The Principal's Office (17 page)

Rachel remembered the young man leaving Rand’s office. There had been something a bit different about him, and he’d given Nathan a wide berth. “The boy who was just in here with you?”

Rand nodded, then spoke directly to her. “Wally. He’s autistic, but quite high-functioning. He’s also verbal. Some autistics are not.” Then he included them both in his gaze. “I don’t want this bullying to cause any setbacks for him.”

Gary thinned his lips. “Well, we’ll have a talk with Nathan. I’m glad to hear it isn’t something more serious, like cutting class or fighting.”

Rand leaned forward, spearing Gary with a look. “It’s extremely serious. Today at lunch”—his voice was deadly—“after running into Wally and knocking his tray to the floor, Nathan called him a stupid little retard who had his head up his ass.”

Rachel felt the blood drain out of her head. She heard the echo of Nathan in their kitchen, calling Principal Torvik a dickhead, and on the heels of it, she could actually hear her son saying those words in the same tone to that boy.

“I don’t believe it,” Gary said. “He would never do something like that. Whoever told you that was exaggerating.”

Rand stared him down a long moment. Then he said, ever so politely, “Please don’t be one of those parents who is part of the problem rather than the solution.”

Rachel jumped in, aghast that Gary was making things worse. “We
are
part of the solution, Principal Torvik. Have there been any other incidents?”

“Yes. He’s become involved with some sophomores on the JV basketball team.”

“He plays water polo,” Gary said.

“He wants to play basketball,” Rachel said. And he’d been hanging out with boys he thought could help him make the team.

“He’s gotten tight with them over the past few months. Picking on other students is some sort of test with them. Name-calling, shoving, pushing, vandalizing lockers, graffiti. I’ve had to discipline several of them.”

“Can’t you put a stop to
them
?” Gary asked. “They’re a bad influence on him. Maybe he’s not actually doing it, just standing there watching. An innocent bystander.”

“Nathan has been seen in the group, has done nothing to stop the behaviors, and though students have reported that he’s been involved before, this is the first time it was verifiable.”

Gary blustered, his face red, then asked, “Who heard him?”

“I did.”

Gary slapped his mouth shut. Rachel wanted to cry. How could Nathan say that to anyone, let alone a handicapped boy?

She thought about the kids Nathan was running with, some of whom already had their driver’s licenses, and probably cool cars, too. No wonder he’d wanted his permit. He was competing. She hated the way he was doing it, but she was sure this was all about looking big around his friends. Since starting back at work, she’d felt the pinch of being out of touch, of not knowing his friends, their families. That lack of involvement was coming home to roost.

“What do you suggest we do at this point”—she cut herself
off before calling him Rand—“Principal Torvik?”
Please, have all the answers for me.

“We need to address the root cause, Mrs. Delaney. You can ground him, try to keep him away from these so-called friends of his, but he already knows what he did was wrong. We need to know why, what’s going on in his head.”

She knew what was going on. It was the divorce, his dad dating a bimbo, a mother who wasn’t home anymore—out screwing the principal he despised, no less—his whole life changing, insecurity. And, to top it off, being a teenager.

“Shall we call Nathan in now?” Rand asked.

Rachel nodded. Gary grunted.

God, how was she supposed to fix it all?

HE’D EXPERIENCED THE MOMENTARY SHOCK OF RECOGNITION
, the initial
Oh shit
, then, just as quickly, it was over. Rand had wanted to smile. The law of attraction. Everything was part of a circle, and there were no coincidences. He’d found her in one area of his life, and she was bound to turn up in another. It was actually no surprise that she was Nathan’s mother. There was always more than one connection.

Nathan looked like her. Yes, his hair was brown, hers blond, but they had the same face, the same eyes, the same smile. At least when Nathan smiled, which he didn’t often do around Rand.

He felt her pain. There was nothing worse than not knowing what to do for your kid. Except not understanding why it had happened. He might not have children of his own, but he’d been an educator for close to twenty years, first as a science teacher, then moving into administration. He knew kids. Nathan’s problem was the divorce and not feeling like he fit in anywhere.

Rachel’s problem was the asshole ex-husband.

