Sweetest Taboo (14 page)

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Authors: Eva Márquez

BOOK: Sweetest Taboo
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“Liz, it’s me!” I replied.

“Izzy! I didn’t recognize your voice. You sounded just like your mom.”

“Yeah, lots of people say that, that’s why I’ve stopped picking up the phone when she’s not home. Anyway, what’s going on? Did something happen? Did you and Brad finally … you know?”

I could sense some hesitation in Liz’s voice. There was as an awkward silence before she finally spoke.

“I’ve got to tell you something, Isabel,” she said, her tone serious. “I really didn’t want to have to do this, but I think you should know what’s happening here.”

Oh my God, Liz was going to drop some kind of bomb and in my depressive state, I wasn’t sure I could handle it.

“What is it, Liz?” I demanded. “What’s going on?”

“Look I’m just going to say it, okay?” Liz cleared her throat. “The secret’s out. Everyone knows about you and Mr. Stevens. He’s been taken in by the police for questioning. The police are here at the school – they took me out of class on Friday and asked me a bunch of questions about you and Mr. Stevens–“

“Liz, you didn’t tell them anything, did you?” I cut in, my heart pounding. “Please tell me you backed me up and told them that none of it is true?”

“Izzy, you know that I would be the last person to sell you out like that. I didn’t tell them anything. I told them that you guys were friends because he was your swim coach, that’s all.” She paused. “But they know
everything
, Isabel. The letters you wrote to him, your make-out sessions up in the mountains … everything! They wanted to know if I could corroborate … is that the word they used? I don’t remember. They wanted to get testimony from students and teachers at the school, and they were hard-asses, Isabel. Like, they wouldn’t let things go …”

I gasped. “How did this happen? How did the police know about Tom and me?” My heart raced and a metallic taste flooded my mouth – the forerunner of the adrenaline coursing through my body. “I’ve never said anything to anyone about Tom and me. The only friends I ever told were you and Sarah. How did this happen?”

“The police said that Sarah had written a letter to Mrs. Drake, exposing in detail everything you and Mr. Stevens had done,” Liz replied slowly. “Sarah wrote that she always told you not to get involved with Mr. Stevens, but that you did it anyway. She said she was disgusted by some of the letters Mr. Stevens wrote to you, and that’s why she wanted the authorities to know about what had gone on between you two. The cops didn’t let me see the letter, but they kept waving it around and saying that it was all in there, and they didn’t seem to believe what I was telling them. They each had a copy of Sarah’s letter and I could see that things had been blacked out with a marker, like names or something.”

I felt as if someone had sunk a knife into my back. Someone I completely trusted had betrayed me. I realized now why Sarah hadn’t replied to any of the letters I’d sent her, and why she hadn’t even sent me a birthday card. This must be the reason – she betrayed me and didn’t want to tell me about it.

“Oh God,” I breathed quietly. Sarah had known everything. I’d told her everything that went on, and even let her read the letters. How could I have been so stupid? Tom had made me promise to keep everything a secret, and I’d gone and given it all away, just to tell one of my friends interesting stories!

That wasn’t fair, I reminded myself. I had been telling Sarah the stories to try to prove to her that Tom wasn’t a bad guy, that we weren’t doing anything wrong, that we were truly in love. That didn’t make it any better, I realized now; it had still been a violation of trust, and a huge betrayal.

And now Tom was paying the price for my stupidity.

“Izzy, are you still there?” Liz asked.

“What am I going to do?” I whispered. My chest hurt so much that I could barely breathe. “What about Tom, is he okay? Is he still at school? What have they done with him? They can’t do anything unless they have real proof, right? They need me to admit to something, don’t they?”

“That’s the other thing, Isabel,” Liz said. “Principal Warren asked me for your phone number in Chile. He said that the police wanted to talk to you. I told him that I didn’t know if I had it, and he answered that they would just find another way to get it. I thought the best thing would be for you to clear this up yourself, so I gave it to them. But I wanted to call you first to give you some warning so you wouldn’t be blindsided by the whole thing. I’m so sorry, Isabel. I hope you’re not pissed off at me.”

