fills her eyes, and that’s more than enough to make his heart sink with even more disappointment. “So, it is true,” he mutters to himself. “I don’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it when I saw it, and just assumed it was my mind playing tricks on me. Just what the hell are you thinking?”

He has to lower his voice as two other teachers walk in and quick pleasantries are exchanged. He rises to his feet and walks closer to the frozen female to whisper into her ear. “His grades are slipping. His focus not all there as you must have noticed. You are ruining the kid before he even has a chance to make something of himself. Why don’t you do him and yourself a favor and end this now before it becomes too late? Quit...hell, leave the fucking state if you have to, but do it quickly before the rumors become the truth. I can only back you up for so long.”

And with a look that speaks volumes; a mixture of disgust, pity, and that painful expression of disappointment, Andy leaves the room without another word.

The ominous threat hangs like a cloud over her head all day. Paranoia sets in like a virus; eating at her insides as every eye trained on her appear to be spies simply waiting to catch her in the act. She can already see the headlines:

Teacher Involved with 15-year-old Student in Sordid Affair.

She can already picture the meetings that will be held by the board of directors, her shameful resignation, her parents' humiliation, but most importantly, the legacy this would leave for David who deserved so much better than to be expelled or to graduate in shame. All she had wanted to be was a bright beacon in his life, and hadn’t he told her countless times of just how much of a difference she had made? Hadn’t he whispered how happy he was when he was with her, and how much better he felt when in her presence?

How could she bear to look him in the face now that at least Andy was aware of their intimate relationship? How could she teach effectively, knowing that she was now under intense scrutiny for allowing the sins of the flesh to overtake rationale? What plausible reason could she give for allowing things to escalate to this point?

/Quit...hell leave the state if you have to./

She stumbles into an empty staff restroom and hides herself in a stall; hands covering her face as she trembles violently with the force of her terror.

I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m so damn afraid.

OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodwhatamIgoingtodo?PleasetellmewhatcanIdo?

__


David:

Sometimes I cry 'cause I'm confused
Is this a fact of being used
There is no life for me at all
'Cause I give myself at back and call

It all started in class...when she barely spared him a glance despite his many attempts to get her attention.

He would later find himself waiting for over an hour at their usual meeting place after school, feeling more and more like a fool when she didn’t show up.

He tried calling her number later that evening, and she wouldn’t pick up the phone. He even left a message on her voice recorder; begging her to give him a call.

“If I did anything to upset you, please tell me. I just want to talk to you, that’s all. I love you.”

She never called back.

The same routine happened in school the next day. He got there early. She showed up late so he never got the chance to confront her before the first bell. In class, she never called on him and seemed to literally give him the cold shoulder. He slipped a note into her notebook as they left the class, hoping she’d meet him in the school library at least. Instead, he was stood up...again, and by the time he left the library to see if she was even still around, her car was gone from its usual spot; a clear sign she had gone home without letting him know.

He didn’t understand it. What did he do wrong? Why was she acting this way?

Desperate for answers, he took the bus to her apartment and was relieved to see her car in the parking lot. He knew he ought to be home by now. He knew his parents would be calling at any minute to find out if he was back from 'practice', but he didn’t care. To hell with whatever consequences awaited him. He had to know why Daphne was suddenly avoiding him like the plague.

He knocked and pressed the doorbell for almost ten minutes; earning a few strange looks from neighbors who wondered why there was some kid in his school uniform causing such a goddamn ruckus. He tried to peer into the peephole but could see nothing. Her car was there, so why wasn’t she answering the door? Did she go out with someone else? That had to be it. She must have left with a friend using the friend’s car, so she wasn’t home apparently.

I’ll wait then, he decided. I’ll wait for as long as it takes.

He got out his hefty English textbook and sat on it to make himself comfortable, and leaning against the wall beside her front door, he prepared himself for her arrival. He raised his knees and wrapped his arms around them, ignoring the curious looks he received and not bothering to engage in conversation with a couple of people who wanted to know what he was doing sitting out there like that.

