Just Like This (Albin Academy #2) - Cole McCade Page 0,7
growled.
“And if you don’t like it,” Lachlan Walden replied without missing a beat, “you are free to find a job anywhere else.”
He swiveled away from the laptop to face them once more, steepling his fingers into points, staring at them with the unblinking gaze of a serpent over their tips.
“At Albin Academy, we are not like other schools,” he bit off—every word a drop of ice, frozen precision with razor edges. “The parents of the boys we teach have very exacting demands of us. Don’t damage their precious sons...and don’t let their precious sons damage their reputations. There is a reason hardly anyone has heard of this school, and we prefer to keep it that way in the interests of respecting parents’ privacy. That means if—” he folded his fingers back, leaving only one sharp index finger extended, but it sure as hell felt like a middle finger, “—you have a problem with one of the students, particularly one that could impact his eligibility to attend, you find me evidence that an infraction has been committed so that we can bring it to his parents. Please keep in mind that most of our parents send their children here to forget they exist. And they don’t take kindly to us reminding them without good reason.”
Rian stared at him. He didn’t know if the vile taste in the back of his throat was horror or disgust; he just knew he didn’t like it. “That’s terrible. It’s heartless.”
“On the contrary.” Lachlan lowered his hands to fold them atop the file folder once more. “It’s the kindest we can be, at times. Would you want to be reminded that you’re lost and forgotten? Would you want your caretakers contacting your parents about your problems at school, only to be reminded by their indifference that they simply do not care?”
Rian didn’t know why that hit so hard.
Why it hurt.
It wasn’t like he...but he...he just...
Oh, Rian. Dearest, must you fuss so over unimportant things? Can’t you just be happy with what you have?
He looked away, pressing his lips together fiercely to stop their sudden and unexpected trembling, a jolt of emotion that made his breaths catch hard in his throat; that voice echoing in his head wasn’t his, but he hated wondering how many of the boys here had heard something similar.
It was cruel. It was horrid.
It was what he’d signed on to when he came to work here. He knew that. He’d almost ended up attending here himself, and it had been his parents’ contacts that led him to the job opening. Because he knew someone who knew someone who knew someone. Couldn’t even do that much on his own.
That didn’t mean he liked having to stare it in the face.
What he wasn’t expecting, though, was Damon’s rumble of assent. “He’s right, Falwell.”
Rian lifted his head sharply, staring at Damon. “What?”
Damon looked at him strangely for several moments, dark brown eyes flickering, his jaw a hard lump—before his gaze shuttered over, and he looked away. “It’s a cruelty to remind these kids they’re not wanted. That they don’t belong. So if we’re gonna open that wound, we’d better do it for a good reason.”
“So what do you suggest we do?” Rian gasped out—only for Walden to cut in.
“I suggest you figure that out elsewhere,” he said. “Come to me when you have something. Stop counting young Mr. Northcote’s team attendance demerits for now, as some small mercy, until you are certain of what you’re dealing with. Until then, I have budget paperwork to approve and disciplinary records to review.” His eyes narrowed behind his glasses, pinning Rian like lancets. “And when I return to our suite tonight, I expect the paint pots to no longer be in the sink, Mr. Falwell.”
Rian winced. “Leaving. Right.”
“And cleaning the sink.”
“...and cleaning the sink,” Rian repeated.
And made his escape for the door.
He didn’t even stop to wait for Damon; he just slipped out of his seat, edged past the back of Damon’s chair, and ducked out the door. He didn’t want to be in that office anymore; despite the careful use of space, the moment he’d been punched in the chest with the realization of how callous the school’s mission was, the air in the room turned choking and the walls became crushing things, everything far too close. The furniture. Lachlan’s coldly indifferent stare.
And Damon Louis.
But Rian didn’t have much chance to escape from Damon, because the moment Rian ducked out into the hall...