“Zoey might have written the letter,” she begins. “But, honestly, I’m unconvinced she attacked Darcy. I don’t know enough about Zoey. Yet. I’d like to talk with her myself.”
Pam’s reaction wasn’t what I expected. She’s promising to look into the matter because she’s my friend and she’s good at her job, but I recognize her doubt. She doesn’t believe me.
Seventeen
Now
The week moves slowly. Usually the days fly this time of the semester, but Darcy’s attack has shaken the familiar routine. Now each day feels like a long act in a play. I can’t focus on summer and touring Europe with Danny. Not when I stare at Darcy Moore each morning.
I’ve mastered the art of observing student dynamics without being noticed. Darcy, for example, hasn’t even opened her book all week. She’s either fiddling with her phone or putting her head on the desk. Pam says this is normal, and I agree. I’ll have to address her lack of effort at some point, but it’s still too soon for her to be taking orders from anyone, even me.
Darcy’s disconnected from everything, including Adam. On Monday, he appeared concerned and attentive. On Tuesday, less so. He still stared at Darcy, even whispered to her at times, but he didn’t move his desk to be near her. By Wednesday morning, he looked depressed again. He didn’t acknowledge anyone, not even Darcy. I wonder what’s going on between them behind the scenes, in the other twenty-two hours and thirty minutes of their lives outside of my class.
Thursday is probably the first time this entire semester I haven’t seen Adam and Darcy interact. It’s like they are strangers sitting four feet apart. When students break into their learning groups, Adam approaches my desk.
“Mrs. Mayfair, can I join Melanie’s group today?” he asks. Typically, people only volunteer to work with Melanie because of their expectation she’ll do all the work. It’s sad, really. Today, I sense Adam simply wants to avoid Darcy. Or maybe it’s Zoey he wants to avoid.
“Sure,” I say, making my way to the back of the room to hand out papers.
As I walk along the rows of desks, I notice Darcy look in Adam’s direction for the first time. She rolls her eyes when she sees him take a seat next to Melanie.
“Everything good over here?” I ask.
“Fine,” Darcy says, reaching out her hand to grab the worksheet. I realize this is the first word I’ve heard her speak all week.
Zoey walks by me and takes the seat next to Darcy. This provokes a reaction from Adam. He doesn’t say anything, but he resembles the angry volcano I witnessed last week.
I sigh. Teenagers often carry their personal lives into the classroom; this isn’t the first time I’ve witnessed the aftermath of a bad breakup or a dirty rumor. But everything feels so much darker this time. Dangerous. You can’t send a student to the office for rolling their eyes. So I wait and monitor, hoping nothing escalates.
We make it until the last two minutes of class before there’s an eruption. As students are returning to their desks, Zoey brushes against Adam. Adam reacts by slamming a textbook on his desk.
“Adam!” I cry. The sound of the book thudding against the tabletop startles everyone in the room.
“She bumped into me on purpose!” Adam shouts, looking at me as a toddler would during a tantrum. Like I have all the answers, which I don’t.
“Are you always this angry around women?” Zoey asks. Her voice is calm, and she smirks like this is the funniest thing she’s seen all day. She’s both baiting him and perpetuating the theory he hurt Darcy. Thankfully, Adam doesn’t bite. He grabs his backpack and slings it over one shoulder. He walks toward the door.
“Adam, you can’t react like that.” I keep my voice low and my face neutral. I know the entire classroom is looking at me.
“She keeps trying to mess—”
I cut Adam off before he starts shouting again. “Go to second block. I’ll have to report this to Ms. Pam.” I can’t condone his yelling at another student in front of my entire class. Even if he’s yelling at Zoey.
Adam pushes open the door, which causes another loud slam as it hits the wall. Moments later, the bell rings and my other students make their exit. Most keep their eyes low while some, like Devon, chuckle. Darcy looks mortified, and I wonder what exactly is going on between these three students. Clearly something.
Zoey walks toward the door.
“Not so fast.” I block her from entering the hallway.
Darcy looks back before leaving, closing the door behind her. She mouths the words Thank you to Zoey, which feels like a punch to the gut.
“I’m in trouble, too?” Zoey asks once we’re alone, although she’s nowhere near as angry as Adam. She’s bored. “I told you I brushed against him by accident.”
I narrow my eyes and search her face. It’s not a small classroom. I find it hard to believe she accidently managed to bump against the one person she’d had words with just last week.
“What’s going on, Zoey?” I ask, folding my arms across my body. I’m uncomfortable talking with her, but I don’t want her to see.
“What do you think is going on, Mrs. Mayfair?” She copies my body language, crossing her arms but adding an extra layer of cool by leaning against the wall. “Why are you keeping me in here?”
I finally have Zoey alone. Now is the time to ask if she knows about Brian, but I’m afraid of her answer. She’s been testing me with her comments and the letter because she assumes I’m weak. If I ask her about Brian, she’ll know she’s winning. And if she doesn’t know about him, I’ll open a whole other can of problems.
“You’re provoking arguments with
