Tina Kennard

I can’t believe she’s doing this for me. It shows once again what a great person she really is. What was I thinking, letting her go?

We probably sit there for half an hour when my mom comes out. She’s naturally very surprised to see Bette, and surely in that condition.

“What is this?” She asks me, looking from Bette to me, eyebrows arched. “How did you call her, Tina? I told you to give me your cellphone?”

“Tina didn’t call me,” Bette says. “I was on my way to the library when I found her like this. Mrs Kennard, I understand that you have to keep your kids under control, but I really don’t think this punishment will help. No offence, but I also don’t think you should slap your 17-year-old daughter for having a big mouth. That’s what teenagers do.”

Mom’s face becomes totally red. If it was me who’d say something like that, I’d get another slap. But it’s Bette, one of her students. Mom choses to avoid answering any of the things Bette has said.

“That doesn’t explain what you are doing, Bette.” She smiles weakly.

“I am merely supporting your daughter.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Must be about half an hour.”

Then Ken appears in the doorway, rubbing his neck, doing his best to keep his eyes open. He yawns and comes closer, looking at Bette as if she is some weird animal he has never seen.

“Bette?” He asks, confusion clear in his voice.

“No offence, but I would ask you to leave now,” my mom tells Bette kindly. Bette doesn’t give up.

“Well, I would rather stay until Tina can go inside. I’m her friend.”

“My friends wouldn’t do that for me,” Ken says, really not understanding what the hell is going on here.

“Mom wouldn’t punish you like that,” I can’t resist to speak my mind – it’s stronger than myself.

“Tina!”

“Mom!”

“Tina, don’t you dare -”

“Or what?”