Gary Delaney was a small-minded man who couldn’t see beyond his own needs. He didn’t deserve a woman like Rachel. Thus, he’d lost her.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Nathan said with that same militant stare. Except that he focused on the edge of Rand’s desk, not meeting his mother’s eyes, not meeting Rand’s.

“We had this discussion earlier, Nathan,” Rand said. “We’re not having it again. This is a different discussion. I’m not going to suspend you. I’m going to let your parents handle the issue as they see fit this time.”

“Thank you. You can rest assured we’ll take care of it, Principal Torvik,” Rachel said.

Wrong time, wrong place, but later, he wanted to hear her say that in the bedroom when she was down on her knees. Or he was on his. He’d think about that when she called him tonight. Right now, he had other things to deal with. Like the ex.

Delaney clenched and unclenched his fists. “We’ll talk to him and draw our own conclusions.”

He’d expected that kind of reaction. Delaney wasn’t merely small-minded, he was a small man. If he admitted Nathan had a problem, he’d have to admit he’d fucked up by divorcing his gorgeous wife. Rachel hadn’t talked much about her marriage, but he’d read between the lines and realized the ex was at fault.

“Your parents understand that if I have to call them again, the measures I’ll be forced to take will be greater.”

Nathan merely stared sullenly at the same spot on the desk. Rand had explained Wally’s disability. But all most kids saw was that his jeans were too short and his clothes too tight as if he’d outgrown them, he never looked anyone in the eyes, he abhorred being touched, and he talked in threes, short sharp sentences, sometimes only one word, but always repeated three times. Something about the number three made him feel safe. The clothes did, too, like a child holding on to a security blanket. What kids
noticed was his strangeness. Nathan
still
didn’t understand, no matter how Rand described autism.

“If you want to come in and talk to me, Nathan, my door is always open,” Rand said.

The boy snorted.

“I can make an appointment with the school counselor, if you’d prefer.”

Nathan’s face reddened. “I don’t need a counselor.”

Rand didn’t practice magic. He couldn’t perform miracles. He’d had his eye on Nathan. He was a good kid; Rand felt that in his gut. Long ago, when he was Nathan’s age, he’d fallen in with a bad crowd. They’d smoked pot—and inhaled. Things may have gone from bad to worse if not for Mr. Lumberger, his math teacher. All it took was one adult who gave a damn about him. Rand strove to do the same thing for his students. When he saw a good kid on the brink, like Nathan, he didn’t let him fall over into the abyss without reaching out a hand to grab him. Mr. Lumberger was why he’d become a teacher; kids like Nathan and Wally were why his job had become his vocation.

He had, however, made some mistakes with Nathan, but he would keep offering his hand until he figured out what the boy really needed.

In the meantime, Nathan had Rachel. Even without his help, Rand believed she’d be enough to bring Nathan around. Unless the asshole ex-husband got in the way.

“I WANT TO TALK TO YOU
.”
GARY PARKED HIS CAR IN THE DRIVE AND
followed her into the garage. Nathan was already inside.

It had taken three tries on the remote to open the garage door. She’d changed the batteries, but something else was wrong, maybe the reader. Gary had still done nothing about it.

“I have to make dinner, Gary. What do you want?”

Hands jammed at his hips, legs spread, he blocked her way into the kitchen. “That guy’s got it out for Nathan for some reason.”

Gary wanted to take Nathan’s word that it was an accident, but Rachel believed Rand. Rephrase, she believed the principal. But would she have been so adamant if she wasn’t having sex with him? Who knew? “He has no reason to make up the story.”

“So you believe your son would pick on some retarded kid?” Gary said the word with a sneer.

“They’re mentally challenged, not
retarded
, and if Nathan felt backed into a corner by these new friends of his, he might take the line of least resistance and do what they tell him to.”

“That’s bullshit, Rachel. Have you even met these kids?”

“No, I haven’t. Have you?” she threw back at him, but guilt made her face flush.

“I have a mortgage to cover, Rachel, and I don’t get paid for the overtime I have to work.” Oh yeah, he just had to grind in that he’d gotten the short end of the settlement stick.

