“Do you want me to call her back? Is this something I need to handle?” her mother asked halfheartedly.
If only, Misty thought wearily. But she knew there would be no help from her mom. She couldn’t cope with this on top of everything else going on in her life.
“I’ll deal with it,” Misty told her as she put the sandwiches on the griddle.
She only wished she could figure out how.
Laura feared Misty would cut class again on Monday. Instead, she was there early and sitting in the front row. Laura nodded her approval, then went straight into the lesson. Class ended without incident, though Misty lingered until everyone else had gone.
“Thanks for coming over at the festival on Saturday,” Misty said quietly.
“Not a problem. I think I have some idea now about what’s been going on. Would you like me to deal with Annabelle?”
Misty shook her head at once. “It’ll only get worse if I make trouble for her.”
“You know that bullying is grounds for suspension,” Laura reminded her. “If Annabelle is guilty of that, she deserves to be punished.”
“It’s not worth it,” Misty insisted.
“If what I heard on Saturday is any indication, then it needs to stop,” Laura said just as determinedly.
“You just don’t get it. Annabelle’s mom will make what Annabelle’s doing seem like a picnic. She’ll mess up my life and yours before she’s through. She’s already called my mom to try to make out that what happened on Saturday was somehow my fault.”
Laura was shocked. “Do you want me to call your mother and fill her in on what really happened?”
Misty shook her head. “My mom never called her back. She’s got a lot of stuff going on. I swore to her it was no big deal.”
Laura frowned. It sounded as if Misty wasn’t likely to get the backup she needed at home. Thinking of how Vicki Kincaid had been there for her when her parents had been dazed and embarrassed by her teen pregnancy, she immediately asked, “What can I do?”
Misty shrugged. “Nothing, I guess. It helps just knowing you get it. So does Mrs. Martin. She overheard Annabelle last week.”
“I don’t like the idea of allowing this to continue,” Laura told her. “I really think we should report it.”
“Please, no,” Misty begged. “Once Mrs. Donovan gets involved, it’ll get really ugly.”
“But it’s already ugly, isn’t it?” Laura asked gently.
“Not like it could be,” Misty insisted. “I can deal with Annabelle.” She squared her shoulders, hoping that would give credence to her bravado.
“Not by skipping class,” Laura said firmly. “That’s no longer an option.”
Misty looked taken aback by her firm tone. “Even though you know what’s going on?”
“Because I know what’s going on,” Laura told her. “You’re not going to risk your future or your grades by skipping class and risking suspension when you’re the victim in this.”
“Are you sure I can’t just transfer back to a regular English class? Maybe Mr. Jamison would let me out of AP math, too. That would make things easier.”
“You’d give up everything you worked so hard to achieve and let Annabelle win?” Laura asked. “How would that be fair?”
“I don’t care about fair. I just want this over.”
“Misty, I might not know how this situation started or how bad it’s really gotten, but I do know this—Annabelle isn’t going to let it just fade away because you’re no longer in the same classes.”
Misty sighed heavily. “Probably not,” she admitted. “But at least she wouldn’t be in my face twice a day with her friends laughing at me, too.”
Reluctantly, Laura had to concede she was right. That didn’t mean, though, that she would allow a transfer.
“Let’s give this some more thought,” she said. “I’ll bet between us we can come up with a solution.”
Misty regarded her doubtfully, but she nodded. “Okay.”
“We’ll talk again tomorrow.”
“Sure,” Misty said. “I’d better run. I have Mr. Jamison next period. He’s pretty unobservant, but he does notice if people come in way after the bell.”
“Would you like a note?”
“Nah. I’m good at sneaking in under the radar.”
Or else, despite her very stern warning, Misty intended to spend the next period hiding out somewhere, Laura realized as Misty ran off. She sat back with a sigh, suddenly wishing she could call J.C. and ask if he thought she’d handled the situation as badly as it suddenly felt like she had.