Slate | ✓

EIGHTEEN | ATHENA

Getting to school is a blur. The whole bus ride is consumed by Charlie's words turning over and over in my head until they seem to mean both nothing and anything. Now that I'm away from the house, a resentment begins to unfurl in my chest as I think of him sitting across from me, like his very presence is offensive. I don't want to like Charlie; I want to understand him.

I think about what Darcy said about how cruel Charlie could be when he wanted. How am I any different? I don't need the crippling addiction to be an asshole to the people I care about. I just need some offhand comment or a side stare and suddenly I'm saying and doing things just to make others upset. I knew exactly what would make him feel like shit— the precise words and when and how to say them.

Do I think Charlie ever meant to hurt Will? No. If I did, I wouldn't even entertain the thought of a conversation with him. Did I want to hurt Charlie? Yeah, and it's not like he was doing or saying anything to make me feel that way. I just wanted to.

Lizzie said that Charlie is trying. I've grown up with a father who tries, and it's never been the same thing as being present, or actually doing any emotional work or explaining to your kids that it's not their fault when their Mom fucking leaves forever.

Charlie left the lingering image in my mind of Mom being, well, a mother. Somewhere out there, she's around. She's thinking and feeling, and maybe even remembering. She's more than just a void, and the concept of her isn't something I've let myself think about. Ever. We've gotten by without them. If they're gone, it's better that they stay gone. Right?

For so long, I thought I knew the answer. Now, a photograph and phone number burns a hole in my jacket pocket.

The world rushes back to me with horrible clarity in the form of black sharpie scrawled across the grey surface of my locker. ATHENA SLATE IS A SLUT is written in ornate block letters large enough to span the entire width of the door.

I stare and stare and stare. I barely notice the people beginning to pool around me. A girl offers to scratch it out, and I vaguely feel myself shake my head. Then, anger— iron hot and all-consuming— replaces the suspense. I can feel it in my stomach. It curls at the edge of my vision and lingers at the back of my throat.

This is when I see a familiar flash of red hair and overpriced lip gloss standing on the edges of the hallway. Even as I'm moving, I see Patti's smile drop as realization morphs her face into an ugly grimace. Too late.

By the time strong hands pull me off her and someone is shouting in my ear, I already have a clump of bloodied hair extensions curled in my grip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"As you know, Mr. Slate, our school has a zero tolerance policy towards bullying." Ms. Chun folds her hands neatly over a stack of papers on her desk. I can see my own face shining back at me from the computer screen behind her. "I recognize that the outburst was not unprovoked, and we absolutely intend to punish the student responsible for vandalizing your daughter's locker." She pauses as her eyes wander to me. "However, this is Athena's second infraction this week, and the violence cannot be ignored. She has consistently displayed a serious attitude problem. Unfortunately, the administration will be reviewing her records in consideration of potential expulsion."

"Expulsion?" I hear myself echo.

"There will be a three day suspension, during which Athena is expected to not be on school grounds," she continues, ignoring my interjection. "By the end of the three days, we will have an answer for you regarding Athena's future at this school."