Natalia gave in to the urge to adjust her glasses. “A well-rounded student can make a great leader.” Lately, Natalia had been thinking they should adjust their mission statement to paving the way for parents to live vicariously through their children.
“A focused student can do greater things.” This was from Charles, the oldest of the team, and the most steadfastly adherent to old ideals and traditions. He’d been the other “no” vote for hiring Natalia.
“Whose focus? The kids or their parents?” Natalia managed to keep her voice calm and not snap at Charles.
Claudia’s head tilted, her gaze assessing.
Charles harrumphed. “If kids could focus themselves, they wouldn’t be kids. They wouldn’t be raised by their parents for the first eighteen years of their life and dependent on them for the next four. Preston Academy is here for the families. If we start giving in to children’s wants and desires, then we might as well close our doors and shuffle them to public schools.”
Murdock shook his head. Henry had stayed quiet, along with the fifth member, Guy.
This wasn’t an argument Natalia was going to make any progress in. That was two members of the board who were against her proposal. Guy, Claudia, and Henry weren’t likely to agree to big curriculum changes until Charles and Murdock could stew on the information awhile. Or resign.
Guy said her thoughts out loud, though in a more socially correct way. “I certainly think it’s something we can look into at a later time.” He flipped to a specific page in her report and she knew exactly which one. It was filled with charts and graphs she’d made sure to color code. “What I think needs to garner our attention is the unbalanced and unchecked spending in the extracurricular activities. Is this correct? Our students don’t have access to updated technology in the classroom?”
Natalia let out a slow breath. You win some, you lose some. Unfortunately, while researching the technological needs of a fine-arts program, Natalia had come across schools where every student was issued an iPad for the year. Each classroom had an interactive Promethean board instead of a chalkboard. Some high schools had even done away with textbooks, and they were larger facilities than Preston.
The meeting dissolved into a discussion about what would be the best fit for the school. Each time Natalia’s excitement soared, she remembered that she’d have to break the news to Jaycee, that while the girl’s work wasn’t for nothing, a fine-arts program wasn’t going to happen in the near future.
It didn’t matter what role Natalia filled, she couldn’t help but disappoint father and daughter.
* * *
It was close to Valentine’s Day and since even superheroes and fanboys fell in love, Chris was surrounded by heart-faced emojis while waiting on customers selecting the perfect gift for the geek in their life.
It sucked. He missed Natalia, but the burn of her unknowing rejection hadn’t faded. It didn’t help when Jaycee came home in tears. Her hopes had been dashed and she was sentenced to three more years lacking stimulation surrounded by kids who didn’t “get” her. Add to that the various fine-arts programs in local high schools she’d found and Jaycee was moping around the house, miserable, and in full teen mode. He thought he’d gone through the worst during the last two years with her moods, but no.
His cell phone rang but he ignored it. Customers roamed the aisles and if anyone really needed to get ahold of him, they had his work number.
He finished ringing up one of his regular customers and her stack of Lucifer pulls. The woman’s hair was dyed platinum and the way her pale face glowed under the store’s combo of natural and fluorescent lights, he guessed she was trying to pull off her own iZombie look.
The store phone rang and he froze, handing off the bag to the lady. He plastered a smile on his face. “Enjoy.”
Two more rings went by before he grabbed the receiver.
“Arcadia Comics. Can I help you?” His heart pounded. Was Jaycee in trouble again? Would it be her on the other end?
“Hi, Chris.” Natalia’s words lacked her Ms. Shaw crispness. Instead, her resignation traveled through the line.
“What’s wrong.” He didn’t say it like it was a question. Natalia wouldn’t have tried his private phone and then his store if she was calling to beg to see him again, or if Jaycee had nailed student of the year. Not that Preston Academy had a student of the year. They were all supposed to be exceptional, all the time.
“Jaycee skipped her morning classes and has violated the dress code once again. I’m afraid she’ll face the next round of disciplinary measures.” Natalia sucked in a breath. “Which is expulsion.”
