"Dust-Rose, are you following this?" Valentine asked as she stood beside the whiteboard, Valentine pen held poised as she was in the process of solving a complex equation. Dusty sighed wearily and nodded. They were two weeks into her extensive tutoring schedule.
Each day after school, she studied in a dedicated effort to raise her grades across the board. She met with Valentine three nights a week. Even though she was only into the second week, she'd already started to hear the vicious rumors of school gossip.
"There goes Ms. Quinn' pet," girls would snipe as Dusty walked past them. She was no longer able to hold her head high. Without the armor of her cheerleading uniform, she'd become a target for other students to belittle and poke fun at. What worried her was how much all the negative attention would intensify if people found out about her trailer roots.
She'd been so careful to hide it, so meticulous in the creation of her alternate persona, but now she risked it all unraveling around her.
"What do you and Ms. Quinn do after school?" Justin had launched a surprise attack on Dusty as she was walking down the corridor solo, abandoned by Cora, who was at a lunchtime cheerleading practice. "Or does she just do you?" Justin had added, a comment that caused his surrounding jock friends to erupt into fits of laughter.
Dusty had turned bright red and scurried away from their taunts. "Dusty-Rose," Valentine called her name a second time from the front of the classroom. "It's negative four," Dusty said.
"I'm in the process of solving this for you," Valentine objected.
"Well, you're wasting your time. The answer is negative four," Dusty retorted, playing the part of the petulant teenager. She knew she was being difficult. She saw the exasperation in Valentine's eyes each time she played up, and was sassy towards her, but she couldn't help it.
Whenever she sat in a room with her, she felt deafened by the catcalls of the other students that had haunted her day, making her unable to concentrate. What bothered her more than anything was a recent story that had broken about a girl in a neighboring school who had been caught having an affair with her history tutor.
The man in question was much older than Valentine and married with children, but the community's reaction to the story revolved around the abuse of trust enforced by the tutor, and the wicked seduction displayed by the girl. Somehow, both parties had come out of the scenario as villains. The history tutor had been unceremoniously fired from his post with immediate effect, whiles the female student, unable to withstand the relentless bullying from her peers was now being homeschooled.
The leak ruined both her name and reputation. Dusty didn't want the same for herself. Nothing sexual had occurred between her and Valentine. That didn't mean that she hadn't thought about it. A lot. In fact, she thought about it so much that it added to her unease and frustration.
Dusty feared that the more time she spent with
Valentine, the more she opened herself up to temptation and the possibility of overstepping the line that would forever define her as a whore and rob Valentine of her hard-earned career. Yet the fact that nothing had occurred between them did not stop the gossips or the bullies.
Graffiti had appeared in various stalls declaring that Dusty acted out explicit sex acts on Valentine during their extra tutorials. When she first saw the comments, Dusty tried to dismiss them, but eventually they soaked into her conscience, and she became fearful of what people thought of her. Even though she'd done nothing wrong, the rumors alone could be enough to seal her fate.
The only people who knew the truth were her and Valentine, but if the scandal continued to grow as it was, their testimonies, while truthful, wouldn't be enough to convince people who were already so certain of what had transpired.
"Lately, each time you're in here you just act up." Valentine sighed, placing down the her pen. Dusty was silent, unable to know how to explain how she was feeling. "I know that you're not like this with your other tutors," Valentine continued, sounding hurt.
"They all rave about how well you're doing." Dusty still didn't respond.
"Did you at least finish your application?" Valentine asked, her voice tentative.
"Yes," Dusty answered this, feeling guilty over both her attitude and the fact that she'd completed the application without her. A part of her hadn't wanted Valentine involved in case some rumor story ever did break. Dusty had chosen her least favorite teacher, Mrs. Clark, an elderly spinster who taught English, to help her compile her personal statement.
The old lady had been more than happy to help, and her attitude towards Dusty had thawed considerably now that she knew the full truth about the former cheerleader. That was another source of anguish for Dusty. The faculties were now aware about everything.
About her father dying, about her home life. They pitied her, and their pity helped keep their silence. They understood all too well how cruel and fragile the social world of high school could be. And so they kept Dusty-Rose Black a secret and helped her work her way towards a better future.
It was only two days previously that Dusty had actually worked up the confidence to post her application. With her hood up and Paramore bleeding into her ears, she'd walked out of the trailer park, brown envelope nestled beneath her arm, and headed to the nearest mailbox.
She'd stood frozen above the open mail slot, the letter hanging inches away from the dark depths. With a quick release of her hand, so many things would be set in motion and the letter irretrievable. She'd stayed like that for a few minutes, wondering whether or not to send it.
And then she thought of her father. Remembering his warm kind face and the familiar scent, he always carried with him. He'd always smelt like home to her, and whenever he'd held her in his arms, she'd felt safe, she'd felt loved. She imagined what her father would say if he knew, she was applying to Princeton. She knew he would be proud of her. He'd probably rush out and buy her a state-of-the-art laptop in both his excitement and certainty that she'd get in. But the most
important thing was that he'd be pleased for her.
So many times over the last four years, Dusty had felt the shadow over her life in the knowledge that her actions would only have disappointed her father. Now, for the first time she felt she was doing something positive, something worthy of him. Without further deliberation, she let go of the envelope and heard it crash among the other letters with a soft, satisfying thud.
"Well, I'm glad you sent in your application." Valentine nodded, but her eyes belied her sadness. Dusty's attitude was hurting her; she could see that. But each moment they were alone she locked into an internal battle not to run into Valentine arms and place her lips on hers. As much as her body yearned to do it, her mind knew better.
She was on the precipice of so much that, just one passion-fuelled kiss could ruin it all. "I'm not sure I don't need any more math tutoring," Dusty declared, her voice soft but firm.
"Dusty, what..." Valentine looked at her in confusion.
"My grades are up. I'm already ahead of where I need to be in math. I'm just wasting your time being here," Dusty explained.
"Of course you're not wasting my time," Valentine objected.
"Yes, I am," Dusty told him. Valentine was silent as she looked at Dusty in shocked surprise, not sure what to say.
"Don't tell me you haven't heard the rumors," Dusty continued. "Or seen the ugly things that have been written about me in the stalls."
"But they're just that, rumors." Valentine shrugged. "You just need to ignore them."
"They're damaging rumors."
"But rumors nonetheless," Valentine pleaded with her. "We've done nothing wrong."
"Do you think the Princeton board of administration would see it that way?" Dusty challenged, dropping the blow that she knew would cause Valentine not to retaliate. As she anticipated, Valentine sank back into her chair and gazed despondently at the floor.
"I hadn't thought of that," Valentine admitted.
"Well, I have." Dusty forced herself to sound firm, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen.
"I only want what's best for you, you know that?" Valentine looked up at Dusty, her own eyes misted with tears.
"If you want what's best for me, you'll treat me just like any other student. No more extra tutoring. No more dates." Dusty sounded defiant even though she didn't feel it. She got up from her desk, grabbing her backpack. "I appreciate all your help," she admitted, her demeanor breaking as her voice softened. "I owe you so much."
"You did it all yourself," Valentine noted. "I just wish you could see that and stop being ashamed of who you are."
"Goodbye, Ms. Quinn." Dusty was now at the door, one hand upon the handle. She pulled it open and propelled herself into the empty corridor before Valentine could see the flood of tears that had now engulfed her.