An hour slipped into two...then three...and still nothing. His heated face was buried against his knees in misery; his breath beginning to hitch as he struggled to fight back the tears that threatened to break free. Evening was fast approaching, and he knew if he didn't leave soon, he was going to miss the last bus likely to drop him off near his neighborhood. He strained his ears to listen, hoping there would be some kind of sound from within to show that perhaps she had taken a nap and just hadn't heard him knocking or ringing the doorbell all this time. Unfortunately, it was difficult to do so because of the noises emanating from the other apartments. It was hard to differentiate one from the other, and his resolve finally crumbled when tantalizing smells of evening dinners finally forced him to his feet. His stomach rumbled with hunger, and as he shrugged on his backpack, he had to steady himself against the wrought iron railing lest he pass out from exhaustion.

He'd definitely speak to her tomorrow in school. No matter what. Even if it meant confronting her in front of the school, he was going to make sure he found out just what he had done wrong, but most importantly, what he could do to set things right again.

As predicted, his parents were not too happy with him sauntering home at half past nine that night, and he not only got grounded, but had a few privileges taken away from him. He suffered his mother's angry tirade. He bore his father's 'I-am-so-disappointed-in-you' spiel in silence, knowing he probably deserved it. He must have apologized or said something to appease them for they finally allowed him to go to his room, where he flopped onto his bed like a rag doll; face buried within the pillow as he sobbed his heart out. So deep was he in his sorrow, he failed to recognize the small arms that wrapped around him in silence; desperately hoping to give him some of the warmth he seemed to need.

The next day, he decided to change his tactic; not waiting for her in the morning, but choosing to skip his Spanish class just so he could catch her leaving the staff room. She would have to walk down the flight of stairs to the second floor, and since everyone was going to be in their classrooms by then, there was no way she could avoid seeing him waiting for her at the bottom of the steps.

Her gasp of surprise or shock was enough to let him know that she was indeed deliberately avoiding him. Hell, the guilt was deeply etched on her features, before she quickly tried to mask it with a look of cool indifference.

“Why aren't you in class, David?” she asked; arms tightening around her text books pressed to her chest. If she noticed the faint bags around his eyes, she refused to acknowledge it. “You could get in trouble for this.”

“I need to talk to you,” he stated firmly as he rose to his feet. “And I'm not letting you go until we do.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before lifting her lashes to pin a cold and very unwelcome gaze at him. “David. You must remember that I am still your teacher, and I am under no obligation to attend to your every need. I have many other students I have to take care of besides you.”

A physical slap couldn't have hurt any more, and David's stricken expression at her statement had her hands tightening even more around the books until her knuckles turned white with the effort. He would never know how hard it was for her to say those words, and how much it killed her to act this way to him. But she had to do this for his sake. He would have to get over her, and if it meant pushing him away this...cruelly, then so be it.

“You...you don't mean that,” he finally whispered in a voice that was hoarse and thick with his unshed tears. “You don't mean that.”

“Yes, I do, David,” she said firmly.

“But...but what about...everything?” he asked in a strangled voice. “All those times you said I meant so much to you and...and when you said...said...”

You told me you loved me! His mind cried out in confusion. You said I could trust you! You said you would be my friend! That you'd never betray me! Why are you doing this to me?! Why?!

“David, even you must have realized that what happened between us was...not right...”

“No...” he moaned, unable to look at her now. His grip on the wooden banister tightened and he swayed a little. “No...”

This isn't happening.

“David, you've got to forget everything that happened between us. We can never be together, and being with me...is not beneficial to you.”

“No...”

Thisisn'thappening.Thisisn'thappening.This.is.not.happening! You can't do this to me! I've given you so much! You can't hurt me too!

She gave a snort of derision and began to walk down the stairs, trying to get past him. “This is ridiculous. We are not having this conversation anymore. You should head over to your -”

“No!” he suddenly cried out, reaching out to try to wrap his arms around her; hoping that perhaps a hug was all it would take to get her to love him again. He wanted to feel her warmth one more time, to remind her of just how good they were together, and of all the fun times they had shared. This was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare. She was doing this as a prank and later they would laugh over it in her quaint little apartment, where she'd make him lunch or dinner before they made love again and again and again and...