“No, of course I’m not mad at you,” I told her, my heart sinking. I suddenly felt exhausted, utterly drained. “They’d find my number sooner or later, anyway. Sarah promised me that she’d keep this a secret. She promised that she wouldn’t judge me. I need you to swear – absolutely swear – that you won’t do the same thing she did. Promise me that you’ll stick to the story, no matter what? Promise me?”

“Sure, Izzy, I won’t change my story,” Liz assured me. “I’m not like Sarah. Just keep your story straight with the cops if they call … well,
when
they call. Okay?”

“I will. Thanks, Liz. Talk to you soon … hopefully.”

“Yup, talk soon. Bye, Isabel.”

My mind was spinning as I hung up the phone. Should I tell my parents? Should I warn them before the police called? Or should I hold off telling them, just in case the police dropped the case and never called? What about Tom? What had they done with him? Had the police arrested him?
Could
the police arrest him? Was he still teaching? Did he tell the truth when questioned? Was he even questioned, or was he just thrown into jail? I had heard about how alleged sexual offenders were treated, and the thought sent a cold shiver up my spine. I couldn’t bear to think about Tom suffering like that.

***

I lived by the phone for the next three days, jumping out of my skin each time it rang. The phone call I was dreading didn’t come until a week later, at a very bad time. It was Saturday and we had just finished lunch. My mom was washing the dishes, and my dad sat at the kitchen table. Tony was out of the house, and I was just on my way back to my bedroom. It was early afternoon, but I’d been moping all morning and still wore my pajamas.

I froze when I heard the phone ring. A few minutes went by, and then I heard my mom shout out, “Isabel!”

There was a shrill edge in my mother’s usually pleasant voice, and that confirmed my worst fears. I ran back downstairs, my mind racing. This was it, then. What on earth was I going to say? And what could I say to my parents? My mom stood in the kitchen with the phone in her hand, a frown on her face.

“Isabel, there’s a police officer from the Hillside Police Department on the line,” she said sternly. “He asked my permission to question you about a teacher at Royal Oaks. Please tell him exactly what he needs to know.”

My mouth grew dry and sticky and I swallowed, trying to find my voice. I took the receiver from my mom’s hand, swallowed one more time, then answered.

“Hello?”

“Good afternoon. Am I speaking to Miss Isabel Cruz?” asked a male voice at the other end of the line.

“Yes, that’s me,” I said, keeping my eye on my mom. She glanced at me, frowned, and walked back to the sink to resume washing the dishes.

“My name is Officer Jeffrey Gray from the Hillside Police Department. I’m calling about Mr. Thomas Stevens, a teacher at Royal Oaks High School. He is currently under investigation.”

I made an attempt to sound surprised. “Really?”

“Yes. He has been suspended until the allegations against him are investigated further. Miss Cruz, have you ever been alone with Mr. Stevens, either in his classroom or anywhere else?”

“Yes, on a few occasions,” I replied. “He was my swim coach; I never had him as a teacher, but we were friendly during the swim season,” I noticed my dad get up from the table and walk into the living room.

“Has Mr. Stevens ever said anything inappropriate to you? Anything sexual?”

“No, never.”

“Did Mr. Stevens ever touch you inappropriately, in a sexual manner?”

“No, officer.”

“Did Mr. Stevens ever attempt to kiss you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Look, Miss Cruz, serious allegations of sexual misconduct with a minor have been brought against Mr. Stevens. We need you to be completely honest with us so that we can get to the bottom of this. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand. Do these allegations include several minors? I mean, why are you calling me?” I asked, trying to sound naïve while attempting to extract more information from him. I was shocked and upset, and worried about Tom, but I was also curious about how many people had come forward. Did the allegations include his misconduct with other girls? Part of me had always wondered.

“I’m not at liberty to talk about the specifics of the case,” Officer Gray said. “But I can say that you are one of the students named in the allegations against Mr. Stevens. Have you ever witnessed Mr. Stevens speak to or touch any female student in an inappropriate or sexual manner?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Has Mr. Stevens ever taken you outside of the school premises in his vehicle?”

