My Bully’s Dad: A Forbidden Romance Read online

  This is going to end badly.

  She pulls a sandwich out of her bag.

  “We wouldn’t want Miss Piggy to starve, now would we?” she exclaims as she whips the sandwich at my face, making demeaning hog sounds as she does. The sandwich literally slaps me. The bread bounces off my cheek to fall to the floor, and a slice of ham falls with an ugly splat onto the table.

  At first, I’m shocked. Did Sam really just do that? A hand reaches up to my cheek, and I feel a telltale smear of mayonnaise on my chin. My heart literally stops for a moment, and then begins pumping at a million miles a second.

  I look around the library, horrified to see just how many of my classmates are watching. My face feels like it is on fire. It must be a thousand degrees at least. Meanwhile, Rob is beside her, continuing to snort and oink like a pig between outbreaks of hysterical laughter. I reach up to wipe the stray mayonnaise from my cheek. Do not cry. Do not cry. Do not let this bitch see you cry.

  Mrs. Morrison, the librarian, pops up from behind the reception desk and begins to hurry across towards us. She instantly knows what has happened by just a quick once-over of the scene. This is not her first encounter with Samantha Nelson, after all.

  Mrs. Morrison puts a comforting hand on my shoulder, urging me to stay strong. A slight tremor runs through her fingers, and I realize just how old and frail she is. Her skin looks so thin I worry that her getting a paper cut while organizing the book return could cause her to suffer some serious damage.

  I should offer to come help her out sometime. I’m sure she could use the extra set of hands.

  But there’s fire in Mrs. Morrison’s withered frame.

  “Ms. Nelson, report to the principal’s office. NOW!!!” she hisses, waving her finger at Sam’s disgustingly cute little nose. Sam smirks again and whispers ‘whatever’ under her breath as she leisurely strolls away, clearly feeling no guilt for the public humiliation she just put me through. Her posse, three girls just as picture perfect as herself, begin to snigger as she leaves.

  “Come on sweetie,” Mrs. Morrison says, looking at me with sympathy in her eyes. As she leads me to the back of the library, I’m wondering if she ever had to deal with bullies like Sam and Rob when she was in high school. Probably not. Mrs. Morrison is a petite older woman, full of warmth and cheer.

  Who would ever be mean to someone like that?

  Once we’re in the back, she hands me a tissue and asks if I’m okay. I sniffle a bit, and the tears start to come.

  “I just don’t understand. I’m a nice girl, I swear! At least I think so. I would never treat someone like that. And what, because I don’t have the perfect body? I just don’t understand why people hate me because of my weight. I shouldn’t have to be skinny to be liked, it’s just not fair!”

  Mrs. Morrison clucks sympathetically.

  “You are right about one thing Tilly: it’s not fair and it is definitely not right. But please don’t let Sam and her gang make you feel bad about yourself. You are a beautiful young woman, so smart and so sweet. Anyone would be lucky to count you as their friend.”

  I sniffle more, wiping at my cheeks, and Mrs. Morrison continues.

  “Samantha Nelson is just a mean girl. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to reprimand her. I’m sorry this happened. Rest assured, Samantha will be dealt with. She most definitely will not get away with this. Now, you and Nicole go ahead to the rest room, wash your face with some cold water and then head on to your next class.”

  I sniffle again, trying to smile. God knows, splashing cold water on my face isn’t going to help. But what choice do I have? The bell rings, and with heavy shoulders, I leave the library.

  3

  Tilly

  School’s over for the day, and I can finally escape. It’s been tough going, and I almost cried three different times. But now, I can make my getaway.

  Still, my face is red as I get into my car. I could feel people staring as I walked the halls, and I could hear their whispers too:

  “Did you hear about the sandwich?”

  “I heard she had mayonnaise smeared all over her face.”

  “I heard she bawled her eyes out like a little baby after.”

  “You know, that’s what happens when you let yourself go. And she’s only eighteen!”

