He glares at Mateo. “I trusted you with her,” he seethes. “I explained that she was very vulnerable. And what did you do? You took advantage of her.”
Mateo sighs and looks over at me. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry if you think that, but I’m not sorry for what I did last night. Phil Alexander was dangerous. Jason, as you well know, Shannon, was dangerous. I got them off the streets. So I’ll apologize for not giving you time to recover from the death of your sister, for being a shitty teacher, for being a liar, and for being…” He glances at Bowman real fast and then back to me. “For being… insistent that you were mine.”
He looks at Bowman again. “But I will not apologize for loving her. I don’t care what you say about it, what we have is good. The way I got her to trust me was the best I could do, and she passed that class by working hard. So if you think you’re going to try to take that away and stop her from graduating, I’ll fight you over it, Bowman. I will. She can retake all those tests and she will pass every single one.”
They glare at each other for several moments and then Bowman looks over at me. “Is that how you feel, Shannon?”
“God.” I sigh. “I’m really not here to discuss my love life, OK? It’s none of your business anymore, Mr. Bowman. I don’t need help with Mateo. You said I should come to you if I needed help with Olivia. Well, I need help. I really, really need your help.” And then it all comes spilling out. I tell him everything I never wanted him, or anyone, to know about me. I tell him about Jill, about Jason, about the drugs, the violence. Everything.
And when I’m done I let out a deep breath. “So will you help me?”
He looks sad. With each new revelation about what’s really been going on, his expression gets more and more concerned. But now he just looks sad. “I failed you. Completely failed you.”
“You didn’t,” I insist. “I didn’t tell anyone how bad it was. Not Danny, not Mateo, not you. I just want to know if you can help me get Olivia back.”
“I have to be honest, Shannon. It’s not looking good. My wife is a social worker and I know from experience that they do not let many younger relatives take care of infants. Especially those who failed to notice the signs of drugging over a long period of time. As you have found out the hard way, new adults don’t have the experience to handle some things. Or the money, or the time, or the commitment.”
“We’re committed,” Mateo says.
“We?” Bowman sneers. “So you’re volunteering to take care of this child? You don’t even know her.”
“I know her,” Mateo growls. “I might not know Olivia, but I know Shannon. And we’re not going to stop until we get that baby back. With or without your help, Bowman. We’re getting her back.”
Maybe Mateo isn’t such a bad guy.
But Bowman is looking like he’s about to blow a gasket. “Look,” I interrupt his explosion. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I understand that I don’t have much experience in being an adult. I know I’m only eighteen. But I’m smart. You said so yourself. And I’ve got a bright future. You said that too. So help me. I did everything you asked this semester, even though none of it was fair or even logical. I did the work once and I’m willing to do it again.”
He looks at me, thinking.
“Please,” Mateo says. “She needs that kid, Bowman. And that kid needs her. Don’t let them take away the only thing Shannon has left.”
Bowman takes his time as he sorts us out in his mind. “It’s not going to be easy,” he finally says.
“We don’t care,” Mateo replies. “We’ll do whatever it takes.”
“It’s not going to be immediate, either. They are notoriously slow in Social Services.”
“That’s OK,” I say. “I want them to do it right.”
“It’s going to require a lot of sacrifices.”
“We’re willing to make them,” Mateo says, reaching for my hand across the aisle. He squeezes it, but his eyes never leave Bowman.
After several agonizing seconds, Bowman sighs. “I’ll call my wife and see what I can do.”
He leaves us after that, saying he will get in touch when he hears something, and Mateo and I get up out of the students’ desks and look at each other.
We don’t say anything. He just leads me out of the building, down the stairs, and we walk home in silence. When we get in front of his house he says, “You’re coming in.”
It’s not a request.
I follow him into the house and sit at the kitchen table. “Thank you,” I say, as he sits across from me. “I appreciate what you said back there.”
“I meant every word, Shannon.”
I nod.
“What?” he asks. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
I stare into his green eyes. He’s fucking handsome. His body is hot, he’s good in bed, he’s smart, he’s got money, and a bright future. He helped me this semester in so many ways. He helped me pass trig and he fed me. He took me on dates, to Hawaii, and he made me feel so good when we were together.