Tainted Love (Sweetest Taboo #2) (22 page)

The girls all fit the same profile: band members – girls he accessed through his zero period band class. Pretty girls, the reporter wrote, who were well developed and mature for their age. Girls who came from good homes, but were being led astray by an older and manipulative man who found it easier to pray on students than approach women his own age. The reporter fell short of stating specific and fact-checked evidence, but there was a wealth of allusions and innuendo in his article so that the reader would come to a single conclusion: guilty.

I gulped and looked at the date printed on the top left corner of the article. The piece had appeared in the local paper the week before, just in time for students and parents to read it during finals. Tom had still been in school, overseeing final exams, and must have run across the article. I wondered if he knew Mr. Peterson personally, if they were friends.

I wondered, too, if Tom had experienced any backlash from this story. After all, he’d been through the same thing when I was a student at the high school, and I doubted that his colleagues had forgotten about the incident. Just then I felt terrible for Tom, for the kind of anxieties and worries he must have experienced back when I was a student, and what he must be feeling now…the uncertainties, the concern for his colleague, but also for himself.

There were twelve different girls named in the paper – they’d all signed disclosures to allow the reporter’s use of their legal first names, evidently – and their parents had been interviewed and many were quoted in the article. Three of the girls had been pulled out of school and transferred to a nearby parochial school by their parents. The other girls were still attending classes at the high school, but were being observed closely by the school guidance counselor.

The reporter also asserted that Mr. Peterson wasn’t the only teacher under scrutiny at Royal Oaks High, and that community members interviewed had reported having heard that more than one teacher has overstepped the student/teacher ethical boundaries. The reported didn’t cite any names, but referenced another article he had written several days earlier. For some reason, Tony hadn’t been diligent – or hurtful – enough to attach that particular article to his email. A primal instinct, though, was telling me that the story was probably about Tom himself.

After I read the entire article, twice, I turned to Tony’s email. My heart, which was already breaking, began to race wildly when I scanned the first sentence.

Dear Izzy,

I want to say first and foremost that I love you, you’re the only sister I’ve got, and I would never do anything to hurt you. But I’m not going to stand by and watch while someone else hurts you, either. I’m not going to sit by silently while some guy uses you, lies to you, and ruins your life (if only he knew about Marcus, I thought to myself).

I know about Mr. Stevens, Izzy. I may as well tell you that I saw you with him that day in August. I was in town, trying to find an antique chest that Emily wanted for her birthday, and when I saw you…well, I just had to do some of my own research to find out what was really going on between the two of you. I found out that you guys were staying at a nearby bed and breakfast. I didn’t tell Mom and Dad, though I must admit, it was close call. In the end, I realized that you’re an adult, and old enough to make your own decisions. I might not always agree with them, but I do love you enough to let you do your own thing and live your life.

Now, though, with this story and the rumors going around…I can’t keep quiet anymore, Iz. Everyone in town is talking about Mr. Stevens and those three cheerleaders he’s messing around with. I’m not sure what he did to them, but they’re going to be testifying against him, for God’s sake. The police department is building its case. He’s going down this time, and I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do about it at this point.

I know that you were involved with him when you were in high school. I know you think you love him, Izzy. But would he be sleeping around – molesting other girls younger than you! – if he really loved you? Would he be doing any of this if he respected you, and sincerely wanted to be with you? You know the answer to that question. It’s plain to see, Izzy, just open your eyes.

As your older brother, how can I stand by and let this guy use you like this? But you know what’s worse? The worst part of it is that people are bringing up your name again. Talking about how he’s already done this before, and saying you should finally own up and turn him in for what he did to you in high school. If you come home this week, the police are going to come looking for you. They’ll question you again and this time they will ask you to testify in court.

It’s so embarrassing for our family, Izzy. Mom and Dad are hearing these things all over again, and I hear about it and field questions from my friends every day. I know you lied to everyone about it when you were in high school, you didn’t want to out Mr. Stevens. But now everyone knows everything! My friends are always asking me about my sister – the one who likes to do it with teachers. I’m always defending you, of course, but I’m getting tired of having to!

As far as I know, no one here is aware that you were seeing Mr. Stevens last summer when you came home. If you stay away from here, no one will have to find out. If you stay away, maybe this whole thing will die down and Mom, Dad, and I can go back to living a normal life. Maybe we can all forget about all of this. I won’t tell anyone about what I saw last summer because I don’t want to see you get dragged into another mess. But you can’t come home, Iz. If you do, the police will certainly want to involve you in their investigation, and I don’t want you or our family to go through that again. Once was more than enough!

I’m sorry, Izzy, I know you don’t want to hear any of this, but you really need to stay away from here, at least for a while. It’s better for everyone if you just don’t come home for Christmas this year. If you do, I won’t be able to keep protecting and safeguarding your reputation. The police are good at extracting information, especially face to face. They can detect insincerity and lies and if it comes down to that, I just won’t be able to protect you anymore. If you have to go in for questioning, you’re on your own.

I sat back, breathless and teary eyed. The thoughts were racing through my mind, but none of them settled long enough to make an impression. Were these accusations true? Had Tom actually been sleeping with those cheerleaders that Vicky had been telling me about, or was this one of those episodes where one girl made an allegation and then they all jumped on the bandwagon? I knew enough about high school girls to know that they would all rush to a specific cause if they thought it was the cool thing to do. And these were cheerleaders, after all. They always stuck together, and in my experience many of them were highly sensitive to anyone looking at them the wrong way. Maybe Tom had just got caught up in a bad situation. Maybe one of the girls had a crush on him and had revealed it to him, only to have him turn her down? Maybe this whole thing was the result of some sort of sick and twisted revenge of a girl scorned?