  When you get fat, is what they meant to say. They mean to say that this situation is all my fault because I “let myself go” and put on weight. I want to scream because that’s not how it is at all! Everyone in my family is larger-sized. I just have the genes of a plump person, and no amount of dieting will ever make me thin. Why can’t they see that?

  Slowly, I drive home while crying a little more. My nose is pink and my eyes swollen, but when I pull into the driveway, I try to clean myself up some. I don’t want my parents to see my tear-stained cheeks because they’ll be worried, and that’s the last thing I want.

  When I open the front door, Gertie and William are there waiting for me.

  “Hey Mom, hey Dad,” I say tentatively. “This is unexpected.”

  They look like a reflection of myself twenty-five years from now, with their chubby cheeks, round torsos and short legs. But Gertie and William are the nicest people, and they don’t let their weight get in the way of enjoying life. Plus, they look like parents, which is very reassuring. While Mom’s formerly luscious brown curls are now grey, Dad’s beard has already turned an almost opaque white in his ripe age. They look like Mr. and Mrs. Claus, come to think of it.

  “Hi Tills,” says my mom. She looks at me with worry. I try to pretend I don’t notice. I hang my backpack on the hallway coat rack, and grab an apple from the kitchen counter. I just know they’ve already heard about my day at school. I want more than anything to go hide under my covers and slip away into Anna and the French Kiss, but that hardly seems likely. I try to run up the stairs unnoticed.

  “Hey Tilly-Billy, can you come on in here for just a moment? Your father and I want to have a little chat with you,” my mom calls. Damn. Anna and the French Kiss will have to wait.

  I slump into the chair across the table from Dad, who looks quite uncomfortable. He’s sitting straight up and forward, tapping his fingertips together uneasily. That’s not the worst of it though. His face is red, and he looks like he wishes he could be somewhere else.

  Meanwhile, my mom, her eyes as big as can be, is sitting quietly, her kindly face filled with concern. It must tear her apart to know I’m being bullied, but I hope for the best. Maybe they have something totally unrelated to tell me? Maybe Aunt Bee in Indiana finally got out of rehab? Anything is possible when it comes to Auntie Bee.

  Unfortunately, no such luck.

  “Tilly, sweetheart, I just got off the phone with Principal Hartman. He told us about your little incident today with that Samantha Nelson girl. That was very, very rude of her. I just cannot believe anyone would treat you like that. Your father and I are so sorry that you had to deal with that today,” my mom says, her eyes tearing.

  I can feel my face begin to burn up again as I replay the scene in my mind. Who does Samantha think she is anyways? Does she know she’s made my mom cry?

  “Your father and I realize that maybe we haven’t set the best example health-wise, and that this incident was related to your weight. But you have to understand, we just don’t believe the value of a person lies in the shape of their body. And men and women of all different sizes are beautiful. If you are happy and comfortable the way you are… then baby, you just brush yourself off and forget all about this Little Miss Samantha. Because at the end of the day all that matters is how YOU feel.”

  Mom takes a moment to pause here. She breathes in and purses her lips, carefully deciding how to say what is coming next.

  “Now with that said, if you’re having issues at school and it’s making you want to try to lose a little weight, you should know we will always be here to help and encourage you. You know that your father and I love and support you. And it might be fun to get healthy as a family! How about that? We can start eating a little better, and maybe go on some family walks around the neighborhood.”

  “Um thanks,” I say in a trembling voice. “But I don’t think that’s necessary. It’s not that I don’t believe in a healthy lifestyle, it’s just that this is how we are, Mom and Dad. We’re round people. Even Aunt Bee and Uncle Edmond are round. We can’t help it.”

  My parents nod.

  “Yes, but sweetheart, we’re happy to get a family gym membership, if that’s what you want,” my dad says tentatively.

  I slam a hand down on the table.

  “No, that’s not what I want! We shouldn’t let some bitch bully us into feeling bad about how we look! And it’s not even about you guys! It’s about me. Samantha Nelson hates me, and those are just the cards I’ve been dealt. I have to figure how to deal with this on my own,” I say fiercely.

