For All She Knows (Potomac Point #3) - Jamie Beck Page 0,10
the trash. “Besides, they won’t show up. Trust me.”
My alarms clanged again. “What’s that mean?”
Rowan wiped away his smug expression, but not in time for me to miss it. “They know it won’t be cool for anyone to take our money.”
Entitled—another of Dirk’s bad traits. Dang it, no matter how I modeled generosity, he was determined to be more like his father than me. “First of all, it’s not your money. It’s taxpayer money. Secondly, you’d better not encourage your teammates in that kind of BS. I thought you were friends with Carter.”
“He tutors me. We aren’t friends.”
A shame, really. If Rowan had stayed close with Carter, my son might’ve been a better student. “Well, you used to be friends.”
“When I was nine.” Rowan rolled his eyes. As if that were a million years ago. Then again, sometimes it felt like it was.
“He helps you, so you be nicer.” I mussed his hair. “Now come on and do your part tonight. I shouldn’t be the only one fighting this battle for you.”
By the time I hustled Rowan into the car, found a parking spot, and scrambled into the auditorium, the meeting had begun. Standing room only, with a row of board members at a long table on the stage. There were two mic stands near the front of the room, with lines formed behind each. Jillian Beckman, another football player’s mom, was currently voicing support for the budget while Rowan and I picked our way through the crowd. Along the way, I scanned the throng in the back, looking for Grace, but didn’t see her. Had she chickened out? That possibility produced mixed feelings.
“No one brought their kids,” he grumbled.
“It’s still a good civics lesson. You don’t have to talk, but stand where I can see you. I’m going to get in line,” I whispered.
Rowan stood along a wall, wedged between some parents he knew. I got in the line closest to me, which was when I noticed Grace waiting in the other one. Her eyes widened, most likely because she’d never seen me in this kind of getup. We smiled at each other, although she had to be strung tight. Public speaking was to Grace what discovering lice on a client’s head was to me—a horrible, awkward thing you hoped to avoid. Still, her discomfort might make her less persuasive, which would be a blessing for my side.
I shifted my attention to the front of the room. One board member poured herself water from a pitcher. The others glowered, doodling on notepads and shifting in their seats. Each of them clearly dreaded sitting through this community bicker fest. Two had kids who played sports for our school, so those votes were fairly certain, but a handful of unfamiliar faces reminded me of every principal I’d never liked.
Movement caught my attention. Grace stepped up to the mic, note cards in hand, perspiration beading above her lips. The scuff of shuffling feet, a stray cough, and pages of paper being folded broke the silence. My heart squirmed while she appeared to be dying inside. As much as I wanted to win, I didn’t want to see her fail. Finally, she cleared her throat.
“Good evening. Thank you for allowing us this t-time to speak on behalf of all taxpayers. My name is Grace Phillips, and I’m against the p-proposal to allot capital expenditures for improved athletic facilities rather than for upgrades to the academic facilities. Statistically, less than t-two percent of high school students go on to play Division I college sports, and only one in sixteen thousand high school students goes on to p-play professional sports. Conversely, every single student takes science and other STEM classes while in high school and college, and almost two-thirds of the thirty top-rated careers you’re supposed to be preparing students for are in the sciences, engineering, and big data fields.
“Every member of this community pays school t-taxes, so those funds should be used to benefit the majority of students instead of a small minority, especially when the booster club annually raises an average of seventy-five thousand dollars through its membership dues, annual gala, and other efforts that can be p-put toward better equipment and scoreboards and so on over time. Our high school’s statewide rank in education has dropped twenty spots since I moved to town. It’s been more than a decade since the high school’s science labs have been upgraded, despite the technological advances since then. Better academic results lead to higher school rankings,