Rachel took a deep breath and opened the car door. She entered the sea of kids whispering and gossiping about the fight.
“I heard they were fighting over some sophomore girl.”
“I heard this guy was like super human, bodies flying everywhere.”
Rachel listened to the words that filled the air, and it made her want to run and hide.
As she walked through the doors of the school, she felt like everyone was staring at her. She saw a group of cheerleaders standing in the corner near the cafeteria, one pointed at her as she whispered something to the others. As she turned down the hallway towards her locker, she could hear the whispers getting louder and louder.
Rachel wanted to leave, but knew once she got into her homeroom, she could sink down at her desk and hopefully go unnoticed. She knew if she left school, it would make the situation much worse and she didn’t want to get suspended for cutting. She hated this guilty feeling that was filling her up inside.
She quickly walked to her locker and into her homeroom class, where Mr. Allen sat at his desk, looking at the kids quizzically. Rachel saw him staring at her and instantly realized that everyone, even the teachers knew.
“What happened to you last night?” Emily asked, quietly. “I heard about the fight but couldn’t find you anywhere. Are you ok?”
Rachel looked at her but didn’t know how to respond. She trusted Emily, but she knew she couldn’t tell her the whole truth.
“Yeah, I’m fine. It was a little scary, but here I am,” Rachel said with a smile pointing to herself in a joking manner.
“It’s not funny— you could have been killed. I heard this Benji guy is completely crazy,” Emily said in a serious voice.
“He’s not that bad,” Rachel answered quietly, as she looked around to make sure nobody was listening. “He’s a nice guy.”
“Um, he beat up Rob and four other players, Emily replied. “He doesn’t seem that nice.”
“Well, it wasn’t his fault, they came after him,” Rachel said, sticking up for Benji.
“Geez, calm down, why are you getting so defensive?” Emily snapped back.
Rachel stopped for a moment, and then realized what she was saying. She didn’t know why she was sticking up for him, after everything that happened between them.
“Listen, I don’t want to talk about this anymore, OK,” Rachel said as she opened her notebook.
“Well, everyone’s talking about it,” Emily said. “I just want to know who this guy is? I’ve never seen him around AHS.”
“He’s a senior. I don’t know why you haven’t seen him, he’s been around,” Rachel responded.
“Well, what’s going on between you two anyway? Do you like him?” Emily asked with a questioning smile.
“Um. He’s all right. I thought I did, but now I don’t. OK. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fine, I’ll let it go…for now. But I want to hear more about this when you’re ready to talk about it.”
Rachel hated this. She hated being interrogated by her friends and being the source of all the whispers in the school. She desperately wanted to disappear.
DING DING DING. The loud speaker began:
Good Morning AHS students, teachers and faculty. This is your principal, Dr. McNery speaking. Today is a hard day for us here at AHS, after the recent happenings of the Homecoming dance. We are still trying to get to the bottom of what exactly happened last night. Don’t feel alarmed, we have everything under control, and want each of you to know that we have arranged for a school psychologist to join us for the next few days. Her name is Dr. Joy and all students are welcome to see her at any point in the day. We know what happened can be alarming, scaring and upsetting, and we want you to know that we have someone for you to talk to if you need to.
We may be calling students out of their classes today for questioning by the police, but again, this is just standard procedure and do not be alarmed. Thank you and have a good day.
Rachel sunk down into her seat. She had never felt so mortified. She wanted to die. Her heart was thumping out of her chest as she sat there hoping that she wouldn’t be called out of class, especially for questioning by the police. Could this go on my permanent records? Rachel thought. Could this ruin my chances of getting into college? Her nerves were all over the place and she could not sit still. She was tapping her foot on the ground and moving her pencil up and down, in a rapid motion.
Rachel couldn’t believe her “almost” boyfriend could cause such a raucous that the principal needed to hire a school psychologist. And this whole fight started because of her, she thought. She couldn’t help but feel like she single-handedly traumatized the entire school body.
A moment later the principal’s secretary walked through the door and went over to Mr. Allen’s desk. She held a clipboard in front of him and pointed to a name. He read it silently, shaking his head. Mr. Allen looked up from the clipboard and directly at Rachel, motioning for her to come forward.
“They need you for questioning,” Mr. Allen whispered, pointing to the clipboard.
Rachel felt her face turn bright red with nervousness. She shook her head and looked at the principal’s secretary.
“Now?” Rachel whispered.
“Follow me,” she said in a stern voice.
Rachel was scared. She had never been this nervous or worried about anything in her entire life. She followed the secretary out of the classroom and down the empty hallways. The echo of their footsteps rang loudly in her ears as they walked towards the principal’s office. It felt like they were walking forever. Each step felt like an hour as the anticipation grew.
Rachel wondered what they were going to ask her. She wondered if it would be the same police from last night, or different policemen. As they neared the office, Rachel’s anxiety levels were through the roof. She felt her body shaking as she walked into the main office.
“Sit here,” the secretary said, pointing to an open chair just outside Dr. McNery’s office. The secretary peeked her head inside the principal’s office and said, “She’s here, whenever you’re ready.”
Rachel felt like she was on trial. She sat there waiting, tapping her foot and looking at her watch. The minutes moved slowly as she sat there and awaited her fate. She ran the fight over and over in her head trying to come up with a story that would be believable to the police.
After about fifteen minutes, the principal, Dr. McNery, came out of his office in his crisp navy blue suit with a blue and white striped tie and said in his deep authoritative voice, “Rachel Wood, we’re ready for you.”