First Heartbreak

Genevieve is a rather interesting name for a young lady on the South Side. She is half white, half Hispanic, and one of two Hispanic students I have. She is very pretty although her face has a dirty complexion and some pimples. She is very quiet at first but has a great smile. A smile that briefly takes the stress out of life. Her arms are covered in bruises, and half her nails are broken or chewed off.

When I introduced myself I said that one of my hobbies was to write. She immediately handed me a stack of poems that she had written. They were very good, although all about how much she was in love with her boyfriend. But they flowed and were so sophisticated that her writing would stand out at any level.

She would always arrive early and leave late, checking in before and after school, before and after class. She always volunteered to answer questions. She challenged a girl to a fight because she wasn't listening to me.

I enjoyed her company. And knew that something was clearly wrong.

At first she did not talk to me about serious things. Then she told me that her mother had left her, and her dad was an alcoholic. He only spoke Spanish but insisted that she only speak English, so they never talked. She lived half the time with him, and half the time with her boyfriend.

I asked about the boyfriend but could get no more information.

Until one day she stayed after class and had tears in her eyes. She asked me if I could answer a question, since I was a guy. Her boyfriend had hit her and accused her of cheating on him. He was upset because she took a shower after school, which meant that she was having sex with other men.

Her question was: "Is it ok to take a shower before you see your boyfriend?"

She is 14. Her boyfriend is in his late 20s. We talked for a long time. She agreed with me and said she felt better.
She stopped talking to me after I contacted the social worker. I have not spoken with her again.