The R Word (On Hold)

Chapter 25 - Living a Lie (Debbie's POV)

With a smile that came too easily, Debbie dismissed her second year class. The morning bell for break sounded a few seconds later and everyone piled out, laughing and smiling. She gave out a sigh of relief. As long as her students left her class happy with what they'd learned, she was reassured that she was doing a good job.

She sighed with a slight shake of the head. She'd long convinced herself that she wouldn't be good at anything. Her father told her that everyday through high school, even college. He was convinced she'd end up working in a fast food restaurant. As if she would allow herself to fall that far in society. Debbie brushed the memory away and started packing away her things.

"That's me done for another week," she murmured with another smile. Just then, there was a knock on the door. She looked up, thinking it would be Lily. That girl always forgets something. Debbie was more than surprised, however, to see Jane poke her head round; looking rather sheepish.

"Jane. What are you doing here?" she asked. She realised quickly that that sounded rude. "I mean, its Friday, you don't have lessons do you?"

Jane smiled, slipping in and closing the door behind her. "No, no. I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

"No, of course not. Lesson just finished."

"That's good then," she said, sounding relieved. "Because I wanted... I mean I need...I would like to talk to you about something."

Debbie paused, leaning back against her table; her arms crossed over her chest. "Jane, you can tell me anything, as long as its nothing illegal," she chuckled; heat rushing into her cheeks.

Jane laughed, stepping closer and perching herself on the table opposite her. Debbie studied her intently, noticing how she avoided her gaze and how her hands tensed around the table edge.

"Jane, what has you so anxious?" she asked, bluntly. There was no point beating about the bush. If you want something sorted, get straight to the point!

Jane clapped her hands together, picking at her nails. "What you told me the other day...about your dad."

Debbie sucked in a breath. "I shouldn't have told you about that. It's not customary for teachers to talk about their personal lives."

"I won't tell anyone, I promise," she smiled. "Well, I was wondering... what happened after you protected your mother and knocked him out?"

"My mother and I packed our things and left," she revealed. "The first week or so, we stayed with my aunt in the country. We both worked so to build up enough money to get a small flat. We got by just fine. My dad didn't even try to get us back."

"By the sounds if it, he was too set in his ways to change," said Jane. Debbie smiled, impressed by her enlightened response. It was no mystery as to why she chose English. She was good with words, once she got going.

"Yes well, you know how the older generation are," she joked. Jane laughed, once more picking at her nails. "But that's not all you wanted to talk about it, was it?"

Debbie watched her draw in a breath, preparing herself. She wondered what could be so important, and so burdensome, that she couldn't just let it out? Jane remained silently, struggling alone. Her mouth opened and closed, indecisively, and sweat started to emerge on her brow.

Debbie reached out, placing her hand over hers. Jane stilled, slowly meeting her gaze. She smiled. "Jane, it's okay," she assured. "You can trust me."

For a brief moment, watching Jane's eyes clear up and her head tilt up, Debbie believed that she was going to open up. In a strange and unprofessional way, Debbie hoped she did. Yes, they had only just met but as her tutor, she had a responsibility to help her students, no matter the case. Furthermore, she saw herself more in Jane than any other student she taught. She was actually the same at that age; scared and insecure of herself. She'd often felt she had no one to talk to, no one who understood her.

If she could spare another from the same miserable existence. then she had to try and help, in whatever way she could.

But the moment quickly passed. Jane pulled away, her unease gone. "I was just wondering if we had any homework."

Debbie pulled back, startled. She hadn't been expecting that, and that's not all that unnerved her. In her expression, Jane seemed to mock her. She smirked and laughed off her sincere gesture.

She pursed her lips and moved round her desk, looking for the activity sheet. "I told the class to read the first hundred pages of Speak and then to feedback to the class on Monday. I also asked for them to write a short poem from Melinda's point of view. And you would now that if you were in class yesterday."

Debbie didn't want to sound bitter, considering Jane was going through some personal trouble, but that's how she came across.

Jane's cheeks glowed in red and she took the sheet. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I wasn't feeling too good."

"Yes well, you only have one chance at college. I would hate for you to fail, especially when you have so much potential Jane."

"You really think so?"

Debbie noted the surprise on her tone and couldn't help but smile at her. "Of course you do. As I tell all my students, you can do anything if you put your mind to it. And that goes for whatever secret you have hidden inside you."

"Secret? I don't have any secrets," she stammered, fear bleaching her face white.

"Jane. Whatever it is you're hiding, I'm sure it's for a good reason. You think you're protecting everyone you care about by keeping it from them. But all its gonna do is eat and eat away at you until you are so far under that you just...go on living the lie. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Jane nodded in silence, looking at her hands. Debbie sighed. She couldn't deal with her silence anymore, it was getting tiresome. The bell rang then and they both jumped.

"Well I better go then," said Jane, looking and sounding guilty.

"I haven't got a class, but yes," replied Debbie, bringing a smile to her face. "You have a bit to do over the weekend."

Jane smiled, walking away towards the door.

"Oh Jane, do you have a copy of the novel?" she called. She turned round and shook her head. Debbie quickly searched in her pile of books for a copy, sure she still had one spare. She exclaimed, pleased she was right. She skipped to the door and handed it out to Jane. She noted how she looked at, almost afraid of taking it. Debbie eased it gently into her grasp and reached round her to open the door.

"I would say happy reading, but it's not that kind of novel," she remarked, remembering her own experience with Speak.

"Thanks," she said softly, stepping out. "I'll see you Monday."

"I hope so," replied Debbie. Lingering in the doorway, she watched Jane go down the corridor, the book close to her chest. Her curiosity about the girl was growing by the second. What was it she wanted to speak out about? It couldn't be about her attack. Almost everyone knew about that. It made the news for weeks.

She frowned, her lips pursed.

Unless...there is more to it, she thought; retreating back into her classroom to get her bags and books.

"Don't get involved," she urged. "Don't get involved!"