by Aly Stiles
“Mr. Campbell?” I glance up to see a professional-looking woman enter through the same door I just did. She smiles at the receptionist and signs in before crossing over to me, hand out-stretched. “Darla Ramirez, nice to meet you in person.” My lawyer. Thank god.
I will myself not to hug her. “Thank you for coming. I don’t know more than what I told you on the phone. I just got here as well.”
She nods and tilts her head with a soft expression. She must see how terrified I am. “We’ll sort this out, okay?”
“They can’t… I mean…” I can’t even get the words out. Closing my eyes, I draw in a long inhale to steady my frayed nerves. “They can’t take her away, can they?” My voice sounds haunted and raw.
My heart constricts in my chest when she hesitates. “They can if they have reason to believe she’s in danger of abuse or neglect, but we’re going to show them that she’s in a stable, loving environment.” She steps toward me, her face melting into compassion again. “It was obvious to me from our first conversation how much you care about your niece. It will be obvious to the school officials as well. Please try to relax.”
I swallow and clench my fist, wanting to accept her reassurance but things rarely roll our way. Why should this?
We look over at the sound of another door opening, and this time a stern older woman emerges and scans the room. Her eyes rest on me, and I straighten.
“Julian Campbell?” she asks.
I nod and move forward, forcing myself to display a calm façade. “Hi, yes. You must be Principal Leonard. Great to meet you.” We shake hands, and I motion to Darla. “This is our family practice lawyer, Darla Ramirez.”
“Hello, Principal Leonard,” Darla says with a warm smile.
The principal returns a startled look and glances between us. “You brought a lawyer?”
“I’m just here to help,” Darla explains in an even voice. “I think you’ll understand when we review the details of this situation.” Her smile never slips, and Principal Leonard seems to relax slightly.
“Okay then. This way please.”
We follow her into her office where I’m instantly tackled by a small body.
“Uncle J!” Naomi cries, throwing her arms around my waist and burrowing into my chest.
“Hey, kiddo,” I say. A huge weight lifts now that she’s in my arms again. I kiss the top of her head and drape my arm over her shoulders as I straighten to face the principal. Another man hovers beside her desk.
“This is Naomi’s school counselor, Peter Reinhardt.”
We exchange greetings, Naomi still clinging to me like we’re on the deck of the Titanic, not her principal’s office.
“Naomi, honey, why don’t you wait outside for a minute while we talk to your uncle,” Principal Leonard says, but my niece’s grip only tightens around me. She twists toward them, tears wetting her cheeks.
“Please don’t take me away from him. Please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it. Please don’t take me away!”
My own eyes burn as I pull her closer. Over my dead body is that going to happen. The principal’s stern demeanor thaws slightly and she leans toward Naomi.
“We’re not here to do anything except make sure you’re in the best situation possible. Please give us a moment to talk to your uncle.”
Naomi’s fists bury further in my shirt, and I hate the thought of prying her away, but right now we need to play along and follow the rules. I reach around my back to gently loosen her grip. Then I crouch in front of her and grip her shoulders.
“Hey, look at me,” I say, searching her eyes. “We’re going to figure this out, okay? I love you and nothing can ever change that. See that woman there?” I motion to Darla. “She’s a lawyer who’s going to help us go to court and make sure you can stay with me forever.”
Her big watery eyes widen in shock. “You… you want to keep me forever?”
My heart cracks as I pull her close again. “God, Omi, you’re the most important thing in my life. Of course I want to keep you forever.”
She squeezes her arms around my neck, and I tighten her to my chest for a moment before forcing her back again. “So please. Right now, you need to wait for us while we talk, okay?” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat.
After several seconds, she finally steps back and swipes her sleeve across her eyes. She scans the other adults in the room, studying each one before landing back on me.
“I love you too, Uncle J. I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“It’s going to be okay. I will take care of this, I promise.”
She latches her arms around me one last time before slinking from the office and closing the door behind her.
The room is even heavier after she leaves.
I force myself to my feet, shaken by what just happened, terrified about what’s to come. From the look on the school officials’ faces, they weren’t expecting that exchange. Whether that’s in my favor or not, I don’t know.
“Please, have a seat, Mr. Campbell,” the principal says, motioning toward the two chairs in front of her desk. “You too, Ms. Ramirez.” We do as instructed, while she settles behind her desk.
My fists clench in my lap as I stare at the woman who could destroy my life in the next five minutes.
“Naomi was sent to my office today because she dumped a container of chocolate milk on another girl and said, and I quote, ‘I’d rather be Nasty Naomi than a raging bitch.’ End quote.”
Oh shit. I force away the smile threatening to crack my grave expression.
