MICHELLE
Erin throws her cellphone at me, a number already dialed is flashing onto the screen. “Talk to them, Michelle. You have to.”
My heart is physically aching from the weight of what just happened. I am paralysed in fear and anger at both sides of this. I whisper towards my roommate as I hold my hand over the speaker of the phone, “No Erin, I can’t. I can’t do this. I can’t. You don’t understand.”
The waiting music plays over our conversation, giving me an opportunity to back out of this. I look down at the phone at the red button. If I hang up, this could be the end of the question. If I stay on the line, I will doom not only Cal, but also Maddie, to a life of pain and suffering. Despite everything Erin and I both know to be true, I can’t make this decision now -- not after what just happened in the car with Cal saving my life or us embracing as lovers.
Still, Erin cannot quit. When she’s on a mission, she won’t just give in like a normal person would. She fights for what matters, even if it means steamrolling over everyone else. She hovers over me, a hand resting firmly on her hip, “What is there to understand, Michelle? He is an asshole who can’t be trusted around other human beings, let alone a preteen daughter. You’re her teacher who is supposed to watch out for danger like this. This is your job, and you have to do it.”
My mind races as I look for something to jump in on. I interject with, “But that’s the thing, Erin! He’s a great dad. He cares about her. He just doesn’t know how to show it like we do. He was raised like that.”
I am frantic as the on-hold music swells. Can I make her see what I am saying is true -- that everyone, including a man like Cal, cannot be held accountable for what he thinks to be normal? Can I convince myself that what Erin is saying is the necessary answer, even if it causes so much suffering along the way? I only have seconds to decide.
Erin tries a new tactic as she sees how conflicted I am. She sits down next to me and turns her body fully towards mine. She has morphed herself into a sitting Buddha, calm and collected as she takes my hands in hers. She pulls me closer as she says, “Do you see what he is doing to you, Michelle? You would never, ever excuse someone for the life this girl leads. You’re all messed up in this physical mess. You’re letting him get to your head because of the sex. But that isn’t fair to Maddie now, is it?”
“But --” I have no response other than ‘but’ and ‘however.’ There are no words to follow, no ways to defend his actions anymore than I already have. Our passionate sex shouldn’t be the reason why I don’t do my duty as Maddie’s teacher and report the things about her life I find concerning. After all, what could I expect from Cal -- certainly not a real romantic relationship with the things I wanted. There would be no hand-holding on vacation, Valentine’s Day cards, or engagement rings in our future. What we had was raw and in the moment, and I surely shouldn’t count on it being here tomorrow or the next day.
Erin sees the key in my reaction. She clears her throat and says, “Fine. Then answer me this: where is Maddie right now? Is she safe? Is she somewhere secure? Is her life not in danger anymore?”
She’s hit the nail on the head as I flash back to why I was so upset leaving Cal in the first place. He can’t promise me Maddie is safe. He can’t promise me I am safe. So why am I trying to explain away who he is. He’s the man who probably killed several people today in addition to the men he shot at during the battle back at the clubhouse. I needed to come to terms with this.
Erin stiffens as she lowers her voice to add the cherry on top: “Michelle, do the right thing. I know you can do this.” Erin hands me the phone as I hear the person on the other line finally answer. When I don’t immediately respond, the woman repeats “Hello? Hello?” to herself.
The moments between Cal and I -- being held in the car, lying naked on the floor of his bedroom, our fights in the kitchen -- all come flooding back to me as I make my final decision. I swallow hard. What I am about to do is not going to be easy or right for anyone. But it has to be done.
My voice shakes and quivers as I speak into the phone, “Hello. I am sorry to call so late, but my name is Michelle Springer, and I am a teacher over at Washington Elementary School. I need to report…”