Part 1
Chapter 1
Lacey
The drawing in front of me was brutal. Absolutely brutal. …
My son Dylan and I were sitting in his classroom with his teacher, Mrs. Griffin. All three of us were looking at the drawing Dylan had made of his classmate Benny, who had become a joke on paper.
In the drawing, Benny sat on a toilet, diarrhea splashing into the bowl. His large body was grotesquely exaggerated. More monster than human. Bloated and slimy like that slug-thing fromStar Wars. Benny held empty candy wrappers in his fists. Above his head, a speech bubble read: “Feed the beast.”
It was childish and cruel. And I had no doubt that it had already gone viral here at school.
“It’s … quite a drawing,” I said as I shifted in the plastic chair. We were sitting in a typical public high school classroom. The walls were plastered with art and math posters. Everything looked old and worn. Almost the same way it did when I went to this very same school about sixteen years ago. I was barely older than Dylan was now when I became pregnant with him. Everybody thought I would drop out or get an abortion. But I finished school in these rooms and proved them all wrong. Carried my belly like a badge of pride and determination. It was torture. And I came close to quitting many times. But, in the end, the bullying and jokes made me want Dylan and my diploma more than ever.
I looked at him as he sat next to me. Six feet two inches of sass. He’d become so handsome. Brown hair, a straight nose, and that athletic build. Girls already noticed him left and right.And even now, watching him sitting here getting scolded, I just loved him so much that it hurt.
“The whole school was laughing at Benny,” Mrs. Griffin said in a stern tone. Her eyes settled on Dylan, who avoided her stare.
“Benny’s parents are extremely angry about all this,” she added. “Pictures can carry powerful messages.”
She was right about that. And, at first, I sided with her. But then I realized who he’d drawn, and the lines between right and wrong blurred.
Benny wasn’t just anyone. He was the school bully.
Like out of a bad movie. And his parents acting like victims after all Benny had done to the other kids was one of the reasons Benny was such a piece of work in the first place.
I looked down at the drawing in front of me. It was incredibly realistic, and I had to swallow a laugh the moment I first saw it. Dylan had always been good at anything he did.
“Well.” I stood. Dylan and Mrs. Griffin rose too. “I see why Benny and his parents are upset about this. But Benny has been bullying Dylan and others for years. So this kinda looks like a cry for help from Dylan’s end. To survive Benny’s bullying. Is Benny’s bullying getting addressed by the teachers and his parents?”
Mrs. Griffin’s mouth tightened. “We … are working with the family. But that’s not the issue here. Today we asked you to come because of Dylan’s drawing.”
I was about to give her my two cents, when Mrs. Griffin added quickly, “Two wrongs don’t make a right. And it’s important we teach our kids that.”
I sighed. She had a point there. And arguing more about this didn’t help Dylan.
“Well, we have to go now. But Dylan will apologize to Benny. Right, Dylan?”
Dylan’s whole posture tensed in defiance. Mrs. Griffin noticed and crossed her arms in response.
“Right … Dylan?” I pressed.
Finally, Dylan rolled his eyes and exhaled. A teen’s way of saying,Fine, I give in, but under protest.
“That will be the right thing to do, Dylan,” Mrs. Griffin said.
“Thank you, Mrs. Griffin,” I said, and we left.
We walked past lockers and more art and didn’t speak until we were in the car.
“Why the hell do I have to apologize to him?” he snapped the moment the doors closed. “This is bullshit, Mom.”
“Is it?” I couldn’t keep my annoyance hidden any longer. Mrs. Griffin scolding us both kinda triggered the trauma of the few nasty teachers who tried to get me to quit school back then. Then Brian and the weekend also kept running through my head. We were supposed to leave for Zach and Amanda’s lake house tomorrow. But if Dylan decided to throw a big teenage tantrum, I would have to cancel the trip. There was no way I would push an angry teenager on my mom.
“Yes, it’s bullshit,” Dylan insisted. His blue eyes were steady on mine. “Benny is a bullying asshole. He literally put dog shit in Connor’s backpack. And he grabbed Anne’s butt last week in the hallway. Like some pedo piece of shit. I can’t just sit there and watch. I have to fight back. Make him the prey. Not the predator.”
“The teachers can handle Benny,” I said.
