Chapter 22

I’d spent a lot of time over the last week working on Willie’s last song, trying to nail down the sound of it. Even a week after his funeral, it was nice to have this little piece of connection with him. The problem was, Willie and I had very different voices, and it felt wrong trying to finish this just by emulating what he did. I wanted to find a way to make it my own while still honoring him, and it was proving to be quite the challenge.

Which, in and of itself, was enjoyable and a nice way to spend my Sunday morning. As with every weekend, I had a busy day in front of me. I had band practice, followed by training with Chef at the Blue Ridge and our gig that night, so it was nice to have a little bit of quiet before things got started.

Or at least, it had been quiet. I had about two seconds of warning, with the sound of pounding footsteps coming down the hall, that my quiet time was going to change. My door suddenly burst open, slamming into the wall with a crash that made me jump.

Hanna’s mom stood in the doorway, face flushed, practically boiling over as she demanded, “Charlie, did you know about this?”

She was usually so composed that I was almost more surprised by her fury than I was by the door banging open.

Setting my guitar down, I asked, “Know about what?”

“About Hanna and that ... that professor!”

She spat the last word like a curse.

Hanna had taken me seriously and told her. I hadn’t been bluffing and was going to give her till the end of the day before I said something and was glad I didn’t have to. I hadn’t expected this reaction, however, and was a little off-kilter as a result.

“Umm ... yeah,” I hesitantly admitted. “I found out about a month ago. Hanna didn’t want me to say anything, but I told her she had to tell you herself by this weekend or I would. It’s what that fight we had after Willie’s funeral was about.”

Mrs. Phillips’ face turned an even deeper shade of red. “She’s been dating her professor for a month and you knew?!”

Her voice rose to a near shriek.

I held up my hands defensively, “I’m sorry; I know I shouldn’t have kept it from you but I was trying to give Hanna a chance to handle it herself. I thought she’d listen to me. Clearly, that was a mistake.”

“You’re darn right it was a mistake!” Mrs. Phillips exploded. “That ... that predator has been taking advantage of my daughter and ... I can’t believe this.”

“I did try to get her to end it, I swear. I told her it was wrong and she could get expelled if anyone found out.”

“Get expelled? That’s the least of what could happen. These men ... they’re just out there, preying on kids, and they get away with it. Her brain isn’t ... I ... he...”

She was shaking with rage, to the point where she wasn’t even able to form a coherent sentence by the end of the rant.

“I know, and I agree. But Hanna’s an adult, and she’s going to do what she wants to do. I mean, we saw that with Troy, although this is ten times worse.”

“There are rules against this. There has to be. If they don’t fire him, I’m going to sue that damn school for every penny they’re worth for letting this predator near students!”

I held up my hands again, trying to calm her down, “I know you’re upset, but I think you need to take a breath here before you do anything rash.”

She scowled at me. “Rash? This predator has been taking advantage of my daughter! I’m not going to just sit here and do nothing!”

“I understand, believe me. But going nuclear right off the bat might not be the best move.”

“Oh? And why is that?” she said, putting her hands on her hips and turning her anger on me again.

I hesitated. I didn’t actually want to put myself in the middle of this, which is why I wanted Hanna to be the one to talk to her mom instead of me. And yet, here I was.

Choosing my words carefully, I said, “Well, for starters, there’s no guarantee the professor would actually get fired. Without solid proof, it could end up being your word against his and Hanna’s. She thinks she loves him, so you know she’ll back him up. We saw that with Troy. And even if he did get fired, he might not go quietly. Someone like him, he could try to retaliate if he thinks his career is being ruined.”

Mrs. Phillips started to interject, but I pushed on.

“It’s not just that a professor is dating a student, it’s also that a student is dating her professor. The college will frown on both of them, and that’s the kind of label that can follow someone the rest of their lives. Plus, there’s Hanna to consider. If you go in guns blazing, it’s going to damage your relationship with her pretty badly. She’s already mad at me for making her tell you the truth. If you don’t handle this right, you could lose any trust she has in you. That’s the last thing you want when she’s in a vulnerable position.”

I paused, letting that sink in. Mrs. Phillips was still fuming, but she seemed to be listening.

