In fact, the two of us share the screen a lot.
I didn’t realize how focused Brett was on me while I was talking, not until I see it now. His eyes hardly ever left my profile, his jaw tightening, his chest rising with deep breaths, his eyes blinking back emotion of his own, his hand on his lap tensing, fingers stretching as if he’s about to reach for me more than once.
And once or twice, the camera captures a close-up of his aqua blue eyes when I turn to look at him. That fascinated way he looked at me—I didn’t imagine it. The camera has caught it, plain as day.
It also captures the times those eyes drop to my mouth. I feel my face heating as my entire family watches and listens quietly. Somehow, with only angles and edits, The Weekly has made this look like a highly intimate interview.
They didn’t edit out any of the dialogue either. Not even the part where I disparage myself and look down at my chest. That earned Jack’s belt of laughter, even as my cheeks burned bright. The only thing I noticed that they did take out was the part where Simone told them to move on, but the part about Brenna’s father not being a part of our lives . . . even that’s still there.
Thankfully, Keith sensed the topic switching to Scott Philips and scooped up Brenna before I had a chance to, carrying her to her bedroom with a promise to show her something cool on his phone. She’ll hear about her mother’s sordid past sooner than I’d like, but not tonight.
The fifteen-minute on-site segment is over in a flash, and then the show is back to Kate and Rick in their newsroom. “What an incredible story!” Rick exclaims. “Can you imagine driving home on some lonely dark road and coming across a wreck like that? I mean, I’d like to think I’d do the same thing that Catherine Wright did.”
“We’d all like to think we’d be that brave, but honestly? I don’t know how many people would be. Especially when you’re a petite woman? You saw the two of them sitting next to each other. That wasn’t a trick of the camera. She’s half his size!”
She’s right about the size, but I’m beginning to think there may have been some tricks of the camera. Putting us side by side on a snug couch, having my knee rest against his, all the close-ups . . .
I can’t help but think they’re trying to suggest something.
“She seems like a real sweetheart. Honestly, I had no idea what kind of person you’d be facing when you went off for that interview.”
“A brave young woman who is working and raising her daughter in the best way she can is who I was facing.” Kate’s shaking her head. “Nothing makes my blood boil as much as hearing how, at seventeen, she was victimized not only by a teacher but also by the school principal and her community.”
“We only have her word, though, Kate. And she recanted her statement,” Rick warns.
“Because she was in love with him. I believe that she was telling the truth in the first place. The statement she gave to the police, she didn’t know she had any other choice. She was seventeen and terrified. And we do have more than just her word, Rick. Our sources had no trouble tracking down the school secretary, Mrs. Lagasse. She remembers Catherine Wright being called down to the office that day. She wondered what the girl could have done wrong within the first hour of classes resuming after spring break. And then news spread that Catherine recanted the very next day, and she questioned what was said behind those closed doors.”
My and Rick Daly’s eyebrows pop up in unison. That bitter old secretary remembered that day?
“Plus, there’s the arrest report. Tell me, Rick, what was a flirty thirty-year-old teacher doing texting his student, telling her she’s beautiful? That wasn’t the only text he ever sent her, either. He sent her many others that the police recovered.”
“No smoking gun, though.”
“No. He was careful. And how about the night Catherine Wright’s mother followed her out and found him waiting in his car outside. He claims he was just ‘in the neighborhood.’ ”
Rick shakes his head. “It definitely raises questions.”
“Our culture sensationalizes this fantasy of students and their older, attractive teachers falling in love,” Kate says. “Girls develop crushes on their teachers all the time. I know I did! His name was Mr. Smith and he was twenty-seven years old. He taught me science my sophomore year. Mr. Smith, if you’re watching”—Kate holds her hands up to the camera in a calming gesture—“don’t be creeped out, but you were a hottie when I was fifteen. My point is, a lot of girls develop crushes on their teachers. And what do teenage girls do when they have crushes? They giggle, they flirt, they raise their hands to answer questions, they ask for extra help after class. Their hormones are raging, their curiosity is at its peak. But there is no valid excuse for a teacher to take that to the next level, if that is in fact what happened here. I guess we’ll never be able to let the justice system determine that, though. Not after Catherine Wright was influenced to recant her statement by her school principal—Scott’s father—and then the DA decided not to pursue the charges. The district attorney who was part of the same college fraternity as Scott Philips’s father, by the way. That took my little team of investigators only two hours to uncover. That makes me want to ask more questions. You too, Rick?”
Rick heaves a sigh. “And now Scott Philips is teaching at a Memphis private school?”
“For now. Since this story aired and his identity and past has been made known, we’ve received reports of a similar situation with another female student. Hopefully the Memphis police department will investigate.” She shakes her head. “This is a case of a privileged man taking advantage of a teenage girl, probably because he figured he wouldn’t be punished. His father was the principal, his uncle was the superintendent, his mother owns a successful real estate brokerage here in town. Her family founded Balsam. And you all heard how Catherine was treated, how her family was treated. The job losses, bricks through windows, the name-calling, the spitting—”
Rick sounds genuinely surprised. “Girls, spitting at each other?”
“I’ve seen that happen, too. And in this case, it was bad enough that Catherine dropped out of school just to get away from it all, making her life even harder. Thank God there are good people in that community, like the owner of that diner, which I’m definitely going to be eating at the next chance I get.” Kate levels the camera with a hard gaze. “Was Catherine capable of saying no to her teacher? Sure. She wasn’t a child. But she was in love, and when you’re a teenage girl in love, you aren’t capable of truly appreciating the consequences to your life. This is not a woman who should ever have been villainized, and I can certainly tell you that after the way she risked her life, she should be honored and celebrated as the hero she is. Brett Madden has a guardian angel and her name is Catherine Wright.”