A Step Toward Falling Read Online Free PDF Page B

understand,” I told her.
    In the week before our meeting with the disciplinary committee, Lucas and I didn’t speak at all. I wasn’t sure what he would say in his own defense, but I could have guessed: hundreds of people had come to watch a team he was part of. If I missed the second half kickoff, no one would notice; if he missed it, they would. I held a soda; he held a starting position on the defensive line.
    The morning of our meeting, I walked into the waiting room outside the principal’s office and Lucas was already there. I was with my parents, dressed in an outfit that felt ridiculous: a fair-isle sweater and wool skirt. Both items belonged to my mother. We’d had a fight that morning because I came downstairs wearing a black denim skirt and a long-sleeve T-shirt. “Absolutely not,” my mother had said. Sitting alone beside a potted plant, Lucas looked as if he’d given no thought to his clothes, which made me angry at my mother all over again.
    â€œWhy does it matter if I look innocent?” I’d screamed at her. “I’m not innocent. And they shouldn’t base their decision on what I’m wearing today!”
    This whole business had been especially hard on my parents, who felt bad about Belinda and also worried for my future. A few nights before the meeting, my mother came into my room and told me I should show the committee how sorry I was, but also tell them I was afraid for my safety. I didn’t disagree with what she was saying, but I disagreedwith the idea of walking into the meeting armed with an overly defensive list of excuses. What I did was inexcusable. I could have screamed NO! I could have rushed out to the crowd fifty feet away and yelled at the top of my lungs about what was happening. If I’d done any of those things, I would have changed the story. Belinda would still have been attacked, but instead of learning the brutal truth about violent people, she also would have learned that there are people in the world who will help her.
    As my parents got more anxious, I grew more dubious about mounting any defense. My father was afraid I might get suspended the same year I was sending off college applications.
    â€œMaybe I should be suspended,” I said when he brought it up for the second time.
    â€œEmily, please. I don’t see why the school should create more victims from this one dreadful incident. This is your whole future here.”
    â€œBut what about Belinda’s future? Why should mine matter more than hers?”
    â€œBelinda will have a different kind of future than you.”
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?”
    â€œShe’ll have supports in place. She’ll be taken care of. It’s different for you. You’ll be independent. You’ll need a college education to get a job.”
    â€œWhat if that’s what she wants too?” I knew Belinda well enough to know this wasn’t very likely—she spent most of her school day in the Life Skills room with a dozen other students with disabilities. I had no idea what Belinda wanted, I was only making the argument because I didn’tlike the way my parents had spent three days thinking only about me and my defense. I was guilty too. I should be punished.
    Then we got to the office and I saw in the way Lucas looked at me and then looked away. He thought the same thing—that if anyone was guilty, I was. Certainly not him. Not a football player with the responsibility of being part of an undefeated team. Not a guy who had a job that night. He said all this without any words. He said it in the way his arms were folded across his chest. In the way his feet were stuck out and crossed. Like if we weren’t called in soon, he might use this time to take a nap. That he had no parent with him only underscored his point: he’d done nothing wrong and had nothing to worry about.
    Only someone worried about her own guilt would come to a DC