“I’m not saying you should do nothing. But, in the end, she’s the only one who can decide if she still wants to date him. Well, her and Professor Cross. Getting in between them will only cause her to blame you for the relationship not working out, instead of realizing what a scumbag he is when he inevitably ends it. We both know this is going to end, eventually. A guy who dates his students isn’t the kind of guy to build long-term relationships with them. If we burn our bridges with Hanna now, we won’t be able to be there for her when things fall apart.”

Mrs. Phillips stared at me for a long moment, still visibly furious, but her posture relaxed ever so slightly as I continued.

“I know you just want to protect Hanna,” I said gently. “That’s what we all want, here. But if we’re smart about this, maybe we can get this guy removed without things blowing up, and without it hurting Hanna more than she’s going to inevitably be hurt anyway.”

Mrs. Phillips was silent for a long moment as she processed what I’d said. I could see the gears turning in her head. Finally, she let out an aggravated sigh and her posture deflated slightly.

“It’s infuriating when you’re reasonable,” she said reluctantly.

“Trust me; I don’t like it any more than you do. I wanted to be the one screaming and tearing everything down, too, but ... I mostly just want Hanna to be okay. And I’m not suggesting we do nothing. Just ... that we be smart about how we handle this.”

Mrs. Phillips started pacing back and forth, shaking her head, “I just can’t believe this. That my little girl would get herself into such a mess. And with her professor of all people!”

“I know,” I said. “Believe me; I was just as shocked when I found out.”

“How could she be so stupid? She knows better than this!”

“She does,” I agreed. “But sometimes, when emotions get involved, logic goes out the window. Especially for someone Hanna’s age. I mean, speaking as a teen myself, we’re a little unhinged.”

Mrs. Phillips sighed heavily, then added, “I guess. Still, that’s no excuse for such appalling judgment on her part. Or on his! She’s just a child compared to him. Fine. Fine. I won’t do anything rash. Sorry about yelling at you; I know this isn’t your fault. I just got so mad...”

“No problem. Happy to be a punching bag,” I said, giving her a smile.

“Well, I suppose there’s nothing to be done right now except have a very serious talk with Hanna about appropriate relationships and judgment.”

“Good luck with that. For what it’s worth, I really was going to tell you today if she didn’t. I gave her a deadline because I didn’t want to break her trust, but I wasn’t about to just let this continue without you knowing.”

She nodded. “I appreciate you looking out for Hanna. I just wish she had come to me herself.”

I just shrugged. What could I say?

“All right, I’m done with my tirade. You go back to your music,” she said, giving me a tired smile and pulling my door closed much more softly than she’d opened it.

That could have gone a lot worse. I was a little worried that she might call the school once Hanna told her, which would almost certainly get Hanna kicked out, or at least pressured not to come back. Hanna and her mom usually had a great relationship, and I’d hoped there was a way to salvage this without ruining that. At least now it was out in the open.

So much for my quiet morning.

Thursday, I was back in the principal’s office, but at least this time, it was of my own volition. He’d given me tentative permission after the audition to go to Hollywood and miss a week and a half of school, but he’d couched it with enough qualifiers I felt like the rug could still be pulled out from under me.

He’d told me to come back on the last day before I was supposed to leave to see if I’d managed to keep my grades where they needed to be and meet whatever expectations my teachers had of how I needed to prepare to be gone. While I thought I’d done everything and there shouldn’t be any problems, I’d decided to come in one day early, to give myself a little room should the unexpected happen. If I’d waited until after school Friday and he’d told me no, I couldn’t go, I’d basically have three hours to try and work something out with the production company or figure out what I was going to do. This way, I’d at least have an entire day to fix it. Considering how my luck had been over the past few years, I wanted to be prepared for the worst.

Unfortunately, I’d caught him off guard. He’d been really prepared the other times I’d been summoned to his office, but he clearly hadn’t been ready for me to jump the gun, which left me sitting in one of the chairs across his desk, watching him flip through a stack of papers as he ‘took a quick peek to make sure he knew where everything was.’ I took that as principal-ese for ‘I haven’t even looked into this yet, so wait while I figure out what’s going on.’

Finally, he set the papers down and folded his hands on top of them, which seemed to be his trademark ‘I’m getting real with you, fellow human’ posture.