Me: Heading into my meeting with Dr. Barnes. Wish me luck.
He’s in class, but that doesn’t stop him from replying immediately. I don’t expect it, but I have to admit it’s nice. Not because I want him at my beck and call, but because it’s comforting to know I’m a priority.
Brady: I’d wish you luck, but you don’t need it. You’ve got this.
I smile and slip the phone into my pocket.
If only I had his confidence…
When I get to the education department, the administrator waves me straight through to Dr. Barnes. Her office door is open and my heart damn near beats out of my chest as I knock to announce my presence.
“Ms. Reynolds, come in.” She gestures to the chairs opposite her desk and a sense of déjà vu sweeps over me. “I assume you’re here to talk about the letter of recommendation you requested?”
The question catches me off-guard, and I falter.
I’ve been so focused on the situation with Mike that I’d forgotten all about Barnes’ promise.
“Actually, there’s another matter I’d like to discuss with you.”
She folds her hands on the desk, waiting for me to continue.
“I—” My throat goes dry and my hands begin to shake.
I knew this would be hard, but I didn’t fully grasp just how difficult it would be to sit across the desk from Dr. Barnes’ and reveal all the details that could bring my world crashing down.
It’s not too late to bail…
I could walk away now and pretend none of it ever happened, but I couldn’t live with myself, knowing Mike was free to continue exploiting his students.
“I’ve been working as a camgirl to pay for my education.”
Nice lead up. Way to ease her into the conversation…
Pretty sure there’s no easy way to tell your advisor you’re a sex worker.
“I film adult content and stream it as part of a subscription service.”
Barnes’ lips go flat, but she remains silent, so I press on.
“Mike McConnell found out about my channel and threatened me with exposure.” I lift my chin. Cowering will only reinforce the stigma around sex work and I’m not here for that. “He blackmailed me and I paid ten thousand dollars for his silence because I was afraid of the impact on my future if anyone at the college, or even a prospective employer, found out.”
The professor’s face gives nothing away. “I see.”
That’s her response? No ‘That’s terrible,’ or ‘I’ll see he’s punished,’ or even ‘What were you thinking?’
“You realize this information could jeopardize your student teaching position?”
“Yes.” But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. “I don’t want to lose my spot, but I am aware of the school’s position.”
I’m careful to not say I respect or understand it since neither would be true.
“And yet,” Barnes says, drumming her fingers on the desktop. “You still scheduled this appointment. Why?”
Frustration wells up from the pit of my stomach, but I swallow it down.
Waverly’s policies are archaic and any school that refuses to hire a teacher because of what they do in their personal time probably isn’t a school I’d want to work for, anyway.
“I’m a damn good teacher,” I finally say, straightening my spine. “I deserve to finish my degree, but I couldn’t live with myself if I let a predator loose in the profession I love. If coming forward means I lose my student teaching position, so be it. I’ll find another way to fulfill my dream of helping children in need.”
