Chapter 5 - What Was Written on That Paper
I didn't sleep that night either.
The note sat on the counter inside a zip-lock bag. That had been Ethan's idea, not mine, and it told me he'd been thinking about this longer than I'd understood.
I called Bellmont High before eight the next morning. The vice principal's name was Mr. Delgado. I'd spoken to him once before, briefly, in the middle of freshman year, when I called to say I was worried. He'd told me, kindly but firmly, that ninth grade is a rough social stretch for a lot of boys, and that Ethan hadn't reported anything to the office himself.
I'd accepted that. I never should have.
"Mr. Delgado," I said, "I need to come in today. I have written documentation of targeted harassment against my son from last school year. I should have brought it in months ago. I'm bringing it now."
A pause. "Ms. —"
"Today," I said. "Please."
He saw me at ten-thirty. I set the bag on his desk. He read the note without touching it, leaning over it with his palms flat on the blotter.
When he looked up, his whole face had changed.
"Where did Ethan find this?" he asked.
"In his locker. Last March."
"He kept it."
"He kept it," I said.
Mr. Delgado sat back. He went quiet in the way people do when they're recalculating something.
"Do you know who wrote it?"
"Ethan believes it was Brandon Keller," I said. "He has reasons for that. I'd like the school to investigate and reach its own conclusion."
"Of course." He nodded slowly. "I need you to understand, Ms. —, that if this is confirmed, it falls squarely under the district's written harassment policy. This is not a gray area."
"I know," I said. "I read the policy last night. That's why I'm sitting here with a piece of paper in a bag instead of just making another phone call."
He looked at me steadily. "You've done your homework."
"My son spent a year being hunted through the halls of your school," I said. "I've got a lot of catching up to do."
Mr. Delgado called Brandon's parents that afternoon. I know because Ethan texted me from third period. Brandon just got called to the office.
Then, twenty minutes later: He came back looking like he'd seen a ghost.
I was still sitting in the school parking lot. I hadn't been able to make myself drive away.
My phone rang. A number I didn't know.
"Is this Ethan's mother?" A woman's voice. Tight. Very controlled.
"Yes."
"This is Renee Keller. Brandon's mother." A beat. "I think we need to talk. Before this goes any further."
I looked out the windshield at the front doors of the school.
"I agree," I said. "But I want you to understand something first."
"What's that?"
May you like
"It's already gone further," I said. "The only question now is how much further it needs to go."
The silence on the other end stretched out a long time.