  My parents are shocked at my vehement reply, but they shake their heads.

  “No sweetheart, you don’t have to deal with this on your own. Principal Hartman thinks it would be best to have what he calls a ‘truth and reconciliation meeting’ at school later this week. He wants the three of us to meet with himself and the Nelsons to work this all out.”

  I can’t believe my ears.

  “ABSOLUTELY NOT! I don’t want to even face Samantha, much less have a heart to heart with her! What, do they think she’s going to change overnight? No, I refuse. I am not doing that.”

  My dad holds up a hand in a placating manner.

  “Tilly, I know it won’t be an easy thing to do, but I think Principal Hartman is right. This is something you girls need to work out. You’ll feel better about the whole thing after talking about it face-to-face.”

  Clearly, they don’t know Samantha Nelson. They don’t know that she’s evil to the core, and that nothing can change her. Mom sees that the look of horror has not yet dissipated from my face, and I’m sure she can see the tears beginning to well up behind my eyes as well.

  “You won’t be there alone, sweetheart. Your father and I will be there to mediate and to support you.”

  I shake my head furiously.

  “No, this stupid truth and reconciliation thing will only make things worse! Don’t you see?” I blurt out before I realize the words are even coming. “Sam will only use it as another reason to pick on me. Confronting her is not going to help. Involving my parents? Talking about how she made me feel? Can’t we just pretend this never happened and move on? I’m just going to ride out the next few months under the radar, graduate, and move on with my life. Shoot, if I have to, I’ll transfer to private school for the rest of senior year. I’m sure Nicole won’t mind transferring with me. She hates those girls just as much as I do.”

  Dad shoots me that look he gets whenever I get overly dramatic; his head is slightly tipped down, one eyebrow up, and his jaw is set. I can see he’s being as patient as possible with me, despite my irrational solution.

  “You can’t just hide from the things that make you uncomfortable, Tilly-Billy,” he says gently. “We will face this as a family. I promise we can handle this together, and things are going to be okay. You will not be transferring schools in the middle of your senior year.”

  I let out a sigh of defeat as a hot tear streams down my cheek. My mom and dad each take one of my hands in their own, and we form a loving circle. I sniffle because I’m lucky to have William and Gertie, but they just don’t get it. They don’t know what it’s like to live as a teenage pariah at a ritzy high school.

  Unfortunately, I want my parents to be happy, and nod slowly. If they want this truth and reconciliation meeting, then the least I can do is to grant their wish.

  4

  Mike

  “Come on Sam, let’s get going! We can’t be late for your meeting with Principal Hartman. We need to be in his office by 7:30,” I yell.

  My daughter is taking her sweet time getting ready this morning, so much so that it actually feels like an act of defiance – a sort of rebellion to her being forced to sit down and face the consequences of her actions. She actually woke up early and made pancakes this morning! From scratch. The girl never cooks, and I grit my teeth. Obviously, she’s trying to get on my good side before the shit hits the fan.

  “You don’t need any more make-up on your face. You go to school to learn, not to prance around like you’re in some sort of beauty pageant. Wrap it up and get down here.”

  “Five more minutes!” she shouts back, her voice muffled through the bathroom door.

  “I am going to start the car. You will have your butt in the passenger seat in two minutes, Samantha. Not a moment longer, do you hear me?”

  “Okay fine. Then stop talking to me and let me get my things together!” she screeches.

  I know I should say something at this disrespectful remark. To be completely honest though, I don’t have the energy. Being a single dad wears you down, and sometimes, it’s easier to let things slide. I angrily grab my mug of coffee and head out to start up the car.

  I’ve seen this day coming for some time now. I genuinely don’t know what to do. Ever since my ex and I broke up, Sam has just not been the same. Clearly, I’ve been too easy on my daughter; I suppose I’ve been feeling guilty. I keep thinking that if I could have made it work with Eva, Samantha would still have a mother.

