I felt the threat in his touch but I couldn’t just let him take me—I couldn’t!
“I don’t want to go!” I protested, trying to get away from him.
The teacher, Mrs. Spinkler, made a disapproving face at me.
“Now Kira,” she lectured. “I know it’s disappointing to miss another night with your friends, but you need to learn that family always comes first.”
“But…but they’re not my real family!” I protested.
She shook her head, making a tsking sound.
“How can you say that? After that wonderful article in the Wolverton Gazette about your big brother and how close all of you are? I’m surprised at you, Kira. Surprised and ashamed!”
I wanted to kick the stupid woman—how could she be so oblivious! She was sending me off to be molested—probably raped—but if I said anything like that, she would doubtless be shocked and disbelieving. Still, I had to try.
“I don’t want to go with him because Gary tries to touch me!” I exclaimed, looking her right in the eye. “He’s always grabbing me and trying to get his hands under my shirt and down my pants! Please, Mrs. Spinkler—you have to believe me!”
These days when a teacher hears an accusation like that, they’re required to at least call CPS and have them make an inquiry. I don’t know if that was the law back then but even if it had been, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t have changed anything.
Mrs. Spinkler’s eyes widened and her mouth pursed disapprovingly.
“Kira! How can you tell such a terrible lie?” she demanded. “Why, Gary Spaulding is a pillar of our community! He and his wife are the kindest, most caring foster parents around.”
“No, they’re not!” I said desperately. “They’re horrible to us! They—”
“I have never seen anyone tell such egregious lies, just to get to stay one more night with their friends!” Mrs. Spinkler exclaimed. “Young lady, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!”
“I’m afraid we do have a lot of problems with Kira being untruthful,” Gary Spaulding said apologetically. “Foster kids often act out—I apologize for her.” He shook his head sadly. “You know, Nancy and I do the best we can with every kid that comes to our house, but you just can’t reach them all.”
Of course you do.” Mrs. Spinkler was still giving me the “stink eye” as my Mamma would have said. “And I want you to know I don’t believe a word of this nonsense Kira is spouting.”
“Thank you.” My foster father smiled at her and tightened his grip on my arm yet again. “Well, young lady—let’s get you home to see your mother,” he said to me.
“Have a safe trip!” Mrs. Spinkler gave him a sweet smile and me another disapproving frown before turning to walk back across the parking lot.
I felt utterly trapped. I tried to yank away from Gary Spaulding but his grip on my arm was too strong.
“You’re going to pay for that, you little slut,” he muttered in my ear as he opened the back passenger seat and shoved me inside his car. “Trying to blacken my good name! You better fucking believe you’re going to pay!”
As he was pushing me into the car, I happened to see one of my band mates—a skinny boy with a shock of red hair and a face full of freckles—staring at us from across the parking lot. His name was Carl Langerstrom and he played the tuba. We weren’t close at all—we weren’t even in the same section, since I played a woodwind and he played brass. But I could see that his eyes were wide as he watched the struggle between Gary and me.
“Help!” I shouted as loudly as I could. “Help me! Tell Nick he’s taking me! Help!”
My last words were muffled since Gary had finally managed to get the door shut. He pressed his key-fob and locked them too, making me a prisoner in the dark blue BMW.
“That’s enough of that shit!” I heard him mutter. He gave Carl Langerstrom a friendly wave and I heard him shout. “She’s just kidding! I’m her foster dad—taking her home to see her mom because she’s sick.”
Carl nodded uncertainly, his eyes still wide and I had a sinking feeling in my gut. He was probably going to take Gary’s words as the gospel truth and not tell anyone a thing. And if the other teachers asked where I was, Mrs. Spinkler would happily spout his lies about taking me home to be with my “dear, sick foster mother.”
All of this meant that Nick wasn’t going to know I was gone until it was too late to do anything about it. His brand might be burning, but even if he appeared right now and saw Gary driving me away, what could he do? He didn’t have a car of his own or any way to get back to Wolverton. He would have to wait and ride the bus like everyone else tomorrow.