“Really. Wow,” I say, shaking my head with what I hope is appropriate shock and horror. Inside, I’m high-fiving the crap out of that girl for standing up to those bullies.
“Yes. We’ve made many allowances for her over this past year, overlooking her drastic change in behavior and appearance in light of the tragic loss of her mother, but this incident cannot be ignored.”
I nod and scratch my chin as I lean back. “I see. I’m assuming this is one of the girls who’s been bullying her and posting horrible things about her on social media?” I ask in a steady voice. My lawyer perks up beside me, like I hoped.
“She’s being bullied?” Darla asks.
“For a while now, yes. I believe they call her Nasty Naomi and make fun of everything from her appearance to the fact that her mom is dead. Nice girls,” I say to the principal, who’s shrunk a bit and exchanges a look with the counselor.
“We weren’t aware of a bullying situation,” Principal Leonard says, jotting something on a legal pad in front of her.
“I see, so you thought Naomi labeled herself Nasty Naomi and dumped chocolate milk on another kid for no reason?” Easy, Julian. I force a sigh when they stiffen.
“Look,” I say, leaning forward. “I get that her reaction was unacceptable and I’ll discuss it with her. If you have to give her detention or whatever, we’ll accept it, but that girl has been through hell this past year, and I’m going to guess if those girls are preying on Naomi, they’re probably picking on other kids as well.”
The woman clears her throat and scribbles more notes. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Mr. Campbell. We’ll look into it immediately and address it.”
“Great,” I say, relaxing back into my chair. I still can’t calm the panic in my gut, however. Something isn’t right, and I suspect I’m here for more than a chocolate milk attack.
“But that’s not the only reason we called you in today,” she continues, confirming my fears. “I’m assuming you guessed that based on the presence of your lawyer.”
I nod, my fists clenching in my lap again.
She pulls open a folder and scans it. “After the cafeteria incident we called the emergency contact on file. It’s listed as a Mr. Allan Hayes, her father. Imagine our surprise when he answered, clearly intoxicated, and said, again I quote, ‘You need to call her uncle. She’s his fucking problem now.’ End quote. We got your name and number from Naomi who confir
med she’s been living with you.”
Rage builds in my chest. My nails arc into my palm as I use every ounce of strength I have to rein it in. I should have murdered that bastard when I had the chance. “Yes, her father is no longer in a position to care for her,” I say through clenched teeth. “She’s been staying with me for the past six weeks or so.”
“I see.” Principal Leonard’s gaze crosses to Darla. “From piecing together all of this information, I assume you’re in the process of applying for legal guardianship?”
“Principal Leonard, if I may,” Darla cuts in, pulling a folder from her briefcase. “May I share these?” she asks me, and I nod.
She opens the folder and passes it across the desk to the principal. “Here are the forms we are preparing for the court, including the Petition for Appointment of Guardian for a Minor. Julian and I had an appointment this afternoon to complete these so we can file on Monday. As you just experienced, we are not expecting any resistance from Naomi’s father, though we will serve notice to him as required by law, and are prepared to fight for custody if necessary.”
The principal sifts through the pages, her face changing the longer she studies the documents. She passes the folder to the counselor who does the same.
“She’s very troubled, Mr. Campbell,” the man says, while flipping through the folder. “We’ve tried to talk to her here over this past year, but she should really be in more intensive counseling. This is a lot for a child of her age.” He looks up and hands the folder back to Darla.
“I know. We started weekly counseling with Veronica Rosen.” I can hear the desperation in my voice and pull in a deep breath. Please believe us. Please, please, please.
He arches a brow. “Veronica Rosen? I know of her. She has an excellent reputation. You wouldn’t mind if we contact her to verify?”
“Contact away,” I say, waving my hand.
I stop breathing as I wait in silence. They exchange a long look, then graze Darla before locking their appraisal on me. Their eyes scour my face, and I remain stoic through the intense stares.
“And what is your occupation, Mr. Campbell?” the principal asks finally.
“That’s not relevant as long as it’s not illegal and he has the means to provide for Naomi,” Darla interjects.
“It’s okay,” I say. “I’m a musician.”
Her gaze narrows. “I see.”
Shit. Here we go. I flash back to the awkward encounter with Dave, the guitar store employee. I get that we’re not big yet, and I’m so tired of having to defend myself. If they just listen and—
“It must run in the family. Naomi seems to have quite an interest in music as well,” the counselor says.
My focus shoots to him in surprise, and he smiles.
“She would probably really enjoy having the opportunity to pursue that,” he explains.
Oh god. Air rushes into my lungs, relief so heavy tears build in my throat again. “Um yeah. Actually we just got her a guitar last weekend. She’s writing a song now and she’s been invited to perform at the Genevieve Fox Young Artist Showcase next month.”
