Will puts her mug down. She has a mischievous sparkle in her eye that would be very appealing if I didn’t know better than to trust it. ‘These charity cupcake stalls you run from time to time. Who are you raising money for?’ she asks.
‘Lots of different charities. This year we’ve donated to cancer research, Amnesty International and St Vincent de Paul.’
‘And how much money goes into organising a cupcake stall?’
‘Each student who volunteers buys her own ingredients and bakes her own cupcakes. That’s basically it.’
‘The school never puts in anything?’
‘No.’
‘And how much money do you usually raise?’
‘On a good day? About three hundred dollars.’ I frown. ‘Where are you going with all this?’
‘Oh, I was just thinking,’ Will says casually. ‘Wouldn’t it be great if the school put as much time and energy into raising money for charity as it does into building a second swimming pool for itself?’
I pause. ‘I’ve never thought about it like that before.’
‘You’ve never thought about the fact that if Rosemead made the same kind of commitment to charity events as it did to fundraising for its own coffers, you’d be handing over five-thousand-dollar cheques to Amnesty instead of three-hundred-dollar ones?’ Will gives me the look of hers that I am getting to know well – the one that implies I am more or less an idiot.
I swallow. ‘When you put it like that, it’s quite a disparity, isn’t it?’
‘I’ll say it is. And I reckon there’s a way to make that point and at the same time, hit Hadley where it hurts.’
‘Really?’ I feel suddenly nervous.
‘There’s an easier way to get to Hadley, of course,’ Will says after a moment. ‘Have you thought any more about telling the school what he said to you?’
‘No,’ I say quickly.
She reaches into her pocket for her phone. ‘Then I take it you haven’t seen the message Amelia Westlake received via Instagram last night?’ Will taps her screen a few times and hands me her phone.
Someone from an account named @RosemeadStudent has tagged Amelia Westlake in a stock photo of a swimming pool. I read the words beneath the photo.
Just wanted to say thank you @amelia.westlake for the cartoon about Coach Hadley. People need to know what he’s really like. I’ve known for about a year now and wish I didn’t. I really wish I could stop thinking about it. Maybe you know how that feels. Anyway, thanks.
I feel a lump in my throat. ‘Who wrote this?’
‘A Rosemead student,’ Will says. ‘That’s all it says on their account. There’s no other information. Not even a photo. The profile was probably set up just to write the note.’
I take a deep breath. ‘For someone to have written this, it makes me think Coach Hadley has really …’
We look at each other, neither of us willing to form the words. Will nods.
‘What should we do?’
Will takes another sip of coffee. ‘We write back to her. Perhaps we can encourage her to make an official complaint. If Coach Hadley’s …’
I rest my forehead on my palms. ‘I don’t even want to think about it.’
‘I know.’ Will leans forward. She sighs, and her coffee-scented breath warms my neck. ‘I know it’s a confronting thing to consider, but if you were to make your own official complaint to the school about what he said to you …’
I shake my head. ‘It is not worth reporting. Anyway, I already told you I don’t want to.’
‘But Harriet, don’t you see?’ She puts a hand on my arm. ‘If you did, it might convince other people he’s harassed or … who knows what … to come forward.’
‘If only we knew who wrote this …’
‘But we don’t. We may never know.’
I try to assess the logical options but for some reason Will’s hand on my arm is making it difficult to think logically. I wait until she takes it away. ‘Let’s write back, then,’ I say. ‘We’ll suggest to her that she make a complaint, and see how she responds.’
It’s as if Will is about to say something else, but changes her mind. She nods.
I add a comment beneath the swimming pool picture.
@RosemeadStudent I’m really glad you wrote to me. I am very sorry to hear you are having a bad time. The best thing you can do is make a formal complaint to the school. In fact, I urge you to do so. The school will be able to help you and maybe others as well. Any time you want to chat, you can reach me at this address.
I add the email address I set up for Amelia Westlake when I created her Instagram account. I show my comment to Will.
She looks me straight in the eye. ‘It’s good advice, you know. To make a complaint.’
I focus on the screen. My finger hovers over it, presses down. ‘It’s done,’ I say, not looking up.
We say nothing for a moment.
‘Maybe she’ll email,’ I say. ‘Maybe if we start a correspondence …’ My words drift into the air.
Will clears her throat. ‘So. This fundraising business,’ she says. ‘Do you want to help Rosemead raise some serious money for charity?’ She stands up and tacks the fundraiser flyer next to the cartoons on the wall.
Chapter 17
WILL
It’s simple. All we need to do is hijack the fundraising envelopes for the Buy A Tile project that go out with the monthly school newsletter. According to Harriet, the school outsources the printing and distribution of both the newsletter and the envelopes.
‘First we find out which printing company the job has been outsourced to. Then we arrange for the company to change the
