Best Behavior

by Wendy Francis

“Oh, I’m sure it happens from time to time,” his nana chimes in. “Maybe we should proceed to the dean’s office and get it sorted out?”

  “Sure,” Cody says. “Just one sec, though.” Out of the corner of his eye, he has spotted Brad, and Cody sidles over to Brad’s family, accepting their congratulations as graciously as he can. His heart, though, is full-out racing.

  “Brad, man, did you get your diploma?” he asks, pulling him aside.

  “Yeah. Why? What do you mean?”

  “Mine wasn’t in my envelope. Just a note saying that I should check in with the dean’s office.”

  “Oh, shit.” Brad’s eyes widen in alarm. “The frogs? Do you think they’re gonna nail us?”

  Cody shrugs. He so badly wants to play it cool, but if he’s screwed things up with the frog incursion, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever forgive himself. The diploma should be his for the taking! He’s given Bolton College their best years of football in recent memory, not to mention graduating at the top of his class. “Apparently, not you,” he tells Brad.

  “Hey, let me know what happens, okay? I’m your wingman, if you need me.”

  “Thanks, dude.” Cody isn’t sure if he means he’ll cover for him, take the blame or at least partial blame, if it comes to that, but frankly he’d rather not test his friend’s loyalty right now. He trots back to his own family, who waits expectantly, his dad’s arms crossed and his mother’s mouth pulled into a tight, uncertain smile.

  “Okay, ready,” he says. “Let’s go.”

  TWELVE

  Maybe it is something trivial, Cody thinks as they start walking, like the college never logged his final tuition payment into the computer. Maybe this has nothing to do with the frogs. Or that other thing. On their way to the dean’s office, some random woman stops his stepdad to say hello, as if they’re best buddies.

  “Joel! Hi, again. I wanted to introduce you to my daughter, Cassie. And my partner, Ruby.”

  “Oh, Kat! I was wondering if I’d bump into you again. Nice to meet you, Cassie. Congratulations.” Cody watches his stepdad shake hands with a slightly plump girl with a head of thick red curls, her diploma clasped in her hand. “And you, Ruby.” It dawns on him that this Kat person and Ruby are a couple, as in married. He glances at their ring fingers, and sure enough, they’re both sporting plain gold wedding bands. Ruby’s dark hair is cut in a pixie, and a stud diamond earring sparkles in her nose. She’s pretty in a harsh way, Cody thinks, with sharp cheekbones, deeply set hazel eyes. Weirdly, she seems to be sizing up his stepdad.

  “And I should introduce you to my family. Kat, this is my wife, Meredith, and my stepkids, Dawn and Cody. And my mother-in-law, Carol.” It’s pretty obvious that Joel has no intention of introducing Roger or anyone in his family, even though they hover awkwardly on the sidelines of the conversation.

  “So nice to meet you,” his mom says, laying it on thick, like she’s not at all surprised by this chance encounter with a woman who appears to be good pals with Joel. “And congratulations to you, Cassie.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Hey, do you guys know each other?” Joel gestures between the red-haired girl and Dawn and himself, but they all shake their heads. Cassie says softly, almost so quietly that Cody can’t hear her, “I think I might have seen you around campus.” He’s not sure if she means him or Dawn, but he lets it slide because mainly he’s wondering what the heck the girl’s mom is doing talking to Joel? How do they know each other?

  “Kat and I used to go to high school together,” says Joel. There it is. “We’re from the same town, same neighborhood even.”

  “Oh, I see,” says his nana, as if this explains everything.

  “How nice,” Meredith says. “What a small world.”

  “I know, right?” Kat braids her fingers through Ruby’s. “How awesome is it that we both get to see our kids graduate from the same college now? If that isn’t life coming full circle, I don’t know what is.”

  Silence falls over them for a moment until his mom intervenes. “Well, it’s nice meeting you all. If you’ll excuse us, we’ve got an appointment to keep.”

  “Of course. See you around.” Kat proffers a little wave with her free hand.

  “Sure thing. Nice meeting you, Cassie,” Joel says. “And Ruby.”

  As they walk away, his mom turns to Joel. “How did I do? Did I do okay?”

