Ms. Stocker ushers us into the office as soon as Mr. Croft hangs up the phone. The adults choose chairs close to the desk. Damian, Arissa, Jason, and I squeeze onto the sofa in the back.
“Mrs. Waters, Mr. & Mrs. Riven, thank you for coming,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
Felix sits on the edge of his chair like I did yesterday. “There is no way we would let the Jerichos be here as the only parents. Nor would we allow you to have Damian in here without us.”
Mr. Croft shifts in his seat and adjusts his sport coat. “I understand. Let me start by saying that I have suspended Becky for the rest of the week. She and her parents are aware that further incidents with your children could result in Becky being suspended to the school board due to the nature of the situation. I have talked to Sara’s teachers and they are to let me know if they hear about or witness anyone bullying Sara. We will not be taking this lightly.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Croft,” I pipe up. “But you were taking this very lightly yesterday when I came to talk to you.”
He shifts in his chair again. “Yes, well…” He works the knot on his tie back and forth.
“I am not happy about how you’ve handled this,” Dad states. “My daughter came to you for help and you dismissed her as if she was nothing more than a fly buzzing about. My wife had to call the school board to make sure something would happen. Now you’ve wasted our time this morning pretending like you’re the one taking care of everything.”
Mr. Croft’s face turned red. “I will not suffer this indignity, Mr. Jericho,” he says, flattening his hands on his desk.
“But it’s okay for Sara to suffer it because of your lackadaisical attitude?” Alana asks, interrupting the testosterone stand-off.
I’m used to Alana supporting me with smiles, hugs, encouragement, and being at my parents’ trials. This is the first time she’s defended me to someone else.
“I…I…“ Mr. Croft stumbles, flustered and unable to may eye contact.
“If you had taken care of this yesterday when Sara came in to talk to you, we wouldn’t be here,” Mom interjects. “Correct?”
“Yes,” he answers, staring at his hands.
“Mr. Croft, I appreciate the steps you’ve taken no matter what your motivation is,” I say, pushing myself to my feet, “but I think we need to get to class and our parents need to get to where they should be. I hope if I need to see you again, you’ll be more accommodating.”
“Yes, of course,” he answers, rising from his chair. “I apologize for wasting everyone’s time.”
Ms. Stocker hands us late passes as we file out of the office.
Jason walks me to class. “He’s such a blowhard,” he states.
“He was just trying to save face.”
“He completely blew you off yesterday and here you are defending him.”
“What good does it do if I stay angry at him?” The only good thing it ever did for me, was to keep me from lying down and accepting whatever was dished out in Foster Hell. But as Rose pointed out, it wasn’t me. “Mom may have had to call the board to light a fire under him, but he did something eventually.”
“True. Maybe Becky will finally leave us alone.”
“We can dream.”
“Oh, crap!” I duck behind Jason at the football game that night.
“What?” he asks, scanning the area we’re walking through. “Shit!”
“Yeah. Move. Quick.”
We move at a clipped pace, passing the opposing team’s cheerleaders with Jason between me and them. We reach the far end of the bleachers where Arissa and Hunter sit behind our parents and the Rivens. Mike is in his wheelchair next to the end of the bleachers. I settle between Hunter and Jason as Jason whispers to Dad.
Dad surveys the cheerleaders, then focuses on me. “Which one?”
“What?” Arissa realizes something is going on and looks over.
“Second row, last on the left,” I answer.
“I’ll keep my eye out,” he assures me, patting my knee.
“What are the odds?” Arissa wonders aloud.
“It was bound to happen sooner or later.” I shrug, hunching forward.
“What?” Hunter asks, looking in the same direction as the rest of us.
“My crazy ass sister,” I answer.
“Oh.” He studies the cheerleader. “Ohhh…” We bear enough of a resemblance that he recognizes her with ease.
“Yeah.”
“I still can’t believe she’s here,” Jason says.
“Victoria is like Simon and Tibby. She probably thinks she can get away with anything under the guise