She covered her mouth. They weren’t fighting about helping Nathan. They’d turned this whole thing into being about
them
. “Gary, let me talk to Nathan. When we’re not with the principal, he might be more willing to open up.”

“Fine, talk to him. Let me know how
that
goes.” His tone was snide as he turned away.

She couldn’t let him go. “Has he been acting differently when he’s with you?”

“What do you mean? He’s perfectly normal.”

“I mean, like he’s upset or something. You know, about the divorce.” They’d talked about the effect of the divorce on the boys in the beginning, but since finalizing, that discussion was over.

“He’s fine when he’s at
my
place, Rachel.” He pointed a finger at her. “
This
is why you shouldn’t be out during the evenings,
doing schoolwork or anything else. The boys need your undivided attention.”

“At least I’m not pushing off some twenty-five-year-old bimbo on them.”

He narrowed his eyes. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? That I’m seeing someone.”

“What this is about is your son being called into the principal’s office, and we’re damn lucky he didn’t get suspended. It’s not about whether I go back to school.” Or who she was fucking, for that matter. God forbid Gary should ever learn that. “Just go home to your girlfriend, Gary.” Shit, she shouldn’t have said that, but he made her mad. She tried to push a little calm into her voice. “I’ll talk to Nathan, and I’ll call you in the morning.”

“This isn’t about Sherry. They like Sherry.”

It even sounded like a bimbo name, but Rachel didn’t say anything negative. “They think she’s nice,” she said reasonably.

He sneered. “Don’t you try turning them against her.”

“I’m not.” But she wanted to smack him for the snide attitude. He was the one who’d left. Maybe it was his own guilty conscience talking. “Now, I’m going in to make dinner.”

Gary grunted and stomped back to his car.

Why had everyone started fighting? They should be settling into their new lives now. Instead, they’d all started sniping at one another, her, Gary, the boys.

But the worst? Her son’s principal was also her lover.

“WHAT HAPPENED, NATHAN?”

“Oh, so now you ask me. But not in front of
him
,” he groused.

Nathan was being contrary; she
had
asked him before they even went into the principal’s office. Fighting over it, however, wasn’t productive. “I didn’t ask when the principal was present because I didn’t want to embarrass you by sounding like I was giving you the third degree.” Actually, at the time, she’d been incapable of saying anything for fear of saying the
wrong
thing.
Especially
in front of Rand. She didn’t want to look stupid or inadequate.

Dinner had been a silent affair. Even Justin had eventually stopped chattering. Afterward, Rachel did the dishes, left Justin to the remainder of his homework, and followed Nathan’s tracks to his room. She heard his voice on the phone when she knocked, but when she entered, he’d already hung up and was hunched at the computer.

Rachel sat on the end of his bed. “Would you please look at me while we talk?”

He toed his feet on the carpet to swivel around to her. “I didn’t see that kid. I knocked into him, and he dropped his tray. That’s all.” He glared at her.

She knew he’d rehearsed that lie. “Principal Torvik says you called the boy a name.” There was something about giving Rand the title that made her pulse flutter. Then again, it could simply be that he was her secret vice.

Nathan looked away. “I don’t remember what I said.”

She wouldn’t call him a liar. All she said was, “Nathan.”

He shrugged, strongly enough to toss his short hair. “I might have said
something
. Because I was pissed that he got right in front of me like that.”

“What did you say?”

His shoulders went up, down. He pressed his lips together, scowled. “I don’t know, it might not have been too nice, but it was in the heat of the moment, not a deliberate thing like that dickhead Torvik said.”

“You’re already in trouble for using demeaning names, so don’t make it worse.” She was sure he’d said what Rand claimed he had. “Calling people names is unacceptable. Especially people who are less fortunate.”

He made a face, hung his head. “I won’t do it again, Mom.”

Now he was simply placating her. “There have to be consequences, Nathan. You’re grounded this weekend. No going out with your friends.”

“But, Mom, there’s a game Friday night.”

“What game?”

“Basketball.” He cleared his throat. “You gotta watch the guys play and figure out how they work together and everything to get on the team.”

“Have I met any of these
guys
?” She knew she hadn’t; she’d been remiss. They were the bad influences Rand had mentioned.