  He grips her hand and kisses it. “You were perfect.”

  Dawn casts Cody a sideways glance, as if to say, How bizarre was that? but at the moment he’s got bigger fish to fry. His dad and Lily are walking a safe distance behind them when Joel comes up beside him.

  “Cody, man,” he says softly. “I don’t know what’s going on with your diploma, but whatever’s behind it—if it’s not missing—you’d be smart to come clean. Tell the truth, you know?”

  Cody nods his head, pretending to listen intently, but his stepdad has no idea about the depth—or range—of his sins. There’s a lot he could get nailed for beyond the frogs, pranks dating back to freshman year even, like the weekend when he and his buddies cracked the glass door in Theton Hall on a drunken bender or when they’d broken into the dorm’s canteen and stolen an entire box of Milky Ways, high as a cloud.

  “I haven’t read the bylaws of Bolton,” Joel continues, “But something tells me if you get caught in a lie, it’ll be bad news. And if, I’m just saying, if you had anything to do with the frogs—” he hesitates before continuing. “If you had anything to do with them, just admit it. Okay? That’s my humble opinion. You can always negotiate a fair punishment that won’t include taking your diploma away. You earned that diploma.”

  “Got it,” Cody says. “Thanks.” He appreciates the advice, but it’s also making him feel like a loser. How did the school find out about the prank before it even happened? Someone must have ratted him out. Maybe the same kid who sent Dawn the photo. Maybe it’s Melissa, he thinks for a millisecond. But, no, she wouldn’t be that cruel. He wonders if the dean can actually take his diploma away for a silly prank? Wouldn’t that be ironic? As if the sting of not winning last night’s award for Athlete of the Year wasn’t enough and now this? The excitement of the day has quickly shifted to full-on panic, and his stomach roils all over again.

  Joel holds the door for everyone as they step inside the cool office building and wind their way down a long marbled hallway toward the dean’s office. After checking in with the assistant, Cody flops down in a brown leather chair to wait, and his nana and Dawn excuse themselves for the ladies’ room. Lily announces she’s going to sit on the front steps outside, which is a relief. Cody doesn’t need her here to witness his downfall, if that’s what’s coming. Just then, the office door swings open.

  “Cody, hello. Mr. and Mrs. Landau, nice to see you,” says the dean. “Come in, come in, please.” There follows an awkward moment when Dean Halberstam, clearly familiar with his dad, assumes that his dad and mom are still a couple. Meredith quickly corrects the misunderstanding, though. “I actually go by Mrs. Parker these days. And this is my husband, Joel, Cody’s stepdad.”

  “Oh, hello. Right. Sorry about that. Come in.” They file into his office, an oak-paneled room layered with oriental rugs of reds and blues. Several framed certificates dot the walls, a baccalaureate from the University of Virginia and a master’s from Harvard. He circles behind his desk, sits down and gestures for everyone to do the same.

  “Please, have a seat.” His reading glasses, propped up on his head, lend him a professorial air, and Cody thinks he might vomit.

  “I helped plan the frog prank,” Cody blurts out suddenly, surprising even himself. Might as well rip the Band-Aid off now, he thinks. Get it over with. The dean glances up from the manila folder in his hands, his eyes crinkling in amusement.

  “I see.” Then he does something that surprises Cody—he laughs softly, just a little, but enou
gh for everyone to hear. “Well, thank you for telling me. That was a good one. Not overly original, perhaps, but a difficult prank to pull off, I’d imagine.”

  Cody falls back in his chair, an enormous weight lifted off his chest.

  “I should have known you were behind it,” the dean continues. “It does have your signature cleverness all over it, doesn’t it? Where on earth did you find all the frogs?” He sounds genuinely curious.

  Cody leans forward to answer, but the dean holds up his hand. “No, wait. Don’t tell me. On second thought, I’d rather not know.

  “Look, here’s why I’ve summoned you to my office,” he continues. “I’m going to cut to the chase because I know you folks are eager to be on your way. Yesterday afternoon I received a disturbing email with a photo attached to it. From an anonymous sender.” Cody stiffens in his chair.

