We arrived at my son’s new school nervous but hopeful, only to hear his instructor say, “Jacob had some challenges.” However, my son’s mournful quiet suggested a deeper issue I couldn’t see behind the school’s closed doors.
I was chilled despite the sun. My hands shook as I exited the car onto the school sidewalk.
My thoughts were heavy despite the fresh-cut grass and new beginnings.
Jacob stood with his teacher near the school’s front doors, shoulders bent, rucksack drooping low.
Possibly in her early 30s, Ms. Emily wore a pristine blue shirt and a clipboard under one arm.
Teachers sometimes grin tightly, neatly, and politely.
Jacob saw me and walked slowly, eyes locked on the ground.
I waved and lifted my hand to cheer him up. Neither waved back.
He seemed little against the school behind him. As he reached the car, Ms. Emily bent down, beaming.
“How was your first day at your new school, Jacob?” She inquired too sweetly.
Jacob didn’t look up.
“Fine, I guess,” he said, then entered and softly closed the car door. No look. No look.
Ms. Emily looked at me. “Mrs. Bennett, may I speak briefly?”
Clenched stomach. I answered, “Of course,” leaving the car with her.
Her heels clicked lightly as she walked me out from the parking lot. She stopped and looked me in the eye.
Jacob faced some hurdles today.
My back straightened.
Just his first day. Just give him time. Just moved here last week. Everything is new—his room, classmates, etc. Just him and me. That’s much for a kid.”
Her eyes didn’t soften as she nodded.
Of course. However, he had difficulty with course material and confrontations with peers.
I frowned. “Conflicts?”
Arguments primarily. One student complained about not sharing. Another claimed he shoved during recess.”
“That’s not like him,” I said quickly. He’s timid, not aggressive. He never had trouble.”
“I’m sure he’s a sweet boy,” she answered calmly.
“But we need to be honest—he may not fit this school.”
A knot formed in my throat. “Please,” I whispered, “he needs some patience. His footing will be found. He always does.”
A long moment passed as she watched me. Then she nodded slightly.
“We’ll see,” she kindly said, going away.
After she went, I stared at the school.
The windows remained dark. Who knew what transpired behind them? I had no idea why my son hurt.
The car door opened and I in beside Jacob. Silently, he glanced out the window. My chest hurt. Something was wrong—I could tell.
I looked at Jacob in the rearview mirror as we drove down the quiet street with the afternoon sun making long shadows on the dashboard.
His little face was pale, his eyes weary and faraway.
“How was your day, really?” Asking gently, I was calm.
He breathed deeply, sounding too ancient for an eight-year-old. “It was scary,” he whispered.
“No one spoke to me, Mom.”
Chest constricted. I whispered, “Oh, sweetheart, did something happen? Maybe anything you said upset them?”
He slowly shook his head, peering out the window. “No. I did nothing. I just… Miss my old buddies. Can’t we return?
It crushed my heart as his voice cracked on that last word.
I breathed deeply, blinking away the eye sting.
Dear Jacob, I wish we could. But this new job—it matters. It lets me care for us better.”
He remained silent. He kept staring at the road, his reflection ghostly in the glass.
“Will you try again tomorrow?” Softly, I asked. “Just try again.”
He nodded reluctantly but didn’t speak.
My hands were firmly on the steering wheel. Our stillness was heavy. I felt something else was going on inside.
The next morning, I planned to stay calm, attentive, and typical. I smiled and told Jacob to be courageous as I dropped him off at school.
He nodded, clutching his lunchbox, but said nothing. My heart tugged, but I trusted the day would improve.
Later, I showed a couple from out of town a lovely two-story home.
The kitchen was bright and the wood flooring shined. As I described the rear garden, my phone buzzed violently in my pocket.
I apologized and entered the quiet corridor to answer immediately. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Bennett,” Emily clipped. Jacob was involved in a terrible incident. Arrive at school immediately.”
My stomach sank. What happened?
“I’ll explain when you arrive.”
Hanging up, I could barely breathe. I apologized to clients with shaking hands. I said something urgent had happened but didn’t explain why.
I grabbed my keys, ran to the car, and drove away, panicking the whole way.
Tires crunched on gravel as I entered the school parking lot.
I got out of the car and ran toward the front doors without closing the door. A sweet voice called my name.
“Susan?”
Turned and froze.
It was Mark. Jacob’s dad. My ex-husband.
He looked astonished and awkward approaching the school fence.
“Mark,” I gasped. “Why are you here?”
“I could ask you the same,” he said, approaching. You moved here?