Although Tony’s disturbing email did not provide any names, the word ‘cheerleaders’ which was scattered all over his email made me think of Christine and that sly smile she’d shot me that first day, when I met Tom again in the parking lot. Maybe Christine was one of the cheerleaders making allegations against Tom? But even if she wasn’t cited, it didn’t absolve her of being involved with Tom. After all, I had been sleeping with him, and I’d never said a word to the authorities or school administrators. Maybe she was like I had been back then and keeping quiet to protect him from any harm. From what Vicky had written in her tabloid-style emails to me, she still saw Tom and Christine spending time together on campus and after cheer practice.

If Tom and that petite blonde cheerleader were connected in any way, wouldn’t Tony have mentioned it in his email? If there were allegations concerning Tom, why hadn’t Tony included that article? Maybe he was trying to protect me from its contents? If I knew Tony, though, he wasn’t protecting me at all; he was playing games with my mind. He probably intended to sound brotherly and concerned, but in fact the email came off as selfish and self-interested more than anything else. Tony’s email communicated one thing: disappear, little sister. I began to question Tony’s motives for sending the article and the
stay away
email, and wondered whether Tony was exaggerating and blowing things out of proportion.

After all, the article he attached was an opinion piece. It wasn’t factual reporting. It was written to sell papers and curry rumor, not educate the public on current events.

In the end, after hours of conducting an internal debate with myself, I decided to call Vicky. If anyone would know what was really happening and if it was safe for me to come home for Christmas, it was Vicky.

“Oh it’s a complete hack piece,” she huffed when I got her on the line. “Everyone knows that reporter was just digging up whatever he could find. I don’t know if he even talked to all of those people he cited in the article, though I suppose he must have if the editor let the article go to print. After all, if he goes around naming girls that don’t want to be named, he’ll get slapped with some sort of law suit, right?”

“Probably,” I responded, glad to hear Vicky’s affirmation of the conclusion I had reached about the article. “But what’s Mr. Peterson doing about it? Are any of the other teachers…involved? He should sue the reporter or the newspaper for defamation or something?”

There was a long pause on the other end and I began to feel nauseous again. “Weeeeeeell…” Vicky said, drawing the word out in hesitation, “that’s the thing, isn’t it? He can’t really sue for libel or slander or whatever it is, because there’s a chance that all of this is true. Right now it’s all just circulating on campus and in town, but I don’t know what will happen next. For instance, one of the girls who says Mr. Peterson conducted himself inappropriately with her is on the swim team, and came to me to ask me what she should do. I didn’t respond in a direct manner, of course, because I really don’t want to be involved. I told her to go home and discuss these things with her mom and that her mom should decide what to do.” 

Vicky continued excitedly, “You know, Mr. Peterson is friends with your Mr. Stevens, so everyone’s talking about that connection. Probably the last thing you want to hear, but unfortunately people have started to talk about you again too.  When I hear anything about Mr. Peterson and those band students, I hear comments about Mr. Stevens and the cheerleaders, and then of course, people go back a few years and say they remember when Mr. Stevens did the same thing with you. I don’t say a word, of course, I stay completely out of it. I’m just the eyes and ears, but I don’t contribute any thoughts or opinions on the matter.”

It was hard for me to sit there and listen to Vicky gab on and on about this stuff. It was like she was still in high school and she hadn’t matured at all. She did coach the swim team now, but she was no longer in high school and I expected her to behave and communicate like an adult and not a jabbering high school student. I couldn’t stand it anymore and cut her off as she continued to complain about the way teachers were looking at her now just because she was also friends with Mr. Peterson. Drone, drone, drone. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, Vicky, but I’ve got a call on the other line from my dad so I’ve got to go. I’ll give you a ring back later,” I said curtly, trying to put an end to the one-way conversation.

“Oh, okay. Well I’ll just send you an email later to keep you updated, Izzy,” Vicky said cheerfully, as if the subject matter she was referring to was as flippant as going out for an ice cream cone.

I didn’t believe any of what Vicky had said to me, I realized. My love was stronger now than it ever had been, I’d just been tucking it away. Now that things had gone so badly with Marcus, I could see quite clearly that Tom had always been the only one for me. What made my love for Tom more compelling was that now it was in danger. My Tom was in danger. Why hadn’t he called to tell me any of this? But then maybe he had, and those were the calls I refused to take, ignoring him when he needed me the most. The district, and even the police, was probably already digging through his personnel files, into the reports from years ago that implicated him in an alleged inappropriate relationship with me…

I was certain that if Tom were being investigated about the accusations made by the group of cheerleaders, my name would resurface at some point. Officer Gray, years ago, had described me as an
unwilling witness
after questioning me over the phone. The police department dropped the case against Tom because I never owned up to anything that Tom had done
to
me, or that I had done
to
him, though I didn’t think his reputation had ever recovered.

Tony was right. Going home for the holidays would just render me readily available to the police again, but this time for face-to-face questioning. It’s one thing to lie over the phone when you know you’re ten thousand miles away from the police officer you’re lying to, but it’s a whole different story to lie to an officer’s face.

But if I could just muster some faith in myself, in my ability to be stoic and wear a poker face, I could go to the police department and offer a written statement about the fact that nothing had ever happened between us while I was in high school…if I, of all people, was there to defend Tom…it might just be enough to put an end to whatever investigation is being conducted.