Page 82 of Follow My Voice
“It won’t make any difference. We have no proof.”
“Ellie,” I plead, “please open the door.”
She swings the stall door open and it breaks my heart to see how red her face is from crying. She’s sitting on top of the closed toilet lid, sniffling, her eyes full of tears.
“Hey, maybe you’re right,” I say, crouching down in front of her and conjuring up my best smile. “But this issue won’t just solve itself if we sit back and do nothing. Besides, you’re forgetting something very important.”
“What?”
“You’re not alone.” I clasp her hands in mine. “It’s one for all and all for one.”
Ellie smiles. “Thank you, Klara. But I still don’t want to go to the dean’s office. Besides, it’s not like we can just barge in through her door and demand to speak with her.”
She has a point, but I’m not one to give up so easily, at least I’m trying not to be anymore. I march to Mrs. Barnes’s office, with Ellietrailing behind me. Outside the dean’s office, I explain the situation to her secretary, who, after consulting with the dean, says she has twenty minutes to spare. But it’s just as Ellie feared.
“Do you have any proof that it was Yana?” the dean asks.
“No, but we know it was her.”
“I don’t doubt your words, girls, but in order to file a formal complaint, we’d need proof, especially with a matter as sensitive as online harassment.”
“Mrs. Barnes, this is clearly Yana taking revenge. She got into a fight with Ellie and Perla at a party on Friday, after the game, and we’re sure—”
“Klara,” the dean interrupts, “that happened off-site, not here at the college, so I can’t intervene. I can only focus on what happens here. I’ll talk to Yana.”
“She’ll deny it, obviously.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s all I can do.”
Ellie and I exchange disappointed glances. So this is where the system fails us; this is why so many people who experience any form of harassment suffer in silence without saying a word—because nobody will do anything to help them. They tell you to speak up, but, at least here, that’s just lip service. When it comes down to things, nothing gets done.
We leave the dean’s office and I can see the dejectedness on Ellie’s face. I put an arm around her. “Everything is going to be okay,” I assure her.
“Ladies!” Perla looks gorgeous today with her hair in two braids on either side of her face. She’s wearing a long, flowy baby-blue skirt with a tight white top. Perla’s style is so cool and always gives a relaxed vibe. “Are you okay?” she asks Ellie.
She nods.
“I got your message. What did Mrs. Barnes say?”
“That she’ll talk to Yana. But I’m sure she’ll deny everything.”
“Oh, she definitely will, that rat bastard…”
I raise an eyebrow. “Wow. Your insults are evolving.”
Ellie smiles, and I’m so happy to see it. “We’re going to need to work on our insults,” she says as we move down the hall.
“Okay,” Perla says enthusiastically, “enlighten us.”
“Well, we want to keep it classy, not crude. The person won’t even understand what we’re calling them because they’re so wholly uncultured.”
“I’m not sure I’m all that cultured,” I admit.
“Ditto,” says Perla.
“Don’t worry, I’ll explain every insult to you.”
“Perfect.”
