I'm a Believer

two.

I was experiencing some pretty bad head aches. The reason why was simple: I had some swelling in my brain. The doc said he was going to try to do a surgery to release the swelling, and that surgery was today. I've never had a major surgery, or any surgery for that matter. As one could expect, I was terrified.

"Ok Add, you're gonna be okay. People have this kind of surgery all the time. And it's a better excuse for not talking to Mr. Roberts." It's funny, but bad. I'm thinking about him when I have bigger things to think about.

"What was that? Who's Mr. Roberts?" Of course. I think out loud too much. It's always been a problem of mine.

"Teacher," I responded nonchalantly. I tried to give as open of an answer as possible, leaving quite a bit to the imagination. That's what I always do, because I don't open up to people very fast.

"Yes, I figured...but why don't you wanna talk to him? Ya get a bad grade or something?"

"Oh uh, no. Look, I will gladly explain this later, but at the current moment, I'm about to undergo a major surgery and I'm a tad scared. Remind me when I wake up and I will spill the beans," I said.

"Okay, because getting to know someone means not too many secrets, and I want there to be as few as possible between us," said Marshall.

Can't Mr. Roberts be one of them?

––

I woke up a day or so later, and of course the first thing Marshall asked was, "Why is Mr. Roberts a secret?"

I forgot we were doing this. Regretfully, I told him about Mr. Roberts.

"Mr. Roberts raped me once, and from then on, it was just constant touching and feeling, which either way is inappropriate for a teacher to be doing. I never reported it, because he'd fail me..."

Marshall sat there with his eyes wide open and his mouth gaping.

"You need to report this! We need to get this guy fired!"

"No, trust me. I've got the situation handled. I come up with an excuse to avoid any 'after school meet ups' as he calls them. I need to pass his class. He does Music and Art class and I'm trying to become a singer."

"Addison, I have a studio at my house! I have a record label! I can easily sign you! I want you to avoid this guy!"

"Why does it matter that you have one at your house?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Well, I figured you would uh, move in with me. I have a better high school right by my house. Please just consider it. I know we barely know each other, but now that I know about that guy, I wouldn't feel right at all about just letting you back in there."

Without thinking, I said, "I'll move in."