"Come in, Miss Morrison."
I stepped into Mrs. Youngblood's office, surprised at the barrenness of the walls. As vice principal, I thought she would have a number of degrees and certificates hanging in her office.
"I called you in today for a couple of reasons," she explained, gesturing for me to sit in the chair across from her. "First, it seems you've been rather vocal against bullying."
I shifted in my chair. "That kind of stuff has been bothering me a lot more than it used to," I said. "I know I might have gone a little too far, but some of the things the students do to each other is really terrible."
Mrs. Youngblood nodded. "You're right. We have an unusually bad problem with students tormenting one another at this school. Your cause is a good one, but the appropriate action to take in these circumstances is to report the offenses to a teacher or administrator instead of trying to take action yourself."
"I understand," I replied, even though I was unsure if reporting those things to teachers would really make any difference.
"The other issue I need to discuss with you," Mrs. Youngblood continued, "is this incident you reported concerning Wyatt Brooks."
I swallowed hard. I had been feeling better about that situation, but the formality of discussing it with the vice principal made me a little insecure.
"I have the details that your mother shared with me, and I know this may be difficult for you, but can you tell me what happened that night?"
I took a deep breath and recounted most of my experience with Wyatt at the homecoming dance. I held on to the edge of the desk to keep my hands from shaking. When I finished, Mrs. Youngblood nodded and typed some notes on her computer.
"Were there any witnesses to this event?" She asked. "Was anyone with you?"
"Yes. Frog, er… Frederick Vonnegan came into the room. He was actually the one who got Wyatt off of me."
Mrs. Youngblood raised her eyebrows. "Have you been in contact with Mr. Vonnegan?"
I shrank a little in my chair. "No, I haven't."
Mrs. Youngblood didn't say anything, but her thoughts were evident in the expression on her face. The only person that had seen the assault had been gone for over a month, and even I could admit that the thought of Frog overpowering Wyatt seemed a little far fetched.
Mrs. Youngblood clicked through a few things on her computer. "Kayla, tell me about your father."
"He's dead," I said quickly. Mrs. Youngblood peered at me over the top of her computer. This was the lie I had been telling about my father ever since he went to prison. This is what all the students at the school believed, because that's what I had told them. If Mrs. Youngblood knew the truth, she didn't acknowledge it.
"Your family situation must have caused you considerable stress over the years," she commented. "I've noticed other students in similar circumstances have acted out as a plea for attention."
She gave me a meaningful look, and I immediately felt sick. Her indirect accusation stung me more than I could have imagined.
"We'll continue this investigation," Mrs. Youngblood said, standing, "but before we meet again, I would like you to do some soul searching."
I could only nod in reply. I stood and exited her office as quickly as I could. I tried to keep the tears from coming as I walked down the hall. She didn't believe me. Wyatt's words from the other night began to haunt me and I wondered if anyone would believe me. I felt the feelings of fear and insecurity seep back into my mind, and at that moment I desperately wished that Frog was still there.