"Mommy?" the nervous voice of Mary Grace Costello said into her cell phone as she looked at the woman who had brought her here after school, and while she was clearly fond of her gym teacher it was clear the instructor was not in a good mood. "Yeah, of course it's me. Um - I'm going to go to Linda's house after school. Kids are getting together for a little party."
"Yes, I know graduation is tomorrow," Mary Grace said after a moment. "No, no drinking. I swear. Not too late I promise, okay? Thanks. Love you Mommy."
"Mommy?" the gym teacher sneered. "Are you sure you're 18?"
"Yes. I dunno. Always called her that," Mary Grace replied sheepishly as she was led down an unfamiliar street. "Where are we going?"
"My apartment," Kyle Jensen replied as she pulled the student over to a multi family house in need of repair, and as the teacher led the way up the stairs she added, "I'm not sure if it qualifies as a party though."
With an energetic stride that belied her 48 years, the gym teacher strode up the stairs briskly, leaving the pudgy teen in her dust as she navigated the three flights and waited impatiently as Mary Grace plodded up far less athletically.
"Seeing what you look like climbing a few dozen stairs make me feel I should have failed you," her instructor hectored while running a hand through her short cropped hair. "Makes me a failure myself as well for not molding you into better shape."
"Not your fault," Mary Grace mumbled as she watched her teacher unlock the weathered door of the third floor apartment, adding apologetically, "Peanut butter cups."
"Yeah, they fly off the store shelf and then unwrap themselves and jump into your mouth," Kyle sneered. "Lack of willpower speaks poorly of a person. You must exhibit self-discipline to succeed in life. Go sit down on the couch."
Mary Grace walked over to the couch which was in the center of the small apartment, and while she was prepared to say "nice place you have here," she didn't because there was nothing very nice about it. The dingy walls were desperately in need of a paint job, the furnishings were spartan, the couch she sat in threadbare, and the only entertainment seeming to be a large screen TV in the corner.
There was an elaborate set of weights in another corner and some kind of fancy treadmill, but the only memorable feature of the place was the oppressive heat which made Mary Grace feel like she had just taken a peek at something cooking in the oven.
"No point in beating around the bush," Ms. Jensen said as she sat on the coffee table opposite her student. "There's a reason you're here. Funny that you spoke to "Mommy" about your graduation ceremony because some things have come to my attention that may put your participation in that ceremony in question."
"What?"
"I'd go so far as to say that you may not even graduate at all," her gym teacher said, her lantern jaw and short spiked haircut combined with her serious tone of voice making the girl nervous. "Unless you have a good explanation for your behavior."
"What? You mean laughing when Angela Morin got hit in the face with the dodge ball?" Mary Grace asked. "I mean, everybody laughed."
"Hardly. While I can't sanction girls making fun of a fellow student, if your idea of playing dodge ball is catching the ball in your mouth, you deserve to be mocked for your incompetence," Kyle Jensen said bluntly. "No, I'm talking about something else. Last year some girl put a note in my mailbox - that's the way cowards rat out people I believe - and this girl had a complaint about you."
"Me?"
"This young lady, who didn't put down her name, wrote something to the effect that she thought you were strange," Ms. Jensen said as she reached into the pocket of her dark blue skorts that covered her legs to the knee where the school color purple and gold socks took over. "She said something like I should stop you from looking at the other girls while they were changing their clothes."
"What? Ms. Jensen that's stupid, I never..." Mary Grace answered quickly but her gym teacher held her hand up to stop her.
"It was one isolated complaint, and done so anonymously, so I pretty much ignored it," Ms. Jensen explained. "Although I did observe you from a distance, but my investigation was inconclusive."
"This year however, I got not one complaint but FOUR!" she barked. "A couple of them were even signed by your accusers. Would you like me to share them with you?"
"They're lies."
"You don't even know what they are yet. Here's one of them," Ms. Jensen snapped. "Ms Jensen, you gotta do something about Mary Grace Costello. All the time in the locker room, she's pretending to be doing something but she's really watching when you strip down to put on your gym suit. I've caught her lots of times. Somebody's going to punch that lesbian in the mouth before too long."
"I - some of these - hey, I know I'm not popular with some of the cliques," Mary Grace sputtered. "Do you have anything to drink?"
"There's water in the refrigerator," Ms. Jensen said. "Help yourself. There's more here we need to cover."
The gym teacher's eyes followed the chubby student across the room, nothing that there was a streak of sweat on the spine of her blouse as well as dark rings in the arm holes of her baggy green short sleeved blouse. Mary Grace opened the ancient refrigerator and saw little else but bottles of water, so after grabbing one she opened it and drank half of it before returning to the sofa.
"Thank you."
"So this person is lying?" Mary Grace was asked, and when she looked over at the note her gym teacher was holding even though her thumb was hiding the name she still knew who wrote it.
"Darcy McClintock. I recognize the handwriting," Mary Grace claimed. "She hates my guts."
"Here's another one, also signed," Ms. Jensen continued. "I'm one of the girls who likes to take a shower after gym class because I have to go to work after school and I don't want to be funky. Anyway, is there any way you can keep Mary Grace Costello from checking us out when we get dressed? It's bad enough there's no privacy in the place, but having her watching us is creepy. If she wanted to know if I'm a natural blonde she should know by now."
"I know who that is. Joni. Same clique. They all hate me, me and everybody else that doesn't live up in the Heights."
"Here's one that's not signed. Says, "The next time I catch Costello walking past the shower room trying to watch me dry off I'm going to go grab her, rip her clothes off and throw her in the showers and that queer can look all she wants," Ms. Jensen read with a raised eyebrow before adding,"You know, I don't think anybody would have said a word if you just went into the shower room like many of the other girls. Showering is like a social club in there with everybody yakking, and you can't help but see."
"I'm too fat. They would laugh at me."
"Still, that might have helped you with your curiosity issues."
"Ms. Jensen..."
"All of these people are lying?" Kyle Jensen asked and continued without waiting for a response. "Frankly, I should have just gone to the administration with these allegations, but I've had you in my class for what? Two years?'
"Three."
