No sexual involvement of a person under 18 years old is mentioned in the story.
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I grew up in a house where my father was the dominant figure. I can't say he was a bad person, but 99% of what happened in our house were his direct wishes or at least done with his approval. When I was in high school, I once asked my mother why she gave in to his demands all the time. She smiled at me and said, "Honey, you are young. When you get married, you'll learn to compromise. Otherwise, the relationship breaks down. Dad is an alfa male with dominant personality. He was the same when we started dating. I love him the way he is, and frankly, being somewhat submissive has its own rewards." I wasn't sure I understood her words, but I let it go.
At 17, I began going out with a charming 20 year old guy. He was a handsome, smiley guy, who sent me love poems, and swept me off my feet. I married him before turning 19. I soon realized he could not hold a job for more than 3 months. His charming personality did not help when his employers found out he was not dedicated to his job, found multiple excuses to skip work, and refused to help when it was needed.
His drinking was another issue. When I met him, I noticed he liked hard liquor, but I haven't seen him drinking too much or being drunk. Within months of our marriage, his drinking increased, and on occasion, he became verbally and twice also physically abusive.
In the years that followed, I got pregnant and had a baby boy. I finished college, got my English literature teaching certificate, and became a teacher in our high school system.
During these years, my husband kept deteriorating. His dedication to work and help at home declined significantly while his drinking habits took over his life. One time, Declan, my child, was only 3 years old, and he spilled milk on the floor. My husband became furious and hit him. It was the last straw. I divorced him 3 months later.
It wasn't easy, but despite being a single mother, I managed to keep my job and be there for Declan when he needed me. It may not have been perfect, but I tried hard. To my delight, I saw my son grow up and be a nice boy. He was a good, helpful, sensitive boy, and I loved him dearly.
...
After finishing elementary school, Declan moved to the same high school I was teaching. As expected, during English lessons, he was assigned to the other group, which was taught by my colleague and good friend Lisa. He was doing well in his studies and seemed to have many friends. Everything looked like smooth sailing.
One afternoon, after school, he came home upset. Without saying hello, he went to his room and slammed the door.
I knocked, "Honey, are you OK?"
"Leave me alone."
"Please, honey, if you have a problem, tell me about it. We promised not to hide anything from each other."
"... OK, come on in."
I sat on the bed by him and inquired what bothered him.
He hesitated before answering, "Today I brought my ball to school. During the break, my classmate, George, hit the ball too hard. It flew outside the court and hit Liam, a 19 years old 8th grader, who was chatting with a couple of guys near the olive tree. George went to get the ball back, but he must have alienated Liam, and he refused to return the ball. I went to him and said, "The ball is mine. I need it." He and his buddies laughed, and he blurted, "First, you guys have to play only ON the court, and second, when you screw up and hit somebody, you are expected to apologize and BEG for the ball NICELY. You boys have no manners, so I'll confiscate it. You either buy a new one or send your parent to to talk to me."
"Is the guy Liam Connery?"
"Yes."
"He is a senior in my class. I'll talk to him."
"Mom, he was laughing, but I think he might be a mean person."
"He is my student, and I am sure he'll listen to me. George and you must have offended him somehow and that was the reason he behaved like that."
"Whatever..."
Declan was still angry when I left his room.
...
I put on a summery blouse and a midi-style skirt and left the house.
While in my car, I realized I didn't know where Liam lived. I stopped by the school and retrieved his address. I was in a good mood - I was Liam's teacher, and while I hadn't spoken to him outside the classroom, he never caused any problems, and his scores on the exams were always between B and A.
Liam's house was the last one on his street. I looked at my watch. It was 5:30 pm. I hoped the family wasn't having dinner. I rang the bell and waited. Five minutes later, nobody answered. I rang again, this time longer.
A short time later, I heard somebody approaching. It was Liam. He was barefoot and wore shorts with a tee shirt. He saw me and looked surprised, "Hi teach. Did I screw up so badly in school, that you came all the way to talk to my parents?"
"No Liam, I am here to retrieve my son's ball."
"Is the student whose ball I took is your son?"