  From the folder, the dean retrieves a printout of the photograph of Cody and Eddie Rudolph, who holds out a small backpack to Cody. Cody hands Eddie a paper. For a brief moment, relief actually washes over him: it’s the exact same photo that Dawn showed him yesterday. He’d been worried there might be more incriminating shots floating around somewhere. The dean holds the photo aloft, rotating it around their group, giving everyone ample opportunity to review it.

  “Does this look familiar to you?” he asks.

  “Um, I think so. That’s me. And that’s—”

  “Hold on a second.” Roger pushes up out of his chair. “I’d like to have a moment with my son before this meeting goes any further.”

  The dean appears momentarily surprised but recovers quickly. “Of course, Mr. Landau. Take your time. I hope you’ll understand I’m just doing due diligence here. We all know Cody’s track record and that he’s an outstanding student. Still, when something like this arrives, it behooves me to ask a few questions.”

  Roger says, “I still don’t understand why we’re here. That photo’s hardly incriminating.”

  “I’d agree. At first glance, it looks like Cody is handing a paper to this other boy who gives him a backpack. But I’d like to better understand the nature of the exchange, given what was said in the email.” He pauses. “Perhaps you’d like to know what it said?”

  His dad searches Cody, but he just shrugs. “Sure. Why not?”

  Halberstam slides down his glasses, glances at another piece of paper in the folder, and reads. “I quote, ‘Drugs for papers? What do you think it could be, Dean Halberstam?’”

  His mom gasps, but his dad rolls his eyes. “Thanks for sharing it with us, but we all know that photo proves absolutely nothing. Even with the tagline. Sounds to me like sour grapes. Maybe a jealous teammate or a jilted girlfriend. Who knows? It could be anyone who’s unhappy with Cody’s success. It certainly doesn’t give you a reason to withhold my son’s diploma.” His dad settles back into his chair.

  “I tend to agree.” The dean temples his fingers. “Cody, have you received any threatening emails recently? Can you think of anyone who might send me this photo? Do you think you might be in danger?”

  Cody shakes his head, his foot bouncing. He’s not about to get his sister involved. It hadn’t occurred to him, though, that he might be in danger, that the dean would be concerned for his safety. It’s almost creepy when he puts it that way. “No, no one I can think of.”

  “I hope you understand that school protocol demands that I investigate the allegation.”

  “Allegation?” his dad counters. “This isn’t an allegation. If the person who sent you this photo was certain of his convictions, then he should have had the balls to own up to it personally. That’s the person you should be questioning, not our son.”

  “Roger.” His mom rests a hand on his knee.

  “Maybe Cody can enlighten us?” Joel suggests, and suddenly Cody feels everyone’s eyes on him. Tread carefully, he thinks.

  “Are you comfortable with that, Mr. Landau, or would you still like to speak with Cody privately?”

  His dad and mom exchange looks. “I’m certainly comfortable with it,” she says. “I can’t imagine Cody would have anything to hide, and if he does, he’s better off coming clean with us now.” Her voice is freighted with a muted threat, which Cody receives loud and clear.

  As if his dad thinks better of it, he waves a hand in the air. “Sure, why not? Go ahead, son.”

  Cody takes a breath. “Um, I’m not sure what you want me to say. That’s me and this guy Eddie Rudolph. He’s a junior. We were at the gym last week. He’s returning a backpack I left behind.”

  “And?” The dean presses. “I was hoping you could explain what the paper is. Why you might be handing Mr. Rudolph a paper?”

  “My son isn’t obligated to tell you anything more than he wants to,” says his dad, but his mom intercedes again.

  “Roger, please. Cody isn’t on trial here. Let him tell his story. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation. Which we’d all like to get to the bottom of so he can get his diploma.” Dean Halberstam nods, as if in complete agreement.

  “Um, it’s just a paper,” Cody continues. “Eddie asked me to look it over and make some suggestions. You know, like edit it. It was for psych and I’m pretty good at psych.”

  “And how do you know Eddie, exactly?” The dean shifts in his chair.

  Cody shrugs. “We met at the gym. We both like to work out on the rowing machines. I told him once that I was thinking about switching my major from history to psychology. Guess he thought that meant I was good at it.”