“For skipping?” The news hit his gut like a punch from Hellboy. “I get that she’s violated the rules a few times, but it was for pretty tame stuff, for normal kid stuff.”
“Yes, but Preston Academy holds its students to a higher standard.”
“Fuck Preston Academy.” Two of the closest customers lifted their heads above the aisle. Dammit. “Sorry,” he called, and into the phone, he apologized again. “Sorry, Natalia. She can’t get expelled. Her grandparents…”
“I understand, Chris. Can you come into the office so we can outline the consequences and what it’ll mean for Jaycee?”
Mara was in the back and she’d cover for him, but it was the third time this school year he’d ditched her. “Yeah, I’ll be right there.”
He darted down the hall by the register and knocked on Mara’s oak-stained office door. “Hey. Jaycee struck again and I have to go the school. Can you cover?”
“Of course.” Mara was out of her seat before he finished. “I hope everything’s okay.”
His look must’ve portrayed his frustration with his daughter and his spiking anxiety about whether her grandparents would follow through with their threat to fight him for custody. He’d sent Jaycee to Preston like they wanted. Whether she walked the line to stay there was out of his power. He couldn’t sit on her twenty-four hours a day, and no one should expect him to when they took such a small role in her life.
The twenty-five-minute drive to the school felt like an hour. The bitter wind bursting through the trees around the building matched his mood. Striding through the front entrance and straight to the office, he couldn’t produce much of a greeting. The administrative staff recognized him by now and waved to the left where Ms. Shaw’s corner office was hidden away. Just as the woman inside hid herself from the world.
Jaycee was slumped in a chair across from Ms. Branson’s sturdy desk. Her cheeks were red and blotchy, and tears brimmed in her eyes, ready to fall. His gaze dipped to her jeans and Vans. How’d he miss that this morning?
No. She’d been in khaki pants, with the same emerald top, and had remarked on the brutal cold and how grateful she was she didn’t have to walk to school or go outside to get in between classes.
He sighed and she looked up. Ms. Branson ducked her blond head to give them a modicum of privacy.
But he wasn’t going to make his drama public any more than it already was. He bypassed Ms. Branson and barged into Natalia’s office.
Ms. Branson’s chair scraped back and she squeaked like she was going to say something, but he’d already disappeared inside and closed the door behind him. Natalia jerked her head up. A sheet of paper was in front of her, and her keyboard had been pushed out of the way.
He didn’t take his eyes off her as he closed the door behind him. Crossing to his seat, only a stronger man could’ve looked away and she was his weakness. Her hair was bound and she reached for a black-rimmed pair of glasses but her hand stalled over them.
His mind flashed back to the first time he’d been in this office. She’d worn those, but he hadn’t seen them on her since. And she didn’t wear contacts.
Really? Glasses? Was she ever the real Natalia Shaw Preston with anyone?
He plopped into the chair, rested his elbows on the armrests, and clasped his hands in front of his stomach. “Lay it on me.”
Pushing her chair a
way from her desk, she crossed her legs and he wanted to groan. Did she have to pick a skirt to wear today of all days? She hadn’t known Jaycee would decide to be a little delinquent today. The skirt was part of her Ms. Shaw identity. Sharp. Professional. But with a kick of femininity the men she worked with couldn’t deny, like her own little rebellion. Natalia wasn’t a business-skirt woman. She was a sweats-and-leggings woman, but “they” had expectations so she must live up to them.
Natalia tilted her head. Was his resentment screaming through his features? Probably. He had Nana and Papa to deal with. Would they live up to their threats? He’d been in Jaycee’s life full-time for four years. Yet, Cierra had all the power. He should’ve fought for custody when he had the means, but her parents had already been murmuring in her ear, convincing them a nanny would be just as good. An informal deal, an understanding between him and Cierra, had seemed sufficient and also wouldn’t make Jaycee feel like her mother had totally given up on her. Which was the truth, wasn’t it? But at the time, he’d been willing to absorb the hard feelings and stress to buffer his daughter.
