Chapter 1

Mike O'Hara was a pretty typical Junior High teacher. He had been at it for ten years now and had seen the changes happening; some good, many bad. When he started teaching, most of the kids were interested in sex but way too naïve to do anything more than play Spin the Bottle or some quick necking behind the buildings after school.

Man, had that changed. The kids were between the ages of twelve and fifteen, grades seven through nine. The changes between those ages were dramatic. But even more dramatic was how the girls seemed to be maturing, no, he told himself, it wasn't seemed, they were maturing earlier than before. There were a million conjectures, from hormones in food, to sex in the media, to improved diet to global warming. None were very satisfactory or held up to real scientific scrutiny, which is why they were so popular on TV talk shows. Any crackpot was as believable as any other.

Mike had seen the girls in his classes get more mature and sexier right before his eyes. He read the studies; statistically it was likely that half the girls in school were already having sex. According to one study, one fifth of the ten year old girls are having sex. It was hard, he laughed to himself about the pun, for any normal man to keep his eyes to himself. He had actually gone to the local Catholic Church and asked the priests how they kept from getting in trouble. The older priest was quite blunt. It wasn't easy; it wasn't always possible. He had been told it was okay to look once, but that second look always got you in trouble. Mike tried to avoid that second look. It wasn't always easy.

A dedicated teacher, he cared about his students, more than he should sometimes. This was one of those times. Several weeks before, a bright, promising student had simply quit coming to class. Mike knew she had some trouble with her mother. He knew her address was a druggie and hooker hangout. But he knew this girl could make it out. She intuitively understood math. He had talked with her several times and asked her discerning questions that most students wouldn't have the slightest clue about. Cherry, the girl, struggled, but could think through things and reach an understanding. This was one to save.

That's why Mike was sitting in his car watching the seedy motel. He had been watching after school for several days. He had seen Cherry several times and with her had been younger boys. This afternoon, he had seen several boys from school meet with Cherry, then one of the boys would go into the motel with the girl. They were all seventh graders and he didn't know any names. He figured they were meeting for some kissing, from the way the boys outside were laughing and scratching.

Mike got out of his car and leisurely came up behind the boys until he was close enough to overhear. He stopped and slid next to a wall, behind a downspout.

"Tad's probably getting laid right now," one boy said. Mike's ears perked up at that.

"Best twenty bucks I ever spent," one said. The others agreed.

"I just wish Cherry would fuck me again. I mean, why only once per guy? Why only virgins? Shit, I need sex just as much as Tad," he complained.

Mike came up behind the boys, "Hello."

They spun around, recognized a teacher from school and got ready to run.

"I heard you guys. No use running away. You have to come to school tomorrow," Mike said. Their shoulders slumped in unison. "Okay, tell me the whole story."

They looked at each other. Knowing they were caught, one boy started in. Pretty soon, they were all contributing with their versions. Mike was appalled, but not overly surprised, knowing Cherry's mom. But it still didn't make sense. She had so much potential.

Tad emerged from the building and stopped, alarm on his face. Mike waived him over. He came slowly. "What room? Mike asked.

"Uh, 139."

"Okay, get out of here," Mike said. They took off down the street, not quite running, but moving fast.

Mike knocked on the door. Cherry opened it, wearing nothing but a robe and a smile. The smile turned to alarm when she saw him. "Mr. O'Hara. What are you doing here?"

"I talked to the boys, Cherry. Get cleaned up and dressed and meet me down at the park. I'll be by the swings." A whole series of emotions crossed her face, ending with a defiant look. "And Cherry, you really need to come talk to me or it will be the police." The look of defiance faded. She finally nodded. He smiled, "Good. See you in a few minutes."

Mike walked down to the park. It actually was a nice place in the daytime despite the neighborhood. He sat in one of the swings and tried to understand what he had learned. There was something not right. It kept drumming in his head...

Cherry showed up fifteen minutes later. "Hi, Mr. O'Hara," she said.

Mike looked over the girl, blonde, blue eyed; she looked like a typical eighth grader. She was wearing a tight top and a micro mini skirt to show off her nice legs. Mike was impressed and tried not to take that second look. She did have a nice pair on her chest, but then many of the girls did these days. "Have a seat," he said pointing to a swing. She sat down two swings away, but not the last one. Mike considered that a victory. "Okay, tell me why you're not in school? And don't try to kid me, Cherry. I talked to the boys and I know what's going on."

"I just didn't feel like coming anymore," she said defensively.

"Bullshit," he said smiling.

"God, Mr. O'Hara, swearing..."

He looked around, "Fits the neighborhood."

She nodded forlornly. "I guess so."

"Cherry, you were making it in school. You had the potential, then something happened..." Mike saw the emotions flit across her face, anger, blind madness. "That, right there. What were you thinking of?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said, her face turning pale. She had remembered the rape.

"Cherry, your face went from blind anger to deathly afraid. That's not nothing."

"I ain't afraid of that bastard," she spit out.

Gently, Mike asked, "What bastard?"

The softness of the question drained her anger and left just the hurt and pain. She began to sob. Mike saw her distress and wrapped her in his arms. The crying and sobbing continued. He consoled her, cooing gentle things until she was all cried out. When the sobbing slowed and she began to wipe the tears, Mike let her go. "Who?" he asked again.

"Hector Gutierrez," she said.

"I don't know the name," Mike said.

"He goes to Johnson High," she said.

"And he?" Mike asked though he dreaded the answer.

Tears again cascaded, "He raped me on my first date."

Mike held her again as she cried. After she had calmed down again, "Why the stuff with the boys? I would have thought that would be the last thing you'd want to do?"

She laughed, "Yeah, I guess I should have swore off sex or something. But I figured if I got virgins who were younger, then I could be the one in charge. I felt so helpless when Hector held me down and pulled my panties off. I couldn't fight him off. He was so big and strong. I couldn't do nothing."

"So with the boys you were in charge," Mike said. She nodded. "You should call the police."

She laughed. "What? It's been a month. And what are they going to do for a whore's daughter? Hector's dad is a fucking doctor. Who they gonna believe?"

Mike ignored the swearing, being more concerned with helping the girl. "Doctors have been guilty of rape," Mike argued.

"With 'nice' women maybe. Look, Mr. O'Hara. I know the police. They don't do anything to help whores. It's like they aren't people anymore. My mom's been beat up and the cops don't do shit, like she deserves being beat up. The cops help nice women, not whores or their daughters," Cherry said bitterly.

Mike ruminated, no police. The girl needed counseling and for that he needed to get her back in school. "I guess I understand."

Cherry pulled away angrily. "You don't understand anything."

He sat back. "Cherry, maybe I don't know what it's like to be raped. I'm a man, okay, but that doesn't make me unfeeling. I do know and understand some things. I know it hurts. And I feel your hurt even if it would be different for me. And I know you shouldn't be doing this. Dammit girl, I had such hopes for you. You know, you could get out of here. Make a great life for yourself. Have something really nice. Don't let Hector ruin your life. Get your butt back in school."