She’s right; I know it. If I’m not careful, I could color my child’s future. I think of where I was in the years following Brian’s arrest. I was bitter and paranoid, allowing the past to define me. I was young, too. Nobody is their fully formed self in their teens and twenties, but I’d been burdened in carrying a heavier load than anyone should. I had to grow up, but I also had to let go. I had to envision the life I wanted for myself, aside from Brian and Mom and everyone else, and fight for it. It’s how I made it to where I am today, even if it feels like the façade is starting to slip.
“I’m still processing, of course. At least the pregnancy explains why I’ve been so out of sorts lately.”
“Out of sorts?”
I’m on a roll when it comes to saying what I’m thinking, a refreshing change from all the thoughts I’ve kept locked inside. “On my last visit, I told you about my student. The one who was assaulted after the school dance.”
“Yes, I remember,” she says, crossing her legs. “How is she doing?”
“Darcy still hasn’t opened up about what happened that night.” I look to my left, assessing the clock on the wall for how much time is left in the session. “I think I know who was responsible for the attack.”
“Tell me about this person. The one you think is responsible.”
“Well, she’s a new student at Victory Hills. I’ve had some tense encounters with her in the classroom, and I think she had reason to lash out against Darcy. Typical girl stuff.” I sound foolish saying the last part. Typical girl stuff sounds so used, and it usually doesn’t end with someone’s leg being slashed. I consider telling her my concerns that Zoey knows about Brian, but I decide against it. “This girl has a volatile home life, and now I have reason to think she might have harmed her own mother. Problem is, I can’t get anyone to believe me.”
Dr. Walters sinks into thinking position. She waits several seconds, filtering her thoughts. “You don’t have solid proof.”
“No. It’s more of a feeling. The way her behavior has changed ever since she’s moved here.” I can’t get into all the details; there isn’t enough time.
“You said you thought your pregnancy might explain your reaction to this situation.”
“Well, yeah. I thought maybe I was just being hormonal and emotional.” I want that to be the reason, but I don’t believe it is.
“It makes sense why you would be so bothered by Darcy’s attack. You don’t think you did enough last time, so you’re trying to right that wrong.”
I know I didn’t do enough. I’m well aware Darcy reminds me of someone else. “It’s not just that. I want the person who hurt Darcy to be punished.”
“Do you see any connections with the person who hurt Darcy?”
“Yes, totally. She reminds me of Brian in lots of ways.”
“Does she remind you of yourself?”
I lean back and squint. Zoey? Like me? “Not at all.”
“I’m only wondering why you’re focusing on this student. You’ve already acknowledged you don’t have proof she hurt anyone. Maybe there is something drawing you towards this girl, something besides what you label as her disturbing behavior.”
“I’m not following,” I say, leaning forward.
“Your pregnancy represents a new phase of your life. It’s natural for you to reconsider the other phases while you’re processing this one.”
“I only learned I was pregnant this weekend. I’ve had suspicions about this student for weeks.”
“Subconsciously, maybe you’ve known longer? You said yourself you thought the pregnancy might explain some of your paranoia.”
That’s because I’m desperate for something to explain these feelings, something other than I’m crazy or Zoey is a psychopath. “Her familiar behaviors frighten me because I know she’s a threat, not because I think I’m like her.”
“You say this student is new. She had some trouble in the beginning, but now she’s making friends. She’s got her whole life ahead of her. How does that relate to what you went through at her age?”
We both know the answer. I felt like I had no opportunities. Brian had taken them from me. Most teenagers spend those years chasing adventure, arms open, ready for mistakes and whatever else might come. I spent those years cradling my mother, trying to piece together the world Brian had wrecked. I couldn’t trust family, friends, myself. Zoey is nothing like that. She’s in control and she knows it.
Dr. Walters must know she struck a nerve. She’s frozen in the listening position, waiting for me to say something profound.
“I wouldn’t wish the heartache I went through after Brian on anyone,” I say. Even Zoey. “I think this girl is dangerous. My past doesn’t cloud my judgement.”
I need that to be true. We sit in silence, both unconvinced.
Twenty-Five
Now
By morning, I’ve come up with at least one plan of action, and thankfully it doesn’t involve reaching out to anyone at Victory Hills. I’m going to dig into Zoey’s past. Her mom insinuated she’s been in trouble before. If Zoey has had issues at other schools, I should be able to access her records by contacting old schools. I need to know my fears about Zoey aren’t being caused by hormones or guilt; I need validation.
On Wednesday, I take the students back to the computer lab, allowing them to revise their previous essays. Really, it’s an excuse for me to keep them busy while I do research of my own. Of course, this time I take frequent strolls around the classroom, bending down and looking at computer screens to make sure everyone is staying on task. I spend extra time looking over Zoey’s shoulder, making sure she’s not crafting confession letters. She senses I’m watching her more closely than the others, awkwardly tensing whenever I walk by. In fact, Zoey has given me nothing but hateful looks since she walked into the lab this morning. The issue of her mother
