wingman when it came to the school stuff, so I was kind of lost as I approached the big entrance.
I got stopped by a security guy when I walked in. “Hey, buddy, where’s the office?” After he checked my ID, he sent me up to the second floor.
I stuck my hat and gloves in my pockets, but I kept the ski coat itself closed. Self-consciously, I played with the zipper as I told the receptionist who I was. I was wearing my Shelton Motors work shirt and uniform pants, since I hadn’t been about to run home and change just to impress some principal guy. Now, though, I thought maybe I should have done that. The man walking toward me was all suited up—he even had a vest on. Shit, must be paying these principal types pretty well.
“Mr. Shelton? Thanks so much for coming in. I’m Jack Hughes.” His grip was firm. “Will you join me in my office? The other parents have just gotten here too.”
Other parents? What the hell was going on? I followed Hughes into the inner sanctum. We walked along a short hallway, and he led me to the office on the left. “May I take your coat?”
When I shook my head, he gestured toward the only empty seat in the room. On my side of the large desk, the five people already there had their heads cranked around to look at me.
Grant quickly ducked down, the expression on his face guilty as hell. I took the chair next to him, then ran my gaze over everyone else there. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is your kid attacked mine!” The big guy next to me held up a meaty finger. The buttons on his suit coat were looking a little strained as he jabbed that pointer my way.
I raised my brows, leaning my head back a hair. “Easy, fella. Why don’t you dial it down a notch and tell me what happened?” Grant wouldn’t acknowledge me when I said that, so I looked back at the Hulk, hoping he could enlighten me.
“I’m not going to dial it down. Your son’s a menace. He waited for Jeffrey in the cafeteria at lunchtime, and he attacked him.”
Since Jeffrey had a head start on being almost as big as his old man, I was finding that hard to believe. The kid looked like he could play for the Chicago Bears, for Christ’s sake. Well, okay, not the Bears—but definitely high school varsity.
“Mr. Hastings. I told you that I would get to the bottom of this. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to lead this discussion.” At least that shut the turd up. Hughes sounded calm, but his jaw was a little tight, and his cheeks were tinged a bit red. I wondered how much trouble Hastings had been giving the poor guy.
The other two people on our side of the desk sat beyond Hastings and son. A mousy-looking woman had an arm around what I guessed was her son. The boy looked smaller than Grant, but it was hard to tell while he was huddled under her arm. Messy black hair obscured his face, and I couldn’t get a good look at him at all.
“Hughes, what’s this all about? Why are we here? What has Grant done to get in trouble?” When Hastings looked like he was going to pop off again, I gave him the death stare. Like I said, I wasn’t the biggest guy around, but I had no problem standing up for myself. I’d learned that lesson all too well back in high school. The creeps picked on the ones who wouldn’t stand up for themselves. Well, not me. I became a brassy, smart-mouthed kid in sophomore year, and I never looked back.
Sighing, Hughes gestured toward the other parents. “Before you arrived, I was explaining the school’s policy on aggressive behavior to Mr. Hastings and Mrs. Ginsburg. We have a zero-tolerance rule, which means that Grant’s actions today have resulted in a suspension for him.”
“Hah! I guess so.” Hastings just couldn’t keep his piehole shut. I was tempted to backhand him a good one.
“ And Jeffrey will also be suspended.” Hughes looked faintly triumphant at that, I thought, and seemed to enjoy Hastings’s outraged sputtering.
“Just what the heck happened?”
I got stopped by a security guy when I walked in. “Hey, buddy, where’s the office?” After he checked my ID, he sent me up to the second floor.
I stuck my hat and gloves in my pockets, but I kept the ski coat itself closed. Self-consciously, I played with the zipper as I told the receptionist who I was. I was wearing my Shelton Motors work shirt and uniform pants, since I hadn’t been about to run home and change just to impress some principal guy. Now, though, I thought maybe I should have done that. The man walking toward me was all suited up—he even had a vest on. Shit, must be paying these principal types pretty well.
“Mr. Shelton? Thanks so much for coming in. I’m Jack Hughes.” His grip was firm. “Will you join me in my office? The other parents have just gotten here too.”
Other parents? What the hell was going on? I followed Hughes into the inner sanctum. We walked along a short hallway, and he led me to the office on the left. “May I take your coat?”
When I shook my head, he gestured toward the only empty seat in the room. On my side of the large desk, the five people already there had their heads cranked around to look at me.
Grant quickly ducked down, the expression on his face guilty as hell. I took the chair next to him, then ran my gaze over everyone else there. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is your kid attacked mine!” The big guy next to me held up a meaty finger. The buttons on his suit coat were looking a little strained as he jabbed that pointer my way.
I raised my brows, leaning my head back a hair. “Easy, fella. Why don’t you dial it down a notch and tell me what happened?” Grant wouldn’t acknowledge me when I said that, so I looked back at the Hulk, hoping he could enlighten me.
“I’m not going to dial it down. Your son’s a menace. He waited for Jeffrey in the cafeteria at lunchtime, and he attacked him.”
Since Jeffrey had a head start on being almost as big as his old man, I was finding that hard to believe. The kid looked like he could play for the Chicago Bears, for Christ’s sake. Well, okay, not the Bears—but definitely high school varsity.
“Mr. Hastings. I told you that I would get to the bottom of this. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to lead this discussion.” At least that shut the turd up. Hughes sounded calm, but his jaw was a little tight, and his cheeks were tinged a bit red. I wondered how much trouble Hastings had been giving the poor guy.
The other two people on our side of the desk sat beyond Hastings and son. A mousy-looking woman had an arm around what I guessed was her son. The boy looked smaller than Grant, but it was hard to tell while he was huddled under her arm. Messy black hair obscured his face, and I couldn’t get a good look at him at all.
“Hughes, what’s this all about? Why are we here? What has Grant done to get in trouble?” When Hastings looked like he was going to pop off again, I gave him the death stare. Like I said, I wasn’t the biggest guy around, but I had no problem standing up for myself. I’d learned that lesson all too well back in high school. The creeps picked on the ones who wouldn’t stand up for themselves. Well, not me. I became a brassy, smart-mouthed kid in sophomore year, and I never looked back.
Sighing, Hughes gestured toward the other parents. “Before you arrived, I was explaining the school’s policy on aggressive behavior to Mr. Hastings and Mrs. Ginsburg. We have a zero-tolerance rule, which means that Grant’s actions today have resulted in a suspension for him.”
“Hah! I guess so.” Hastings just couldn’t keep his piehole shut. I was tempted to backhand him a good one.
“ And Jeffrey will also be suspended.” Hughes looked faintly triumphant at that, I thought, and seemed to enjoy Hastings’s outraged sputtering.
“Just what the heck happened?”
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