anybody who’s not a jock.” He darted a sideways glance at me. “He’s kind of a dick.”
I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning. Jeffy had a pissed-off look on his face, while his old man was getting red again and rumbling low in the throat.
Hughes cleared his throat. I could have sworn I saw a smirk there for just a second.
“Anyway,” Grant continued, “he and his dumb-ass jock bros have been bugging Shawn since she came to school with that.” He gestured to his own jaw. “They kind of have it in for her anyway; I don’t know why.”
“He’s a liar!” Hastings had to restrain his kid, keeping Jeff in the chair. He couldn’t keep the punk from mouthing off though. “He went after me!”
I wanted to make sure Grant got his opportunity to tell the truth. “Is that true, Grant?”
My nephew looked at me, head-on, for the first time since I’d gotten there. “No.” He glared at Jeffrey. “Those pricks think that all their juiced-up muscles are gonna scare everybody else. And, and they were— he was getting all up in Shawn’s face. He even pushed her into the soda machine. He was at the right angle for me to use a roundhouse kick on him. So I did.” His hazel eyes met mine again. “What was I supposed to do? I’ve heard you and Gramps talking about when you were a kid. You got into fights.”
Great. My own history used against me. Not to mention the kid was talking like he’d been around my garage too long. “We’ll talk about that when we get home. And nice language, by the way.” I had to admit to being secretly thrilled he’d used his tae kwon do skills against the bullyboy.
Hastings and his kid were stewing in their seats, muttering, while Shawn was peeking at Grant from behind her hair again. Mrs. Ginsburg alternated between rubbing her daughter’s shoulder and darting frightened looks at the Hastings creeps. I was starting to get a picture of what life at the Ginsburg house must be like, and I didn’t care for it. That bruise on the kid’s face was telling its own story.
Hughes clasped his hands on his desk. “Well, Mr. Shelton, while I admire Grant’s determination to stand up for someone being victimized, I cannot reverse school board policy on violent behavior. My hands are tied in this instance. Because both Jeffrey and Grant were involved in this altercation, both of them are suspended from school for three days. They can return to school next Thursday.”
“What?” Hastings shot to his feet. “My son is the victim here. You can’t suspend him!” He favored us all with a ferocious scowl. “There’s no way Jeffrey should be treated the same as this…this…trailer trash!”
I arched my brows at the vice principal. “Do you think he means me?” I unzipped my jacket, sweeping the sides back, making sure my workingman shirt was on display.
While Hughes kept a straight face, I could see an answering gleam in his eyes. He got up, leaning forward, hands planted on the desktop. “Mr. Hastings, I advise you to counsel your son on his aggressive tendencies.”
The punk father pulled the punk son to his feet. “Let’s go, Jeff. I’ve heard enough.”
Jeffrey sneered as he stood. “Stupid Jew bitch.” His creepy gaze rested on Shawn’s lowered head. I wanted so badly to deck the little prick.
“Make that a five-day suspension, Hastings.” Hughes came around the desk. He walked to the door and yanked it open. “Now I’d appreciate it if you’d get out of my office.”
In the car going home, Grant fiddled with the radio. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. “You want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know.” Loud hip-hop blasted out of the speakers.
If my dad had put up with this kind of refusal to talk when I was Grant’s age, I didn’t know how he hadn’t killed me. I dialed the music down a hair. “If you’re going to blast it, will you at least play some Pitbull?”
“ You like Pitbull?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I listen to
I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning. Jeffy had a pissed-off look on his face, while his old man was getting red again and rumbling low in the throat.
Hughes cleared his throat. I could have sworn I saw a smirk there for just a second.
“Anyway,” Grant continued, “he and his dumb-ass jock bros have been bugging Shawn since she came to school with that.” He gestured to his own jaw. “They kind of have it in for her anyway; I don’t know why.”
“He’s a liar!” Hastings had to restrain his kid, keeping Jeff in the chair. He couldn’t keep the punk from mouthing off though. “He went after me!”
I wanted to make sure Grant got his opportunity to tell the truth. “Is that true, Grant?”
My nephew looked at me, head-on, for the first time since I’d gotten there. “No.” He glared at Jeffrey. “Those pricks think that all their juiced-up muscles are gonna scare everybody else. And, and they were— he was getting all up in Shawn’s face. He even pushed her into the soda machine. He was at the right angle for me to use a roundhouse kick on him. So I did.” His hazel eyes met mine again. “What was I supposed to do? I’ve heard you and Gramps talking about when you were a kid. You got into fights.”
Great. My own history used against me. Not to mention the kid was talking like he’d been around my garage too long. “We’ll talk about that when we get home. And nice language, by the way.” I had to admit to being secretly thrilled he’d used his tae kwon do skills against the bullyboy.
Hastings and his kid were stewing in their seats, muttering, while Shawn was peeking at Grant from behind her hair again. Mrs. Ginsburg alternated between rubbing her daughter’s shoulder and darting frightened looks at the Hastings creeps. I was starting to get a picture of what life at the Ginsburg house must be like, and I didn’t care for it. That bruise on the kid’s face was telling its own story.
Hughes clasped his hands on his desk. “Well, Mr. Shelton, while I admire Grant’s determination to stand up for someone being victimized, I cannot reverse school board policy on violent behavior. My hands are tied in this instance. Because both Jeffrey and Grant were involved in this altercation, both of them are suspended from school for three days. They can return to school next Thursday.”
“What?” Hastings shot to his feet. “My son is the victim here. You can’t suspend him!” He favored us all with a ferocious scowl. “There’s no way Jeffrey should be treated the same as this…this…trailer trash!”
I arched my brows at the vice principal. “Do you think he means me?” I unzipped my jacket, sweeping the sides back, making sure my workingman shirt was on display.
While Hughes kept a straight face, I could see an answering gleam in his eyes. He got up, leaning forward, hands planted on the desktop. “Mr. Hastings, I advise you to counsel your son on his aggressive tendencies.”
The punk father pulled the punk son to his feet. “Let’s go, Jeff. I’ve heard enough.”
Jeffrey sneered as he stood. “Stupid Jew bitch.” His creepy gaze rested on Shawn’s lowered head. I wanted so badly to deck the little prick.
“Make that a five-day suspension, Hastings.” Hughes came around the desk. He walked to the door and yanked it open. “Now I’d appreciate it if you’d get out of my office.”
In the car going home, Grant fiddled with the radio. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. “You want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know.” Loud hip-hop blasted out of the speakers.
If my dad had put up with this kind of refusal to talk when I was Grant’s age, I didn’t know how he hadn’t killed me. I dialed the music down a hair. “If you’re going to blast it, will you at least play some Pitbull?”
“ You like Pitbull?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I listen to
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