There's a Place For Us (Complete)

Part 15

I. An Exquisitely Tragic Love Affair

(Part 15)

Back at school, Isabella tried to forget the night she had had grieving. She went to her locker in the morning as usual. She waited there, waiting for Adam's usual arrival.

Should he go? She had rejected him. Was it awkward to go to her locker just as he did everyday and act like nothing had happened? He grappled with the idea. After walking in the opposite direction a few times, he finally decided to go.

"Hi," she said, just as she said every time. He smiled uncertainly. As he walked her to her class, she noticed how he didn't slip his hand into hers. She missed his touch and the security he granted her with.

The next day, and the same events occurred. While walking to her class in silence, Isabella looked up at Adam's face. It was serious and had a depression in it. She looked away. She didn't want this.

Finally, about three quarters of the way to her class, she shocked even herself. She put her hand in his. Adam looked down at her, startled. "Adam," she started, "you're my friend. My only friend..." He nodded his head, understanding. He was her friend and that was that. He was nothing more, but he was nothing less.

In class, Isabella listened to her teacher's rambling of the American times. "Surprisingly enough, and ladies... like I always say, don't shoot the messenger, but domestic abuse was common in households. Almost expected..."

Isabella felt her throat close up and her muscles tense up. She remembered her aunt walking into the room.

"You disgust me," she'd say nastily, while puffing smoke from her cigaret. Isabella remembered her sharp fingernails, never clipped, piercing the skin on her arm. She remembered the scorch on her skin and the smell that lasted for days. She remembered the anguish. The laughter of joy. The fear.... Isabella had been ten years old. And that hadn't been the end.

"Isabella..." the teacher loomed over her. Isabella continued to moan unpleasantly, not even realizing. When she came back to the present, she saw not one person concerned. Every single kid in the class was laughing. Tears filled her eyes. It wasn't her fault!! She had no control!!

Her teacher grabbed her arm gently, but thoroughly. Out in the hallway, Ms. Elliott spoke. "You need to go to school counseling."

No concern, just authority. Isabella nodded her head, not being able to object. When she got to counseling, something happened. Something that made her understand and see herself differently.

Isabella was placed, or hidden in her opinion, behind a curtain by the counselors and her teacher. Apparently, they didn't realize it was only a curtain.

Ms. Elliott spoke in a hushed whisper. "She is crazy! She upsets the children by these random outbursts! You seriously should consider putting her in a mental institution!" Isabella stood rigid behind the curtain as her heart quickly increased its beat.

The counselor walked in a little while later, showing as much concern as her teacher. "Sit down," he said politely, pointing to a chair. She hesitantly sat, keeping as much distance between them as possible. "Talk to me..." he said soothingly. Isabella stayed silent. Here was a man she had never met before and he was telling her to talk to him. Not even talk about the weather or something stupid like that; talk about her past.

"Isabella," he pressed quietly, placing a hand on her knee. She jerked at his touch and quickly stood from the chair and placed herself behind it, creating a barrier. "You need to talk about your experiences..."

"No I don't," she told him sternly. The counselor sighed, knowing a lost cause when he saw one. "Is there anyone I can call for you? I don't want you to finish the day out here." Isabella took a deep, shaky breath. "Why?! Because I'll upset the children?" she asked fiercely, countering his comment. The man averted his eyes, repeating the question. "Do you want me to call anyone?" Isabella closed her eyes. She had no one. She started to shake her head, but then took it back. "Adam Green," she replied. "Mr. Green...," he asked. "He's known around here. Mostly as the rebellious type. I don't think you want me to call him..."

Isabella stood her ground and stared into the man's eyes.

"I said Adam Green."

Adam arrived fifteen minutes later. "I got here as soon as possible, sorry, my teacher wouldn't let me go right away!" Isabella shrugged her shoulders. "Why are you here?" he asked quietly. "You need to escort Ms. Isabella home," the counselor said, answering a question not meant for him.

Isabella started walking out, without another word from anyone. Adam followed her, confused. She walked to his car silently.

Once in the car, Adam turned to her. "Why were you there?" He seemed appalled and confused, but concern masked all of the other emotions he had. Tears filled her eyes. "I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh, everyday of my life. They just don't know..." she trailed off. Isabella held back a sob.

Finally, she continued, "they want to put me in a mental institution..." She looked up at him with big eyes.

"I won't let that happen," he said kindly, and he reached over and rubbed her back. It was the kindest gesture she had received in quite some time.