“I went through the policy in detail before you got here.” Natalia flipped the document in front of her around and pushed it across the desk. He didn’t bother reaching for it. “Jaycee will be expelled for the rest of year. However, upon proof of completion of ninth grade at another school and an essay about what she learned about her time away from Preston, she can petition to return to the school for her sophomore year.”
He dropped his gaze from her steady one to glare at the paper. Expelled. His daughter. “Natalia. I’m going to lose her if you do this.”
She pressed her lips together. Sympathy simmered in her eyes, but so did determination. “I’m really sorry, Chris. I think Jaycee’s going to continue to struggle with the board’s decision to table the new course track, and I anticipate that she will continue to act out.”
He couldn’t look at her. Was he expecting her to bend rules for him just because they slept together?
Yeah, he kinda was. But also because Natalia knew what was riding on this decision and she wasn’t allowing one inch of leeway for Jaycee.
Natalia leaned forward. “There’s only three months left in this school year. She can use the time away to work through her feelings and finish her freshman requirements. I’m sure she’ll get back in next year.”
“You know what? I want her nowhere near this place.” Now that he’d admitted it, the floodgates opened. “What has Preston ever done for her? As a matter of fact, what has anyone who’s had anything to do with Preston ever done for her? Her mother gave her up. Her grandparents force this vile place on her like it’s her greatest wish to spend her days with other kids who only care about what she can do for them. Her teachers only pay attention to her when she breaks the goddamn precious rules.” And I didn’t swoop in to defend her needs. The anger roiling in him redirected itself toward Natalia. “And you made her think she could actually make a difference among these people.”
Natalia’s lips pursed. “The fact is—and this was hard for me to reconcile with, too—this school works for many families. We stick to the mission statement and we graduate kids who are leaders.”
“Leaders of what?” He sat forward. “What kind of leaders, Natalia? I’m sorry, we’re supposed to pretend we weren’t an item, right? Ms. Shaw. What leaders? You need to redefine that mission statement because it’s deceptively narrow. Jaycee has no inclination to be a bank president or a politician, but that’s all Preston cares about.” Her expression brimmed with shock, but he wasn’t done. “And I don’t think this place is where Jaycee will learn to be comfortable with herself, with me, or with the world. I don’t want her hiding behind a mask or-or”—his gaze landed on her frames—“glasses.”
Natalia flinched like he’d shoved her despite the heavy desk between them. He ground his jaw down before his irritation over their breakup spilled into the argument. Like it hadn’t already.
“You’re right.” His gaze lifted to hers. Had she really said that? “Maybe Preston isn’t for Jaycee. But insulting those it is for is low. Bringing up my personal history is… Well, your need to please Cierra’s parents is not Preston Academy’s problem.” She flattened her hands on the smooth top of her desk. “Your mistake regarding Jaycee’s custody and your terror of its repercussions are understandable. But don’t throw how I behave around my family into this, not when you’ve done nothing but go against your best instincts to make Nana and Papa happy. Don’t come to me when your daughter does what she wants, not when you’ve been letting her do what she wants whenever she’s around you.”
He… What? Was this her version of you do you? Her censorious words from the first day they met coursed through his mind. She was the boss, used to people jumping when she said so. She was educated and entitled. None of that meant she knew it all. “It’s easy to be an armchair expert. You’ve read all the textbooks, taken all the classes. But you haven’t taught. You haven’t been a parent. Come to me with your opinion when you actually have experience.”
He popped up and stormed out. She might’ve called his name, but blood was pounding between his ears. Was the woman who’d been raised in an ivory tower saying he spoiled his daughter?
“Come on, Jaycee. Let’s clean out your locker and get going.” He strode out, Jaycee’s footsteps rushing behind him.
