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I roll my eyes.
I hear the boy mutter, “But a hundred bucks would be nice too.”
“Your mom is dating Mr. Brady now, right?” the girl says. “Just admit that.”
“Yeah, so?” Mariah asks.
The kids know about me and Scarlett? Well…that’s okay, I guess.
“So, your mom and Mr. Brady were both gone this weekend. We know they were together,” Leah says. “We also know from the podcast that Prince Cian was in Louisiana. With the woman he’s seeing. He’s introducing her to the family. This is really serious. Just admit that your mom was never with the prince. That’s all we want.”
“Yeah. Admit it and we’ll forgive you,” the boy says. “But you have to admit it on camera, or come to our youth group meeting and admit it to the whole group in person.”
“What makes you think I care about youforgivingme?” Mariah asks. “This might shock you, Hunter, but I don’t care what you think of me at all.”
“Admit you lied, admit that your mom is sleeping with a guy she’s not married to, then come to church with us and everything will be fine,” Leah says.
“The chances of me doing any of those things is less than zero,” Mariah says.
“I don’t think you’re gonna like what’s going to happen if you don’t,” the boy says.
That is so fucking enough.
I step around the corner. “What is going on?”
The knot in my stomach tightens when I see that Mariah is backed up against the side of the school and there are five kids in a semi-circle around her, Leah at the center.
They all take a step back and I see the relief in Mariah’s eyes when she looks at me.
I have to force myself to stay where I’m standing and not stalk over, shove all those kids back, and pull her into my arms.
“Leah?” I ask. “What’s going on?”
She lifts her chin. “Nothing, Mr. Brady. We’re just talking to Mariah about a personal matter.”
“What would that be?” I ask, taking a few steps closer.
“Some things that aren’t aboutschool,” Leah tells me. “It’s after school and we’re outside so we don’t have to tell you. We’re fine.”
“It doesn’t matter where you are or what time it is,” I tell her. “This looks to me like five people are intimidating one person, and that’s not fine with me. You all need to go home.”
“We cantalkto her,” Leah says, her tone snotty. “We weren’t hurting her.” She looks at Mariah. “Were we, Mariah? You’re nothurt,are you?”
“You’re hurting myheadwith your constant babbling,” Mariah tells her, sounding more tired than angry as she leans against the wall behind her.
“Leah,” I say, proud that I actually sound calm. “I’ve had you in class for three days, and I know you’re extremely intelligent.”
She arches a brow, knowing there’s more to come.
“So I know that you know that you can’tforcesomeone to listen to you. You can’t make someone care about something. You can’t control what someone believes. You can talk to them. You can give them evidence. You can preach sermons. You can talk, cajole, even yell. But all you can do is tell people whatyouthink.” I take a breath. “And, if you have good reasons for what you think, if you’re passionate and if what you’re saying is compelling, then people will want to know more, and they’ll come to you.”
I glance at Mariah. “But nobody knows Mariah better than Mariah. She gets to choose what she thinks. If she says something wrong, that’s on her. That’s not your concern. If she insists that she’s right, that’s also on her.” Mariah is watching me and I can tell she’s okay.
I can’t put my finger exactly on what it is, but there is an air about her. A confidence. Something that goes deep. And I know that comes from her mom, her aunt, Greta, and I hope maybe me and Henry. All the people she’s met, all the people she will meet, who will believe in her.
“You’ve said your piece,” I tell Leah. “Now go home. And,” I add as an afterthought. “Maybe look up the definition, and consequences, of harassment. And slander while you’re at it. Because you might need to know those in the future.”
Amanda is right about Leah. If this girl turns her confidence and sense of righteousness to something good, she could make a huge difference in the world. Wouldn’t hurt for her to know there are boundaries that she can’t cross in her attempt to get her point across in the meantime.