“What are you doing?” she shrieked, slightly afraid of the manic look of desperation in his eyes, while trying to back away at the same time.

Oh my God. I've driven him to this! Me! I've driven him-!

“Please Daphne,” he pleaded with a choked sob, still struggling to get his arms around her. “Please don't do this to me. I beg you -”

“What's going on here?!” came the thunderous query that caused both to look up and into the bemused yet furious expression on the principal's visage. Beside him – like sentry -were two other male staff members, one of them being Andy. He only gave a cursory glance at the trembling woman before motioning for the other teacher to assist him in apprehending a rather non-resistant David.

“Are you all right, Miss. Simmons?” Mr. Donahue – the principal – asked as he walked closer to the scene. “He didn't try to harm you, did he?”

“...no...he...he didn't,” she whispered, although this didn't seem to satisfy the red-faced man.

Donahue turned to face the teenager; unable to believe that the boy literally hanging between the two men, his head now and now clearly sobbing silently, could be the same bright-eyed young man who was the talk of the school and the supposed 'super star'. What he had witnessed earlier was a boy clearly about to attack his teacher for some inexplicable reason, and it was obvious the experience was still traumatizing to the young female. He just couldn't understand why David would have to act this rashly.

“You will be sent home, Mr. King,” he finally announced coldly. “With a write up to your parents about this incident. This is clearly an assault on your teacher, and it is likely to have you locked away in juvenile hall. Is that what you want?”

He received no answer, and this got him even more riled. “Take him to my office,” he commanded firmly, “And have one of his classmates bring his items there. I think Mr. King needs some time away from school to come to terms with his decision.”

By this time, Mrs. Moore – another teacher – had come to the scene and was now leading Daphne away, trying to soothe her with words of comfort.

She took a moment to glance over her shoulder to see David one last time, but all she could see was his deflated figure being led away by two bigger men, as if he was nothing more than a common prisoner. She was unable to control the harsh sob that escaped her lips, and her final break down in the safety of Mrs. Moore's office only did more to give them the wrong idea.

There was just no way she could tell these people that she was the one at fault; that the real victim was David and not her. Unfortunately, the damage was done and there was simply nothing left to do but to leave everything behind and try to start anew somewhere far away from here.

She would put in her resignation first thing tomorrow morning.

It was all she could do now to atone for her sins.

__


Stephanie:

Sometimes I cry 'cause I'm confused
Is this a fact of being used
There is no life for me at all
'Cause I give myself at back and call

Los Angeles, June 1984

She balanced the tray gingerly in her hands, hoping she wouldn't spill anything as she made her way slowly up the stairs and toward her brother's room.

She nudged the door open with a hip and forcing a smile on her face, she tried to call out as cheerfully as she could. “I brought you something to eat, David. Just some sandwiches and orange juice. I made them myself.”

She received the usual silence, his prone figure on the bed immobile and buried beneath his blanket. Not to be deterred, she placed the tray on his desk; having to shove aside some of his textbooks and magazines to make some room.

“I'll open your windows,” she began, moving to do just that. It was three in the afternoon after all, and David had locked himself away in here all day. In fact, he had been doing that for the past few weeks especially after he got that suspension where he got to stay home for two weeks from something bad that he did he school. She really didn't understand how David could do anything bad at school. Everyone liked him, so it was all confusing to her when her father tried to explain that David was being punished.

She had overheard her parents discussing something about military and boarding school, and she had even seen some brochures for schools in other states, some even as far as England. She wasn't sure if this meant that David would be sent away from here, and she sincerely prayed it wouldn't be the case. She didn't think she could bear to live in this house all alone without him. Maybe if she was lucky, the military or boarding school would have a special place for little sisters, so she could take care of him.

