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Love,
Cheyenne.
I show Addison and Serenity the entry, and both of them give me the same expression. Something about the way she writes about him sends chills up my spine. This man was obsessed with her, and the more I read after that, the more I see how toxic this situation was. Eventually, she mentions that she is leaving school and has told mom about him, but only a little.
She never told anyone how bad it was.
In the months following her leaving him, he began stalking her, threatening her, and showing up in the places where she was hanging out. She was terrified, I can hear it in her words, even though they’re only written. She was concerned about what this man was going to do.
Then she met Spike.
And him being in the picture seemed to have slowed the stalking down, but not entirely.
He threatened to kill Spike if she didn’t leave him.
Eventually, her entries stopped, so I’m assuming whoever this man was, finally decided to leave her alone.
Either that or her and Spike moved away, and he lost track of her.
I don’t know which, but I do know whoever this man is, he’s dangerous.
“She mentions him losing his career if people find out. Do you think he’s someone who was older than her?” Serenity asks.
I ponder her question.
It makes sense, of course, but I don’t understand how she met someone older than her while she was at school unless...
“Oh my gosh,” I whisper.
Both of them look at me.
“I’ve figured it out.”
Addison shakes her head, desperately. “Girl, speak.”
“It’s not a married man, or a powerful man. No, these girls were seeing a teacher.”
The room falls silent.
This is bad.
Really damn bad.
18 – Ciara
“Fuck,” Spike runs his hands through his hair as I explain to him what we’ve figured out. “That makes sense. Course it does. That’s how these girls are meeting him, how he’s been able to get into your room, it all makes sense.”
“The question now is, who the fuck is it?” Jackson mutters, bringing a cigarette to his lips.
“There are plenty of teachers in that school, at least twenty. It could be any one of them.” I say.
Addison purses her lips. “It would have to be a younger teacher, someone not too old but not fresh out of college either.”
I purse my lips, thinking about it. There are probably six younger teachers at that school that fit in the age range that would work for when Cheyenne was at the school.
“What about that male teacher you have?” Serenity asks.
“Gerard?” I say, then shake my head. “He doesn’t have a tattoo.”