  But was I supposed to stay in an unhappy marriage for another two years until Sam went to college? That certainly isn’t the example I want to set for my little girl. And anyways, how was I to know that Eva would completely abandon her daughter after we broke things off? What kind of woman can just cut ties with her flesh and blood?

  Unfortunately, we haven’t heard from Eva ever since that fateful day. At first, Sam didn’t believe it. I’d hear her perk up whenever a car rumbled by on the street, and more than once, I caught her writing an email to her mom. But Eva never responded, nor did she ever show. My ex-wife has disappeared, and my daughter has been crushed as a result.

  It’s left me with a huge problem, because raising a teenage girl is a mystery I have not yet solved. I’m never sure what exactly to say. When I try to talk to her, the words seem to go in one ear and out the other. Yet, I feel guilty. I know the divorce and Eva’s disappearance is the root cause of Sam’s bad behavior.

  Unfortunately, nastiness is never acceptable, and Sam’s hit a bump in the road now. We’ve been summoned to Principal Hartman’s office for what he calls a “truth and reconciliation” meeting with Sam’s victim, and it’s not going to be pretty. I can just imagine how that poor girl feels. My daughter can be a queen-sized bitch, and she was on the receiving end of it.

  And the girl’s parents! I can’t even begin to imagine they feel about this. I know I’d be furious, devastated, and humiliated for my daughter, had she been slapped in the face by a sandwich. Shit. I do not have the patience today to deal with what is coming my way. Today is going to be a rough one.

  Finally, my daughter makes an appearance. She opens the vehicle door and gets in, refusing to meet my eye, before crossing her arms rebelliously over her chest. I look at Sam in the passenger seat, that mean scowl engraved on her pretty face. Then, she sinks down to the bottom of the seat and props her feet up on the dashboard. I’ve told her not to sit like that. She’s always leaving her dirty footprints in my freshly detailed car, and besides, it’s such an unladylike position. I wish she had a strong female-figure in her life to tell her these things.

  Resigned, I start the car and pull out of the driveway. My daughter’s staring out the window, headphones on. This is most likely to make sure I don’t try to talk to her on the fifteen-minute drive to school. I remember when Sam was little, and car rides together were our favorite thing to do. We would drive down to check on my stores in the city, and sing songs together while playing road trip games. Her favorite was the one where we would count the number of out-of-state license plates we passed on the highway. There are a surprising number of tourists driving around the Windy City.

  I glance at my daughter from the corner of my eye and shake my head. I have so many fond memories. I remember one time when we saw an Alaskan plate and Sammie was so excited that she talked about it for weeks. She even told the cashier at the grocery store. She was telling the kind lady behind the counter that she saw a car yesterday that drove here from a land so far up north it was cold enough to have reindeer like Santa Claus does. I can hear the lady hooting and hollering to this day. She was so touched by the story that she gave Sam a free lollipop. The purity of that little girl got lost somewhere along the years, and I’m not sure how to bring her back. I know she’s stuck in that sullen teenager somewhere, but where? What do I do?

  I reach over and pull one of the headphones out of her ear as we pull into the parking lot. Her head snaps so fast that I actually have to stop myself from jerking out of surprise. That’s all I need, to let Sam think I’m scared of her now too.

  “Can’t you at least let me finish the car ride in peace, Dad?” she snarls. Clearly, she isn’t enthusiastic about this morning’s agenda either.

  “We’re here,” I say roughly. “Get out.”

  As we walk to Principal Hartman’s office, I take one last shot at telling Sam how to behave at the meeting.

  “You are to be attentive, pleasant, and respectful. You are going to listen to everything Mr. Hartman and the Mortensens have to say, without giving any attitude. Do you understand? You are to show remorse, and you are to apologize to that poor girl! I don’t want any lip from you at all.”

  Sam pretends not to hear, but I know she does. I continue.

  “I have a lot of work to get to, so this meeting needs to go as quickly and smoothly as possible. And then you and I are going to have a little meeting of our own when we get home today. Clear?”

  “Yes, Dad. Clear,” Sam answers me. I’m surprised that she even replied, to be honest.