  “And do you know what grade Mr. Rudolph received on this paper?”

  Cody shakes his head. “No?”

  “Well, I do,” says the dean, his chin jutting forward. “He got an A.”

  “Good for him.” Cody is unsure where the dean is headed with this. There’s no way he can prove that Cody wrote the paper. He’d been sure to delete it from his hard drive the moment he’d handed it off, an easy four-pager for Introductory Psychology. The paper had been a breeze to write. And he’s already given Eddie a heads-up about the photo. Shortly after Dawn showed him the picture, he’d tracked Eddie down to say he might want to lay low for a couple of days. They’d rehearsed the details of their story: Eddie asked him to look over his paper, and Cody obliged with comments. Eddie was returning a backpack that Cody had left behind on a bench at the gym. Plain and simple as that.

  “And did Mr. Rudolph give you anything in exchange for your so-called edits?”

  “Whoa, there.” Roger holds up a hand. “I’m not sure I like the direction this is headed in. If Cody says they’re edits, why are you saying ‘so-called?’”

  “No, Dad. It’s all right.” He leans forward in his chair. “I’ve got this. They were edits,” Cody says between clenched teeth, barely having to fake his irritation. “If you’re trying to accuse me of what I think you are, I did not write Eddie’s paper for him. He wanted help, suggestions. There’s a big difference.”

  “So, are we done here?” his stepdad pipes up.

  “Almost.” Dean Halberstam shuffles some papers. “If you’ll bear with me for one more minute. I just need to hear from you that there was nothing in the backpack that might be of interest.”

  “Cody, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to,” his dad counsels, but Cody shakes his head.

  “No, I want to answer. There was nothing in the backpack aside from maybe some old socks and a smelly T-shirt. I forgot it on a bench at the gym and Eddie grabbed it for me. And, you know what? I’m starting to get my feelings hurt here.” Cody can feel himself gaining steam in his convictions, no matter how false they might be. They’ve already robbed him of the award for best athlete. “I’ve given everything to this school—I’ve worked my butt off on the football field for you guys. For four years. And this is the thanks I get?”

  “If I may, I think I’d like to step outside with the dean before t
his conversation goes any further,” his dad interjects smoothly. “Dean Halberstam, a word, please?”

  Uh-oh. Cody’s not sure what he said. Did he just incriminate himself somehow? A cool sweat rises on the back of his neck.

  The dean appears surprised again, but says, “Of course, Mr. Landau.”

  As they exit the room, Cody stares at his mom, whose expression registers alarm and then settles into something else. It takes him a minute to recognize it but then he sees it: it’s her angry, I’m-disappointed-in-you look.

  He just can’t tell if it’s meant for him or his dad.

  * * *

  Joel can feel himself seething. This is not how these meetings are supposed to go. If a kid is culpable, you question him directly, not step outside with a parent and give the kid time to collect his thoughts. What if he and Meredith weren’t there? When Cody reaches for his phone, Joel shakes his head.

  “Um, probably not a good idea right now,” he says and watches Cody slide it back into his pocket with a shrug.

  No way is he going to let Cody text this Eddie guy, make sure his alibi is rock solid. His own students wouldn’t get the chance, so why should his son? This behind-the-doors meeting strikes Joel as highly unorthodox. Is this truly how the world operates for folks like Roger Landau? People who, because of their wealth or stature, are accustomed to getting their way? Joel can’t recall ever being a witness to such preferential treatment, but at the moment, he’s got a bad taste in his mouth, like he licked a metal flagpole.

  At the forefront of his mind are the “side-door” admission scandals that have paved the newspapers of late, stories of wealthy, privileged parents who’ve bought their children’s admission into elite colleges and who are now paying the price. Joel had experienced a sense of smug satisfaction when word broke that those same parents would be prosecuted for their hubris, but not in a million years would he have guessed that one day soon, he might find himself on the other side of the fence, party to a quid pro quo exchange where his own kid’s possible wrongdoing would get swept under the rug. Of course, who knows if that’s what’s really going on here. Maybe Cody is innocent. Maybe the dean doesn’t have enough on him to withhold his diploma, and Roger is kindly reminding him of this fact? Both of these remain possibilities.