Rumor Has It

Red fingernails hit the laminated surface of the desktop over and over again, the clack of each hit driving Clara closer to the brink. This was bad enough without the annoying reminder that her principle was sitting three feet from her, waiting patiently for Clara’s parents to arrive. Perhaps Clara might not have minded so much had Ms. Evans not been the sort of woman who took pleasure in other people’s discomfort.

And Clara Harris knew that things were about to get as uncomfortable as they could ever get. There was nothing more awkward then being called down the principal’s office only to be informed by the secretary that your parents are the on their way to come discus ‘you know what’.

She slunk lower in her chair as the telltale snap of her mother’s heels could be heard on the other side of Ms. Evans’s door. Low voices paused to discuss something just outside the door. Then, as Clara resisted the urge to cover her face with her hands in a childish attempt to hide from what was going to come next, there was a polite tap-tap at the door.

“Come in.” A slow, easy smile had worked its way onto Ms. Evans’s face.

The door was a well oiled; there was no noise to indicate its opening besides the quite click of a door handle being turned. A small gust of air followed the abrupt closing of the door.

“Clara,” her mother was already speaking before the door was entirely closed behind her, “why didn’t you tell us?”

This was going to be even worse than Clara had spent the last ten minutes imagining it would be. She raked a hand through her thick, dark hair and took a breath to steel herself.

“Tell you what?” She hedged, “I don’t really even know why I’m here.”

It was a true enough statement. No one had really told Clara what exactly she was doing in Ms. Evans office. They’d all just assumed she knew. Which was a perfectly good system of reasoning, since there was only one thing really going on in Clara’s life that was worthy of a visit to the principal’s office – the rumor.

Fine, so it was a little more than a rumour but no one needed to know just how true the things Effie was spreading around where. And technically Clara was a lesbian not…that other word.

“Clara Frances Harris,” Abigail Harris’s voice had taken on an odd hysterical edge that could only mean bad things, ‘don’t you dare lie to me.”

Oops, too late.

“I’m not lying.” She was stalling and everyone in the room knew it.

Ms. Evans, being the evil witch (with a ‘B’) she was, chose this moment to intervene. “Abigail, Marcus, please sit down. I chose not to tell your daughter exactly why she was here so that she did not feel pressured to explain before you arrived”

God, how Clara hated that such a devious woman could sound so darn innocent. Why was it always the bad ones that where good at lying?

“We are here, Clara, to talk about the rumors going around right now,” Ms. Evans continued like she wasn’t about to force Clara to admit to being homosexual right in front of her parents, “the ones that mention you being a lesbian”

If the woman was going to get the story right she might as well use the proper language.

“Its dyke, ma’am,” Clara tried not to spit the hateful word; it felt dirty coming from her mouth. “People are calling me a dyke, not a lesbian.”

She wouldn’t mind nearly as much if they were calling her a lesbian, that wasn’t an insult. What they were calling her was.

“Clara!” That was mother again – surprise, surprise. “Do not use that language so freely”

For the first time since her parents had entered the room Clara glanced towards them. Her mother sat up straight in her chair, the picture of confidence and airbrushed perfection that she always was. Her silvery-blue eyes, so much like Clara’s, where trained on Ms. Evans. Marcus Harris, however, looked painfully out of place in the polished office that Ms. Evans had cultivated for herself. Clara’s father had always worn his dark hair in a long, perfect braid straight down his back therefore she’d never really stopped to wonder at how inapt it made the man look in any setting other than their woodsy home on the local Native Reserve.

Clara looked away before either parent could catch her looking, the last thing she needed was eye contact. That would make her compulsively good side force her to blurt the truth. And Clara would rather the back story to the rumours was kept as far from her parents ears as possible. No parent needed to know that their daughter had been caught by another student making out with another girl in the change rooms. It was the kind of shameful behavior that was better off not mentioned aloud.

“We need to stay on task, Clara,” Ms. Evans said, her airy tone never changing, “I need to know who started these awful rumours about you and why”

Goddamn, the woman had to be a mind reader. How else could she bring up the exact thing Clara was hoping to avoid? Impulse took over and Clara was on the defense faster than you could blink.

“Who says there rumours?”

They say there is always quiet before the storm. Clara spent the following minutes of silence wondering why your basic survival instincts always fail you when you really need them.

“What exactly to you mean, by that Clara?” Ms. Evans spoke slowly, as if to someone without the level of comprehension it required to understand her words.

Clara lifted a hand to her face, rubbing her eyes as she tried to think. This was getting worse and worse by the second. How could have one innocent kiss between Gabriella and her gone so sour? Sure, having a secret girlfriend was bound to have come back to bite her in the ass eventually. But Clara had never expected that sneaking around with Gabby would end quite this badly.

Maybe it was about time she took Gabby’s advice after all. The older girl had already told her parents about her sexual status years ago. It’s one of those things that are better done quickly, she’d told Clara, like ripping off a Band-Aid.

“Mom, dad,” She paused to make a face, “Ms. Evans, the truth is,” One more pause to gather her nerves.

“I’m a lesbian”