“Yes, Mr. Stevens gave me a few rides home after swim practice. But you should know that Mr. Stevens did that for nearly half the team, after practices and meets. He was always very nice to all of us.”

“So you’re telling me that nothing physical ever went on between you and Mr. Stevens?”

“No, not at all. Mr. Stevens is a really nice person. He’s a little flirty but I would say that he’s innocently flirty. Maybe some girls, the ones that made the allegations, took his flirty nature the wrong way.”

“Let me make this clear, Miss Cruz. I’m asking whether you and Mr. Stevens ever engaged in a physical relationship, whether it be kissing, touching, or hugging. Please just answer the question.”

“No, nothing like that ever happened between us,” I answered, steadying my voice. How much did they know? How much trouble was he in? If I was the only student named in the case, and I refused to cooperate…

“All right. If that’s the case, thank you for your time.”

“Sure, Officer.” I listened for the
click
and finally the dial tone, then put the phone back in its cradle.

My mother looked over at me from the kitchen sink.

“So, what did the police officer want? Did you give him the information he needed?”

“Yes, Mami, I answered all his questions,” I replied. I walked toward the kitchen to help her dry the dishes, praying that she didn’t hear the lie in my voice. I didn’t look up at her, knowing that she would recognize the lie in my eyes. “They’re making a big deal out of nothing with the teacher who was my swim coach. He’s a nice guy, but I guess someone said some bad things about him, you know, things that make him look like a bad person.”

This was the most extensive conversation about the incident I would ever have with my mom. She dropped it quickly, as an unpleasant thing that she didn’t want to discuss. My dad, on the other hand, was much more concerned about the implications. Later that afternoon, he walked into my room without knocking. I pretended to be asleep because I was in no mood to have a conversation with him, but he reached out and placed his rough hand on my head.

“Isabel, get up,” he said to me in Spanish. “I want to talk to you about something.”

I sat up warily, “What is it, Papi?”

He looked at me with somber eyes.

“Isabel, I hope you were being very honest with that police officer today,” he said. “I’m not sure what he asked you, or what answers he was after, but your mother told me that he wanted to ask you about your swim coach. Wasn’t that the man that once came to our house to see you? Did anything happen between you and that man? Did he – did he ever touch you?”

Lying to a faceless voice over the phone was one thing, but lying to my father when he was sitting right in front of me was entirely different. I had no other choice, though. I had to keep my story straight, right until the end. For Tom’s sake. That meant telling everyone the same story. Only Tom and Liz could know the truth. I just hoped they were telling the same story that I was.

“No, Papi,” I told him, looking into his concerned eyes. “Like I told mom and the police, he’s just really nice to everyone, and he’s friendly to the girls. Someone must have gotten the wrong idea or jumped to conclusions when they saw him giving us rides, or maybe one of the girls took his flirting too seriously. Maybe she got a crush on him then got hurt when he turned her down. That’s all. There was nothing going on between us.”

My dad looked down at his weathered hands. He looked up again, the expression on his face drawn, as if he were burdened by a terrible, invisible weight.

“Isabel, you’re my daughter and I love you,” he said, meeting my gaze. “And I believe you, even if the police don’t. But if I were to ever find out that you lied to me about this … it would break my heart.”

With that my dad stood up and walked out of my bedroom. I watched him go, wondering what he expected me to do. I knew that he had a different view of the world than I did, but I also knew that I was in love with Tom, and looking for a way to protect him. Would I sacrifice Tom’s safety – and my love – for my father’s emotions? I knew that I would not – they weren’t equal risks, and they had vastly different consequences.

As my father left, though, I wondered whether he would ever understand that. Whether he would ever take the time to listen to my side of the story. In my heart, I believed that he had already made his judgment, and judged both Tom and I guilty. I hoped that the police never talked to him about our case.

Chapter Twelve

Better Be Home Soon

T
he telephone call with Officer Gray haunted me for weeks. One thing in particular continued to gnaw at me and kept me up nights: had other girls really come forward, as Officer Gray had implied? Or was that just a tactical investigative ploy to get me to sing? Had Tom been involved with other girls at school as well? Had he lied to me all this time, promising that I was the only one he had done something like this with?

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