I don’t get it!
Not even close.
What the fuck was that, Lawrence?
How could you have done it?
And not told me!
I’m not even sure whether I’m more angry that you did it in the first place, or that you completely neglected to tell me about it.
Do you know how stupid you made me look? Patrick is one of my best friends. I’ve known him since he was eight years old. I know his sister! I know his parents! And you had to go report him and George to the principal? You are such a hypocrite, Lawrence. I’m not even joking.
It’s because they’re gay, isn’t it? I mean, George isn’t even a teacher. He’s a volunteer! And not a skeevy old man, like some people—he only graduated two years ago. And here you go acting like he’s some kind of sexual predator just because you saw them doing whatever. How is their sex life any of your business? Patrick’s a smart guy. He can make his own decisions.
And did you really think you could tell on another “teacher” without your virtue being called into question? It doesn’t even matter that we’ve never done anything wrong. People see the way I look at you, and see the way you look at me, and they draw their own conclusions.
I don’t get it. It doesn’t make any sense. People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, Lawrence. And without telling me! How do you think I felt when Christie told me she’d heard it from Ms. Pape? The fact that you filed a report against George made it all the way to London before it got back to me. Doesn’t that seem really messed up to you?
Or did you just not tell me because you knew I’d think it was a stupid idea? If you thought I’d try to talk you out of it, well, you’d have been right, my friend.
You’d better hope you make it out of this ordeal without losing your job, your wife, and your life.