Page 71 of (Not So) Mad About You

And somehow Bea had to pay for this.

“Your stupid fucking report,” she said again. “Telling tales on me, saying that I didn’t go to your stupid little classes, saying that I hadn’t completed the program.”

“Wait, you mean my attendance report?” said Bea, looking confused.

Alli’s stomach burned with acid. “Yes, you idiot, your stupid fucking attendance report.”

Bea turned ashen. “But… but…”

“But nothing,” said Alli. “Your stupid report meant that Luke didn’t graduate me from the program. Just like you knew it would. And guess what? Now I don’t have a job anymore. So thank you so much for that.”

It was shame, that was part of it. The shame of turning up that morning all bright and ready to work, ready to change things, ready to compromise a little just for Bea. And then to have that all dashed, thrown in her face, to have everything snatched away from her in a moment. It made her blood boil.

“Alli…”

“Don’t. Don’t even say my name,” Alli said. “I don’t want to hear it. Don’t want to hear you. I’m just here to let you know that you’ve ruined my fucking life. Ruined it. Understood? So whatever conscience you have can hold that over you for the rest of your life. If you even care.”

“Of course I care,” Bea said. She was white and looked sick. “Of course I care.”

“Yeah, right. That’s why you did it, because you care.”

“I didn’t do it,” said Bea. “Well, I did. But not intentionally. Well, kind of. I mean…”

“Yes, what do you mean?” Alli asked, super saccharine sweet. “Why don’t you explain everything, if you can? Go ahead, try and talk your way out of this.”

Bea took a shuddering breath. “I just filled out the report,” she said. “I filled it out honestly like I was supposed to. I did tell you, Alli. I told you that I had reports to file, I told you that participation was important.”

“And I fucking participated!”

“I know,” said Bea. “I know you did. The second half of the classes you participated in. I put that in the report. And I put that you participated in group therapy, that you shared and did everything you were supposed to. I didn’t lie, Alli. I didn’t. All I did was tell the truth.”

Alli shook her head. “All you did was ruin my life.”

Bea took a step forward.

“No,” said Alli, holding out her hands to stop Bea coming closer. “Don’t even think about it. I don’t want you near me.”

“What did you expect me to do?” Bea pleaded. “I was doing my job, telling the truth. I had no idea that Luke wouldn’t graduate you from the program just because of that. Of course I didn’t.”

Alli balled her fists at her side, trying to hold on to something, trying to find some other way that this could all work out, some other explanation or justification or anything.

“What would you have done?” asked Bea. “This is my job. Wouldn’t you have done the same? I know that you love your job, that you wouldn’t risk it, that—”

“Loved,” Alli growled. “Loved as in past tense. As in, I no longer have a job. As in you made me lose it. I just can’t…” She trailed off, lost for words, and Bea tried to come closer again.

“Alli, I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say, I don’t…”

“Stay the hell away from me,” Alli said. She could see Bea’s warm dark eyes, she could practically feel her skin, could see her as though through a veil. She wanted so much for this to go away, all of it, for it to be just her and Bea, but that was over now, it was all over now.

“Alli, please.”

“No,” said Alli. “No. Stay away from me. Stay the hell away from me. This is all your fault. I’ve lost everything. Do you get that? Could you even begin to understand?” She shook her head. “Of course you can’t. How could you?”

“I do,” Bea began.

“No, no, you don’t. You with your crappy little teaching job, you who wants nothing more than for everyone to be happy, you who sacrifices herself every hour of every day like you’re some kind of modern martyr. You couldn’t possibly understand what it’s like to lose something this important, this integral.”

“Alli, please, let’s talk about this.”

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