“David?” she called out while picking up his pile of clothes from the floor. Despite their mother demanding that he make sure his pig-sty of a room was cleaned by the time she got home, her brother had refused to do anything. In fact, it was safe to say that David had turned a deaf ear to anything his parents had to say. He seemed to be lost in his own world now, content to remain locked in his room, scribbling things in his journal or listening to his music. He hardly ate, and even when he was forced to join the family for dinner, he would pick at his food, only to ask to be excused when the farce was played out enough.

His return to school had been with little fanfare, and if anyone wondered why he was suspended in the first place, they said nothing about it. Unfortunately, since it was at the same time Miss. Simmons had suddenly decided to resign as a teacher, the rumor mills had gone haywire; many claiming that something must have happened between the two of them. Though no one could come to anything conclusive.

Evelyn – not surprisingly - distanced herself from him, and even his supposed 'buddies' seemed to drift away. It was only Adrian who stuck around, and even then, his attempts to restore David back to the fun-loving kid he used to be, failed pitifully. Nothing seemed to bring the boy any joy now. He was benched for the rest of the season as his dismal performance on the basketball court had caused them a couple of games. His grades were less than desirable, though he wasn't failing by any means, but compared to the high standards he had set so far, his Bs and Cs were enough to give Regina nightmares.

“Guess what I did in school yesterday?” Stephanie prodded on, as she swiveled on his seat slowly, trying hard not to cry as she began to speak of all the 'fun' things she participated in. She did her best to paint a colorful scene of excitement as they prepared for the school play; the final one to end the school year before another long summer break. She tried singing some lines from her role as Sleeping Beauty to cheer him up, but all she got for her efforts was his painful silence.

She eventually gave up after an hour, but not before finding herself staring at a particular poster of her brother's idol which seemed to hover over him.

His passive angel.

“Why don't you help him now?” she whispered, not sure why she was even asking a poster this question. She knew Michael Jackson couldn't hear her, and even if he could, just what did she expect him to do? All the same...it still hurt to know that the one person her brother worshipped could only stare at him impassively while he suffered.

It just didn't seem fair.

She tiptoed to his bed to place a hard kiss on his head of hair, before resting her cheek against his back and closing her eyes...simply content to listen to his steady heartbeat.

It just wasn't fair at all.

__


David:

Then you should bless his soul
It's hard to find
A person like you
You're one of a kind
If I were you, I'd change my mind
And start living for me in these changing times

July 16th, 1984

I am weary.

It is a weariness that has eroded what little soul I have left.

I just simply have nothing more to give. Absolutely nothing at all.

I have done my best to be what everyone expects me to be, and I have come to a point where I know I am likely to go insane if I continue to live this lie.

And still every day I ask myself...was it so wrong to want to love someone? Was it so wrong to need someone so desperately? Would you think less of me for choosing this path in life? All I wanted was for someone to love me for me, and I thought I had found that person, but nothing came of it.

Nothing at all.

My heart aches every day, and not even your sweet innocence can make it any better.

I wanted so very much to be there with you when you become a young woman. I really would have liked to watch you graduate from high school and from college, to be there when you exchanged your wedding vows, and to grow old with you, but most importantly, I wanted to see you really happy. God knows I would do anything to see you smile for me again.

How I wish I could be so much stronger than you give me credit for, but as I watch you try so hard every day to fill my shoes, I realize that in the end...you were my strength after all. You have a resilience and inner beauty you are not fully aware of yet, and someday it is going to be an asset that will keep you going when you feel all might be lost. I might not be there for you until the very end, but I know that when you grow up, you will become an amazing woman and a force to be reckoned with.

Remember that you can be anyone and anything you wish to be. You can decide what your future holds, and you must choose what's best for you and not what others expect of you. Ironic, isn't it? That I should give you all this advice when I can't even see it through, but that is the difference between you and I. You might not see it now, but it is there. It has always been there. You just have to work a little harder to let it shine through.

I know I did not say this often, especially during those dark days, but I want you to remember that no matter what happens from here on out, you will always – always - hold a special place in my heart until my dying day.

Thank you so much for everything, Princess
Love forever, Davee.