That irritated me even more.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m some terrible mother because I work.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Nadine folded her arms.
“Tessa asked me not to tell you because she wants to explain it herself.”
“Then she can explain it tonight.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“Tomorrow matters to her.”
I laughed once, bitterly.
“This is ridiculous.”
Nadine looked directly at me.
“Then humor me. Be there at six.”
“I have a deadline.”
“Marla.”
Something in her voice made me stop.
“Be there this time.”
This time.
Two words.
And somehow they found every place in me I had been avoiding for years.
I thought of the winter concert I had watched through Nadine’s phone because I’d arrived after the last song.
The science fair where I showed up while teachers were folding tables.
The parent breakfast Eric attended alone because I had a meeting.
I hated that she was right enough to hurt me.
“Don’t make this about my job.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m making it about tomorrow night.”
I turned toward my car.
Behind me, Nadine said, “When you understand why she cut it, you’re going to wish you had been paying closer attention.”
I spun around.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
But she had already opened her door.
“Six o’clock, Marla.”
The next afternoon, I came home earlier than usual.
Tessa and Nadine were already leaving for school.
Tessa had replaced the sweatshirt with a knitted beanie pulled low over her ears.
I nearly called after her.
Then I noticed her backpack sitting beside the stairs.
“Tessa forgot her bag,” I muttered.
I picked it up, meaning to drive it over.
The zipper wasn’t completely closed, and when I lifted it, several notebooks shifted.
Something crumpled fell onto the floor.
A piece of lined paper.
I should have left it alone.
I know that now.
But after everything that had happened, I opened it.
There were only a few words written across the page.
Next time, I’ll make sure there’s nothing left to cut.
My hands went numb.
I read it again.
Then again.
Suddenly the haircut didn’t look like a choice anymore.
Had someone threatened Tessa?
Had something happened at school that she was too frightened to tell me?
Was that why she had cut her hair?
I grabbed my phone.
Before I could call Nadine, it rang.
My boss, Caroline.
“Marla, thank God. Jen went home sick, and we’re buried. I need you back here for a couple of hours.”
Normally, my answer would have been automatic.
Sure.
Of course.
I’m on my way.
In fact, I already had my purse in my hand.
Then I looked down at the note.
I thought about Tessa sitting on her bed, crying.
I thought about Nadine saying, Be there this time.
“I can’t,” I said.
Silence.
“What?”
“I can’t come back tonight.”
“Marla, this isn’t a good night to suddenly become unavailable.”
“My daughter has something at school.”
Another pause.
“You told me yesterday you’d finish the account.”
“I did finish it.”
“And now I need you here.”
“I can’t.”
Caroline exhaled sharply.
“You’re putting me in a very difficult position.”
I looked at Tessa’s backpack.
“I understand.”
“If you leave us hanging tonight, we’re going to have a serious conversation tomorrow.”
My stomach twisted.
But for once, I didn’t change my answer.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I still can’t come.”
I hung up before I lost my nerve.
At 5:52, I walked into the school auditorium.
The lights were already dimming.
I slipped into a seat near the back and searched the stage.
There she was.
Tessa stood in the second row wearing a white choir blouse.
Without the beanie, her new haircut looked even shorter under the stage lights.
But that wasn’t what caught my attention.
It was the girl beside her.
June Alvarez.
I knew June’s name.
Tessa had mentioned her plenty of times.
They had become friends earlier that year.
June’s hair had always been long and dark.
Now it was cropped almost exactly like Tessa’s.
My heartbeat slowed.
Something was wrong.
After the first song, the choir director moved toward the microphone.
“As many of you know, before each performance, a few students are invited to recognize someone who made a difference to them this semester.”
Tessa stepped forward.
I sat straighter.
Her hands were shaking.
She looked smaller than usual standing alone under the bright lights.
“My friend June didn’t want me to say anything,” she began.
June immediately covered her face.
A few people laughed softly, but Tessa didn’t.
“Some girls at school have been bothering her for a while.”
The room became quiet.
I felt my fingers close around the note inside my purse.
Tessa continued.
“Last week, they put gum in her hair.”
My stomach dropped.
“A lot of it.”
I looked at June.
Her eyes were fixed on the floor.
“They pushed it really deep near the top, so it couldn’t just be washed out.”
A murmur moved through the parents.
“June called me from the bathroom because she didn’t want to call her mom yet. She was crying.”
Tessa swallowed.
“I called my grandma.”
Nadine.
I turned and spotted her three rows ahead of me.
She didn’t look back.
“Grandma came to get us,” Tessa continued. “She took June to a salon. The stylist tried for a long time, but she finally said the only way to fix it was to cut most of her hair off.”
June was crying now.
So was I.
Tessa reached for June’s hand.
“June kept saying everyone was going to laugh when she came back to school.”
Her voice cracked.
“So I asked the stylist to cut mine too.”
My hand flew to my mouth.
Beside her, June shook her head and started crying harder.
Tessa gave a nervous little smile.
“I’ve had long hair almost my whole life. I really loved it.”
The auditorium was completely silent.
“But I love my friend more.”
That was when I broke.
Not quietly.
