Ignoring the imbecile next to me, I turned toward Grant, propping my elbows on my knees. “Grant? You want to tell me what went on today?” When he simply shrugged and refused to look at me, I looked over at Mrs. Ginsburg. She was rubbing her kid’s back, whispering encouragement. “Mrs. Ginsburg?” She didn’t answer either.
“Grant and Jeffrey were fighting in the lunch hall. They each claim the other started it, and the teachers on duty at lunch didn’t see what started the incident. However, two sophomore girls did say that Shawn was involved somehow, Mrs. Ginsburg.” Hughes cocked his head at the boy’s mother. “We need Shawn to talk to us, ma’am.”
“Stupid bitch.” Jeffrey’s mutter was more than apparent.
“Jeffrey!” Hughes barked out the word.
“Hey! You tell your kid to keep his trap shut.” I stood up, looming over Hastings, getting up close and personal. “You don’t let him talk to the kid’s mother like that.” I wasn’t surprised when the so-called father kept his lip zipped, but the kid gave me a malevolent glare.
Little Jeffy snarled at me. “I wasn’t talking to her.”
I looked over at Hughes, wondering what he was going to do about it.
“Jeffrey. You won’t speak like that in my office or in this school.” Sighing, the school administrator turned to Mrs. Ginsburg with something like sympathy on his face. “Shawn needs to speak up, Mrs. Ginsburg.”
Lifting one hand, Mrs. Ginsburg brushed the hair away from her kid’s face. “Shawn?” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “You have to answer Mr. Hughes.”
Slowly sitting up straight, Shawn let out a big sigh as he raised his head. I was surprised at how pretty he was, though it looked like he had a bruise along his jaw. I immediately felt sympathetic. That had to be hard on a teenage boy. I snuck a glance at my nephew, wondering if I had something else to worry about. Just what the hell was going on here?
When Shawn finally raised what turned out to be bright blue eyes, I looked a little closer. Wait a minute. Just wait one damned minute.
“Grant was trying to help me.”
The soft, soprano voice cinched it. Shawn wasn’t a boy at all. He was a she. I mean, she was a girl. Now I frowned at Grant. Okay, maybe I didn’t have to worry the kid was gay, but now I had to worry about him and girls?
“Jeff, he…” Shawn ducked her head again, biting her lip.
I could see Grant’s aborted movement, like he wanted to reach out to her. My eyebrows went up. Was the kid playing hero?
“Jeff and, um, some of the other guys from the football team were hassling me.” She lifted her gaze to Hughes for a few seconds. “They kind of do it a lot.” With a small shrug, she looked down at her hands. “Anyway, today, Grant told, um, Jeff to knock it off, to leave me alone.”
“Go on,” Hughes encouraged her. “And then what happened?”
“Um. He.” Her blue eyes flicked to Grant again. “I don’t know. Jeff shoved him; then Grant did something, and the next thing I knew, Jeff was on the floor.” For the first time, I saw a tiny smile on her face. It was fleeting, gone in a second, but it was there. “It was kind of cool. Like on TV.”
“Grant? Do you want to say something for yourself?”
I had to hand it to Hughes. He was being fair and straightforward. I bent forward, elbows again on my knees. I definitely wanted to hear this.
Grant gave another shrug. I’d learned really quickly he did that. A lot.
I nudged him with a finger. “You want to say something for yourself? Before you get sent home to do chores?”
The kid gave me a glare, which I figured was automatic at hearing the word “chores.” I motioned with my head, telling him to get on with it.
At first, he talked to his feet. “Well, um, I was just—”
“Look up,” I whispered.
He rolled his eyes but nonetheless directed his words to Hughes. “He”—he jerked a thumb at Jeffrey—“was doing what he always does. Trashing
“Grant and Jeffrey were fighting in the lunch hall. They each claim the other started it, and the teachers on duty at lunch didn’t see what started the incident. However, two sophomore girls did say that Shawn was involved somehow, Mrs. Ginsburg.” Hughes cocked his head at the boy’s mother. “We need Shawn to talk to us, ma’am.”
“Stupid bitch.” Jeffrey’s mutter was more than apparent.
“Jeffrey!” Hughes barked out the word.
“Hey! You tell your kid to keep his trap shut.” I stood up, looming over Hastings, getting up close and personal. “You don’t let him talk to the kid’s mother like that.” I wasn’t surprised when the so-called father kept his lip zipped, but the kid gave me a malevolent glare.
Little Jeffy snarled at me. “I wasn’t talking to her.”
I looked over at Hughes, wondering what he was going to do about it.
“Jeffrey. You won’t speak like that in my office or in this school.” Sighing, the school administrator turned to Mrs. Ginsburg with something like sympathy on his face. “Shawn needs to speak up, Mrs. Ginsburg.”
Lifting one hand, Mrs. Ginsburg brushed the hair away from her kid’s face. “Shawn?” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “You have to answer Mr. Hughes.”
Slowly sitting up straight, Shawn let out a big sigh as he raised his head. I was surprised at how pretty he was, though it looked like he had a bruise along his jaw. I immediately felt sympathetic. That had to be hard on a teenage boy. I snuck a glance at my nephew, wondering if I had something else to worry about. Just what the hell was going on here?
When Shawn finally raised what turned out to be bright blue eyes, I looked a little closer. Wait a minute. Just wait one damned minute.
“Grant was trying to help me.”
The soft, soprano voice cinched it. Shawn wasn’t a boy at all. He was a she. I mean, she was a girl. Now I frowned at Grant. Okay, maybe I didn’t have to worry the kid was gay, but now I had to worry about him and girls?
“Jeff, he…” Shawn ducked her head again, biting her lip.
I could see Grant’s aborted movement, like he wanted to reach out to her. My eyebrows went up. Was the kid playing hero?
“Jeff and, um, some of the other guys from the football team were hassling me.” She lifted her gaze to Hughes for a few seconds. “They kind of do it a lot.” With a small shrug, she looked down at her hands. “Anyway, today, Grant told, um, Jeff to knock it off, to leave me alone.”
“Go on,” Hughes encouraged her. “And then what happened?”
“Um. He.” Her blue eyes flicked to Grant again. “I don’t know. Jeff shoved him; then Grant did something, and the next thing I knew, Jeff was on the floor.” For the first time, I saw a tiny smile on her face. It was fleeting, gone in a second, but it was there. “It was kind of cool. Like on TV.”
“Grant? Do you want to say something for yourself?”
I had to hand it to Hughes. He was being fair and straightforward. I bent forward, elbows again on my knees. I definitely wanted to hear this.
Grant gave another shrug. I’d learned really quickly he did that. A lot.
I nudged him with a finger. “You want to say something for yourself? Before you get sent home to do chores?”
The kid gave me a glare, which I figured was automatic at hearing the word “chores.” I motioned with my head, telling him to get on with it.
At first, he talked to his feet. “Well, um, I was just—”
“Look up,” I whispered.
He rolled his eyes but nonetheless directed his words to Hughes. “He”—he jerked a thumb at Jeffrey—“was doing what he always does. Trashing
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