An Excerpt from "The Teacher's Pet"

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 I am pleased to share an excerpt of my latest book, "The Teacher's Pet".  The book will be available soon. I ask that you read it with an open mind and reserve judgment. 

The whole thing still seemed so surreal. I walked down the hallway that afternoon accompanied by detectives of the Chicago Police Department. My secret was now out and the rumors that spread rapidly that morning were now confirmed.

I felt safe with the detectives that surrounded me as we waded through dozens of stunned and confused students. I couldn’t bear to look them in the eyes as they rushed off to find the closest person that they knew.

“See I told you so!! It’s true! He did get arrested !!!” I heard one student whisper.

I felt relieved that the detectives were protecting me. I wished that I could have hidden or made myself invisible, but the truth was now out. The thing that scared me the most was what would happen to me when the police left?

The bell rang as students scattered off to class. I wasn’t sure where Coach Jackson was at that moment, but at that point, I didn’t care. My future was much to hard for me to comprehend.

This too shall pass, rang over and over again in my mind.

“Can you show us where it happened?” the detective asked, snapping me out of my daydream. I nodded that I could and showed him the stairwell near the gym office. I choked back tears, as the detectives looked the area over. It was the first time I had seen the place since Friday afternoon...after the final incident. The only comforting feeling that I had was that I was never going to that place again. It was finally over.

The detectives asked me a few more questions before we walked down the now empty halls. The school was under strict supervision by the police. I was informed that the media had descended upon the school desperate for sound bites and more information.

One detective turned to me.

“How are your grades?”

“I’m an honor roll student. I’m practically involved in every school club and extracurricular activity here.” That answer seemed to shock him. He leaned down and got in my face.

“You’d better be telling me the truth Sonya.” I was taken aback. It was the first time that anyone had questioned my story since everything came out.

“Sir, if you don’t believe me, my name is on a bulletin board downstairs by the main office. I’m on the A/B Honor Roll. You can check the yearbook to see all the clubs I’m in as well. They’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

That detective looked at me for a moment before turning away. We continued down the hallway without another word being uttered. I’m sure when he left that day, he checked that bulletin board to see if I was telling the truth.

In the next few days I would learn that he wasn’t the only one that had openly expressed doubts. I don’t blame them though. The story was so crazy, I wouldn’t have believed me either.

That was the day that I officially lost my name. I was no longer Sonya Dickerson. Sonya had died a long time ago. I was forced to take on a new identity now, one that would follow me until this day. At the ten and twenty year high school reunions or whenever one would open up a yearbook to reminisce; my new identity became, “The Girl That Cried Raped”.