Damn Me

Cassie frowned as the strap from her new leather bag dug into the soft

skin of her shoulder. She shifted the bag with its buttery soft texture to her

other shoulder and walked through the doors of St. Thomas’s, a high school

known for its strict teaching and equally strict Lutheran principles.

Additionally, a graduation from St. Thomas’s would secure that Cassie’s

college Ivy League application would stand apart from the rest. Cassie

sighed heavily as she looked over her schedule of classes, there was a

handwritten note at the bottom of the schedule in cramped but neat writing

that requested her to report at the office before her first class. Contrary to

what her mother said, a shopping spree at Sak’s, did not make everything

alright, Cassie thought as she navigated the crowded halls, lined with rows

of stainless steel lockers adorned with a variety of padlocks.

St. Thomas’s school colors were navy blue and eggshell white, and these

colors were also present in the school emblem that featured a cross and

olive branch bearing dove. Cassie approached the large desk that dominated

the school’s office, a stern looking woman was seated behind the desk with

perfect posture and out of style shoulder pads, under a deep green jacket.

Peggy Standish looked over the top of her glasses as Cassie timidly stepped

up to the desk. Cassie passed her transfer papers and ID card to Peggy and

looked down at her hands as Peggy shuffled through the stack of papers from the last school Cassie had attended and then been subsequently

transferred out of. Peggy’s normally unsympathetic face, momentarily

dissolved into wearing a semblance of compassion when she read through

the reason for Cassie’s transfer. Peggy’s eyes flicked down quickly to

Cassie’s wrists, but they were covered with the long sleeves of Cassie’s new

designer cotton blouse. Peggy cleared her throat nervously, “if you would

like to take a seat, Mr. Samuelson will be right with you,” she said as she

pointed to the vinyl covered chairs that were lining a far wall. Cassie

nodded wordlessly and sat down in the last chair that was next to the water

cooler and its tired stack of plastic cups in their cellophane wrap.

Cassie tugged at a loose strand of thread on the cuff of her sleeve as she

waited to see St. Thomas’s guidance counselor. The carpet under Cassie’s

slip on shoes was autumn colored and surprising threadbare in places.

Cassie found this odd, considering the steep tuition that St. Thomas’s

gouged the student’s families for on a monthly basis. “Miss Grant?,” a low

voice called, breaking into Cassie’s thoughts and she looked up somewhat

startled at the owner of the voice.

Cassie noticed his shoes first, a glossy black, like a ravens pinfeathers,

laces drawn tight together in a neat bow. Her eyes trailed up his lower legs

and thighs that were encased in dark slacks. His shirt was tucked into the slacks and a simple belt was buckled in place. His shirt sleeves ended just

above his elbows and his forearms ended with smooth hands with their

groomed fingernails. A dull band of silver, was wrapped around the ring

finger of his left hand and Cassie finally let her eyes look at his face as he

smiled at her and then looked briefly at the file he held in his right hand, the

same file that Peggy had read earlier. “Good morning Miss Grant, I am Eli

Samuelson, the guidance counselor here at St. Thomas, would you please

come into my office?,” he asked gently, taking in her protectively hunched

shoulders and bare minimum eye contact before her eyes dropped back to

his shoes. She wondered as he spoke to her, if he had to polish his shoes

everyday to get a gleam like that.

Cassie stood slowly and shuffled into the office, he closed the door

behind them and pulled out a chair for her to sit, once they were inside his

tidy office. Cassie let her bag drop heavily to the floor as she sat in the plush

chair he offered and he took the office chair on the other side of the

sprawling oak desk that dominated his office. Eli shuffled some papers on

the surface of his desk, giving Cassie a chance to get comfortable. Cassie

glanced around his office as he made a few notations on some papers as her

eyes flicked briefly to the framed needle point on the wall. Her eyes alighted

on each stitched baby blue letter that spelled out, “Gather the flock onto Him.”

The letters were a pastel stain against the mustard yellow walls and

Cassie went back to tugging at the loose thread on her sleeve until Eli

addressed her in a conversational tone. “I see here, that you were at St.

Michael’s last semester,” Eli started easily, willing her to meet his eyes as

she stared down at her lap. Cassie remained silent in the wake of his

question, “Cassie?,“ Eli asked and added, “may I call you Cassie?,” trying to

get her to speak. Cassie nodded mutely and Eli glimpsed down at the notes

from her previous guidance counselor. The notes detailed a torrential

semester for the fifteen year old Cassie Grant, she had been subjected to

bullying from other classmates and despite having exemplary grades had

eventually attempted to kill herself in the middle of the semester.

Eli read the comprehensive account of Cassie’s attempted suicide and her

lengthy hospitalization. Cassie’s psychiatrist had recommended the transfer

to St. Thomas and discharged her with a myriad of prescription

pharmaceuticals and staunch adamancy for regular appointments with the

school guidance counselor. There was a Xerox copy of Cassie’s prescription

list attached to Dr. Winslow’s prognosis for Cassie. Eli watched as Cassie

ripped a loose thread free from her sleeve and let it fall to the floor. “Cassie,

I have read over your file as well as the notes that Dr. Winslow made,” Eli started and noticed that Cassie visibly flinched when he mentioned Dr.

Winslow. “I see that you are scheduled for biweekly visits with Dr. Winslow

on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s,” Eli said reading from her file as she moved

her focus to his framed degrees hanging on the opposite wall from the

framed needle point.

Eli watched her lips move as she silently read his awarded degrees, he

was more than genuinely surprised when she looked over at him and spoke

to him. “I am going to be late for class,” she said in a monotone voice,

glancing at the antique clock that chimed, announcing the start of the hour.

“Actually Cassie, based on Dr. Winslow’s recommendation, your first period

of classes has been changed from European history to meeting with me,” Eli

said gently. Cassie’s eyes widened slightly, “you mean I have to talk to you

every day?,” she said, cringing when she realized how whiny she sounded.

Eli nodded and leaned forward on his desk, steepling his fingers under his

chin, “at least until Dr. Winslow decides it ends,” Eli said solemnly.