Page 82 of Wicked Nasty

The counselor sputters, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. "Of course not! These kids are lying to cover their own asses!"

We all freeze as a new voice cuts through the tension. "Actually, I can corroborate Miss Carney’s account."

We turn to see Mrs. Patel, the other guidance counselor, standing in the doorway. Her normally kind face is set in a stern expression as she addresses the Dean.

"I overheard Mr. Roberts speaking very inappropriately to Becca earlier. His behavior was completely unacceptable for an educator."

The Dean's face darkens as he processes this information. He turns to the security guard. "Please escort Mr. Roberts to my office. We'll be having a very serious discussion about his future at this school."

As the sputtering counselor is led away, the Dean fixes his gaze on me. "As for you, Mr. Rorke, while I understand your desire to protect your friend, violence is never the answer. You'll be suspended for the next two weeks. But it will not go on your record. Consider yourself lucky. Both of you, go home.”

AfterdroppingBeccaoffat her house, I make my way home. It's a relief to know that it's just down the street, making it an easy and quick walk.

As soon as I enter the front door, I can hear my dad's voice on the phone with the lawyers, working on fixing everything that had happened. My mom greets me with a smile, gently tending to the cuts on my face. "We're so proud of you," she says. "Although, I must admit, I'm not a big fan of violence..."

My dad chuckles and interjects, "Well, I certainly am. That asshole deserved what was coming to him."

My mom playfully rolls her eyes before turning to me. "You really love her, don't you?"

I nod without hesitation. "She's the one for me, forever."

My mom's smile widens. "I'm so glad to hear that. I adore her."

Once my mom finishes tending to my injuries, I grab a small bag from the counter. "I'll be right back. Forgot to give this to Becca."

Exiting the house and walking down the street towards Becca's home, I notice that no one seems to be there. So, I leave the bag on her front step and quickly shoot her a text message letting her know it's there.

I make my way back to my house, the familiar scent of warm cookies and fresh laundry wafting through the air. My mom greets me at the door with a warm hug, her soft voice ringing in my ears.

"We're having a little family meeting before dinner," she says.

I nod eagerly and follow her into the cozy living room. My dad and Del are already seated on the plush couch. As I take a seat next to my sister, my dad stands up and clears his throat.

"I want to start by saying that we will be starting family and individual therapy," he announces, his usually stern voice softened with sincerity.

A smile spreads across my face, knowing that this is exactly what we need as a family. The thought of opening up and healing together brings warmth to my heart.

"That's great, Dad," I say, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. "I think it'll be good for all of us."

Del nods in agreement, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes that I've rarely seen before. "Yeah, I'm actually looking forward to it," she admits softly.

My mom reaches out and squeezes Del's hand. "We all have a lot to work through, but we'll do it together."

Dad continues, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "I also want to apologize to all of you. I know I haven't been the most present father, and I've made mistakes. I want to do better."

The room falls silent for a moment, the weight of his words settling over us. It's a side of Dad I've never seen before, and it fills me with hope for our future as a family.

"We all have room for improvement," Mom says gently, her eyes brimming with tears. "But we love each other, and that's what matters most."

I feel a lump forming in my throat, overwhelmed by the sudden outpouring of emotion. It's been years since we've had a moment like this as a family.

"I have something to share too," Del speaks up, her voice barely above a whisper. We all turn to look at her, curiosity etched on our faces. "I... I've been struggling with anxiety for a while now. I didn't want to burden anyone, but I think I need help."

Mom immediately wraps her arm around Del, pulling her close. "Oh, sweetheart. You're never a burden. We're here for you, always."

Dad nods in agreement, his eyes softening as he looks at Del. "We'll make sure you get the support you need. I'm sorry I didn't notice sooner."

I reach over and squeeze Del's hand, feeling a mix of guilt and relief. I had been so wrapped up in my own problems that I hadn't realized my sister was struggling to.

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