The halls were empty, thank God. He gestured to Jaycee to lead the way. They cleaned out her locker, leaving all the textbooks behind. Jaycee sniffled and refused to meet his eyes. He shouldered her backpack and marched back to the exit.
After he and Jaycee were loaded and pulling away, he checked the rearview mirror. He wouldn’t lie. Seeing the brick monster fade in the distance was satisfying. His time there hadn’t been the high point of his life, and that school had made his daughter miserable. And if Natalia ever peeled back that armor she’d constructed around her, she’d see it was doing the same to her.
A serious conversation was required with his daughter, but he couldn’t summon the basic question of “What were you thinking?” They drove in silence for a few minutes.
His phone vibrated. Seriously. What now? “Yeah?”
“Mr. Halliwell, this is Ms. Branson from…”
His joyful afternoon wasn’t done yet. “Yep.” What now?
“There was a form we needed you to sign to show we’ve gone over the policy with you.”
Natalia’s slender fingers pushing the paper across her desk flashed through his mind. Damn. “And verbal’s not good enough?”
“Unfortunately not.”
“You have my address. Throw it in the mail and I’ll get it right back to you.”
Her beat of silence was enough warning that he wasn’t going to like what she had to say. “Sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Halliwell, but we haven’t had the best of luck with something of this caliber getting returned to us. We really ask that it’s signed in person.”
And I really ask that I don’t have to see Preston again. “Fine. I’ll be in tomorrow after five.” When he was off work. So Mara wouldn’t have to cover for any more of this bullshit. If Nana fought him for custody, he’d be asking all of their employees to cover his ass.
“Thank—”
He hung up and concentrated on driving.
Tomorrow after five meant he had over twenty-four hours to anticipate seeing Natalia again.
But it gave him all of tonight after work to have a comprehensive discussion with Jaycee about what her decisions might cost them.
Chapter 13
The clock ticked to 4:50. Butterflies swelled in Natalia’s stomach until the antipasto turkey sandwich on rye she’d had for lunch threatened to evacuate her body.
Chris was going to be here soon. The rest of the staff had cleared out. Only the janitorial employees were in the building and they started on classrooms first. She often worked late so they saved the offices for last.
She tapped her pen against the desktop. Payroll form
s were scattered in front of her, and she’d been staring at them for over an hour. All that was required was her signature and Ms. Branson would forward them to accounting.
But it wasn’t just the impending confrontation with Chris that was on her mind. She’d reviewed the footage of Jaycee from the previous day. She’d skipped the morning, and so had Dresden. Jaycee had gotten out of her dad’s car, in proper Preston Academy attire, and strode into the school, then backtracked and hopped in with a newly licensed Dresden.
Natalia hadn’t called Dresden’s parents yet, nor had she approached the teachers who hadn’t reported Dresden’s absence. Anger burned through her. Jaycee had taken the fall once again, while the reputation of Dresden’s parents and his athletic skill protected him.
Fun times to look forward to tomorrow as she called a meeting with the boy, Mr. and Mrs. Wentworth, and the faculty involved, which included Coach Sammie.
Natalia signed off on the payroll and rose. Passing her bookshelf, the prism caught her eye. Days were lengthening this time of year, but little sun shone into her office. She adjusted the prism so the S faced out. It’d catch the light better.
Carrying the forms out of her office to Ms. Branson’s desk, she nestled them in the tray by her assistant’s desk. This process would get an overhaul if the board approved spending on technology upgrades that’d benefit not only the students, but the staff.
Turning around, she gasped. “Chris!”
He was in the entry of the main office, his usual easy body language less relaxed and more…worn. Fatigued. Haggard.
But he looked good. His broad shoulders filled the width of the doorway, and his winter coat hung open. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his loose jeans, and his shirt of the day read My Ring Grants Me Powers. What Does Yours Do? It would’ve made her smile if it weren’t for how they’d parted yesterday.
Based on Principal: Fanboys Book 3 Page 13