I nodded slowly. I didn’t want to bother you. I didn’t believe it was important then.”
A minor jaw tightening. “Why didn’t you tell me? I deserve my son’s location.”
“I know,” I whispered.
I didn’t want you at Jacob’s school stressing him out. Has enough to deal with.”
Mark grimaced and glanced aside. That’s unfair. But I understand.”
Finally, he said, “Funny thing—I’m seeing someone who works here. A small world?
A peculiar coldness overcame me. My hands formed fists without my awareness. “Very small indeed,” I mumbled.
“I should let you go,” he replied, sensing my tension.
“Yeah,” I responded hastily, rushing toward the doors. “Let’s talk later.”
As I entered the building, my thoughts raced—not just about Jacob.
It felt wrong. I sensed things were about to get worse.
The school halls felt unusually still, like the air was holding its breath.
Silence and the faint squeak of my shoes on the glossy floor replaced the typical youngster talk and bustle. The disinfectant fragrance was harsh and frigid.
Thinking rushed as I neared the principal’s office. What did Jacob do? What could be so urgent that I had to come?
When I reached for the handle, a low voice emerged from behind.
“Mrs Bennett?”
I turned, shocked. A middle-aged janitor with friendly eyes and a mop lying against the wall was it. Before approaching, he looked around cautiously.
“I shouldn’t say this,” he murmured, “but they’re lying to you. Your son did nothing wrong. His teacher, Ms. Emily, set him up.”
Catching my breath. “What? Why? You talking about what?
My question was cut short when the office door creaked.
“Mrs. Bennett,” the principal remarked firmly in the doorway. “Please enter.”
In the room, tension was high. Jacob uncomfortably swung his legs in a harsh plastic chair.
His pallid face had tight lips. Ms. Emily sat next to him, hands folded, face blank.
The principal was efficient.
“Your son forged his test scores,” he argued.
Changing his responses made him appear to score higher. This dishonesty, especially following recent behavior issues, cannot be overlooked. We’re considering suspension or removal.”
“What?” Oh, I gasped. “No. Jacob would refuse. You must be wrong.”
Emily spoke calmly and coldly. “Only Jacob’s test changed. He writes like him.”
Jacob panicked and rushed out before I could speak. Mom ordered me to do it! She handed me the pencil to repair!”
“Silence, Jacob!” Miss Emily snapped.
Turned abruptly. “Don’t insult my son.”
Door opened again. Mark intervened, bewildered. Sorry to interrupt—Emily?”
Emily tensed.
“What’s going on?” he questioned, glancing at Jacob and the teacher.
All the puzzle pieces fit immediately.
Emily. The educator. He dated her.
Realization sank my heart. This went beyond school. It was personal. Very personal.
I inhaled and stood upright, staring at the principal. My speech was steady, but my heart raced.
“Let me explain. Emily is dating my ex-husband. Because of that, I think she’s attempting to get my son out of school.”
The room froze.
Mark looked at Emily pointedly, eyebrows lifted in disbelief. Emily, is that true?
Emily glanced between us. She seems ready to refute it. But her face turned hot and her jaw stiffened.
“Fine,” she spat, crossing her arms. “Yes, I recognized Jacob immediately. His identity was clear. Susan, don’t just visit and take Mark from me.”
Her voice trembled with rage and desperation toward the end.
Mark recoiled like if she’d hit him. “Return me? Emily, I was never yours. How dare you involve my son. He’s kid.”
Emily paled as she gazed down. She did not speak.
The principal exhaled and stood slowly from his desk, his voice deep and calm. “Ms. Emily, this is inappropriate personal and professional behavior. You lose your job. Immediately effective.”
I shakily breathed in disbelief and relief.
The principal looked softly at me.
I sincerely apologize, Mrs. Bennett. Jacob stays. We’ll help him in every way.”
I nodded, appreciative, but my concentration was on Jacob. I kneeled beside his chair and hugged him tightly.
His little arms squeezed me tightly.
I mumbled, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” into his hair, suppressing tears. I promise to always believe you first.”
He sniffed and said, “It’s okay, Mom. I’m delighted you finally know the truth.”
Hand in hand, we left the office. Mark walked beside us and gently touched my arm as we reached the entrance.
“Susan,” he said, “I’m sorry. I had no idea what she was doing.”
I nodded, exhausted but honest. We may all find this out someday. For Jacob.”
Warm, bright sun shone outside. Jacob squeezed my hand harder, and I did too.
Silent but steady, we walked to the automobile. Even after everything, I knew we’d be alright.
From thecelebritist.com
