Thread of Truth, стр. 23

It was the opposite of what Gentry told me, which I found interesting.

“Was it a personal thing?” I asked.

Her cheeks reddened. “What is that supposed to mean?”

I held up a hand. “Sorry. Didn't mean for that to sound offensive. I just mean was there any animosity toward you on his part? Did he just not like the class? Full disclosure. I taught for a little bit, so I know that students sometimes just decide they don't like a teacher and just quit on the class. I don't mean that you did anything. I'm just asking if he disliked the class.”

She twisted one of the earrings, and I noticed her perfectly polished nails. “I'm not sure if he disliked me or the class. I really don't know the answer to that. I know that his performance in the class was not at the level it should've been, and I know that he didn't seek out any help to improve that performance.”

“Did he have friends in the class?”

“Not as far as I could tell,” she said. “He wasn't disruptive or anything like that.” She paused. “A lot of kids come here because it's their last real choice before things go pretty poorly. They put up a good front, but it ends up being not much more than that. They don't magically start caring about school. They get better at hiding the things they got caught for that landed them here. They do just enough to stay off of anyone's radar and get out of here.”

“Are you saying that's what Desmond was doing?”

She tapped a long fingernail against the desktop. “I'm saying I think he was doing enough to not draw attention here, but I'm not sure he'd cleaned up his life entirely.”

“But you told me you didn't really know him outside of class.”

“You were a teacher,” she reminded me. “You’re telling me that you didn't get a sense of your kids just from seeing them every day?”

She wasn't wrong. I did get what I thought was an accurate sense of the students in my room and I knew very few of them outside of the classroom. But I heard things and watched them interact and paid attention to what they wrote. It gave me an idea of who they might be and I did peg the ones I thought were just trying to get by. But I wasn't sure we were talking about the same things.

“Fair point,” I said. “So you're saying those opinions were just from interacting with him in class?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Can you give me an example of what made you think that?”

“A specific one?” She shook her head. “No, not really. But I know that other instructors here thought he was kind of a shining star and that just was never my experience with him.” She shrugged. “Maybe it was the subject matter of my class. I don't know. But my opinion of him was different.”

I nodded. I appreciated both her honesty and her perspective. “Anything else you can share with me about him?”

She stood from the desk. “I'm afraid not. I wish I had more. And I am sorry about what happened to him. I feel terrible for his parents.”

I took her cue and stood as well. “Yeah. Can I ask you one more thing?”

She raised her eyebrows and I took that as a yes.

“Did you know about his girlfriend?” I asked.

She fiddled with the earring again. “Yes. That she was pregnant, I assume you mean?”

I nodded.

“Yes,” she said. “I was aware of that situation. I might point to that as evidence that Desmond wasn't the person everyone thought he was.”

“How so?”

She tilted her head, as if I should've known the answer. “I'm not sure getting his girlfriend pregnant made the most sense for either him or her at this point in their lives. They were both here because they'd made mistakes and were getting a chance to learn better decision-making and how to make good choices that would point them in a better direction.” She paused. “I'm not sure that having a baby was an indicator of any of those things.”