My Daughter ‘Went to School’ Every Morning – Then Her Teacher Called and Said She’d Been Skipping for a Whole Week, So I Followed Her the Next Morning

Slowly, the window lowered.

“You have got to be kidding me!”

“Hey, Zoe, what are you doing—”

“Following you.” I braced my hands against the door. “What are you doing? Emily is supposed to be in school, and why on earth are you driving this? Where’s your Ford?”

“Well, I took it to the panel beater, but they didn’t—”

I sharply raised my hand. “Emily first. Why are you helping her cut school? You’re her father, Mark, you should know better.”

Emily leaned forward. “I asked him to, Mom. It wasn’t his idea.”

“But he still went along with it. What are you two up to?”

“Why are you helping her cut school?”

Mark raised his hands in a placating gesture. “She asked me to pick her up because she didn’t want to go—”

“That’s not how life works, Mark! You don’t just opt out of the ninth grade because you don’t feel like it.”

“It’s not like that.”

Emily clenched her jaw. “You don’t get it. I knew you wouldn’t.”

“Then make me get it, Emily. Talk to me.”

Mark looked at Emily. “You said we were going to be honest, Emmy. She’s your mom. She deserves to know.”

Mark raised his hands in a placating gesture.

Emily lowered her head.

“The other girls… They hate me. It’s not just one person. It’s all of them. They move their bags when I try to sit down. They whisper ‘try-hard’ every time I answer a question in English. In the gym, they act like I’m invisible. They won’t even pass me the ball.”

I felt a sudden, sharp pang in the center of my chest. “Why didn’t you tell me, Em?”

“Because I knew you’d march into the principal’s office and make a giant scene. Then they’d hate me even more for being a snitch.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Em?”

“She’s not wrong,” Mark added.

“So your solution was to facilitate a disappearance?” I asked him.