“Really?” They lean forward, suddenly intrigued instead of critical.
I finally take a full breath as I nod. “Genevieve—well, Viv now—is the lead singer in my band and she just invited her this past week.”
“Genevieve Fox? You play with Genevieve Fox?” Principal Leonard’s tone goes up several steps, and I can’t help but think she kind of resembles one of her preteen students.
“Viv Hastings, but yeah, same person,” I say with a smile.
She shakes her head, still in awe. “Naomi mentioned she’s a big fan of hers. I bet she enjoys having a chance to associate with her.”
“Oh believe me. She’s loving every second of it.”
Another silence follows, but this time I can cycle air through my lungs. Finally, the principal rises from behind her desk and extends her hand. “It’s been a pleasure meeting with you, Mr. Campbell. Please keep us up-to-date with the progress of your petition and we will investigate the bullying allegations right away. We have a zero tolerance policy on bullying.”
I return her handshake, my soul soaring someplace high above the muck it’s used to. “Can we bring Naomi back now?” I hear the tremble in my voice. The raw relief.
“Of course,” she says with a smile.
In light of the circumstances, we all think it’s best that Naomi leaves with me this afternoon and takes the weekend to decompress. The principal also says she’ll wait to issue disciplinary measures pending an investigation into the bullying allegations, which could be a mitigating factor in her judgement.
After confirming we’re still on for our appointment this afternoon, Darla heads to her car while Naomi and I slide into mine exhausted and drained. I can’t believe it hasn’t even been a week since all of this began. Just six days ago this girl was a thorn in my side at our first rehearsal. Now? My entire universe has been turned upside down… or right side up?
Sinking into my seat, I angle my head against the headrest toward Naomi and take her hand. She squeezes back, and we stare through the windshield for a solid minute and a half. My brain is a mess. I can only imagine what hers is thinking, but I finally have faith she’ll tell me when she’s ready.
“So chocolate milk, huh?” I ask, breaking the silence.
She glances over sharply and relaxes at my smile. “She deserved it.”
“Officially, please don’t do that again. Unofficially?”
I lift my fist, and she taps it with a grin.
CHAPTER 20
HADLEY
I skim the text from my mom and release an audible grunt. Thank goodness no one’s around to hear it.
The control room was stifling after Julian left, and I’ve spent the last hour or so wandering the building until I finally escaped outside for some fresh air. I’ve perched on the decorative wall where I first met Naomi, swinging my feet like she had done. I get it now. It’s impossible not to when you’re settled into the warm concrete and your feet are dangling several inches off the ground. I wish she was here beside me right now. I study the vacant spot, shuddering at the strange thought. I’m not sure how you can come to care for someone so much in such a short time, but both of them have burrowed into my heart in a way that will leave a forever hole when they’re gone.
I flinch when my phone buzzes again, my gaze dropping to the screen in anticipation, but it’s still not Julian or Naomi. Just another casting call for a career I don’t want. I also ignored the link to the modeling agency and the admissions page for Stanford University. I’m actually not against pursuing a degree, just not now and definitely not for whatever they think I should be studying. Maybe social work?
I know I can’t be Viv’s assistant forever. I’m not naïve like my parents think. I’m fully aware that one day our lives will outgrow our professional relationship and she won’t need me anymore. I’ve thought a lot about what I want to do when that day comes, but nothing ever seemed worthy of replacing the best job in the world. Well, until I met Naomi.
Their tragic situation struck a deep chord within me. I love the idea of being able to help kids like her find homes and hope like she has with Julian. And who knows? There’s no reason I can’t look into classes now while I continue working for Viv.
A car door slams in the distance, and I lift my head to see a man and young girl coming around a vehicle that looks a lot like Julian’s. I hop off the wall and start toward them, my pulse picking up with each step. Soon I’m speed-walking, then practically jogging. Julian’s face lights up when he sees me, sending a strange warmth through me. This wave isn’t lust or embarrassment like usual. This one is calmer, more stable and lasting. It feels like a hug from Viv, like what others describe as the comfort and safety of home.
I slow to a stop when I approach, my smile growing at the image of Naomi leaning into Julian’s side while he rests his arm around her shoulders.
“Playing hooky?�
�� I ask Naomi, who shrugs shyly.
“I got in trouble, and Uncle J had to pick me up.”
“Uh-oh. Did this have anything to do with those mean girls at school?”
A smile grows on her lips when she exchanges a look with Julian. “Maybe.”
“Anyway, she’s going to hang out with us for the rest of the afternoon,” Julian says. “Do you think maybe she could sit with you while we finish up?”
“I’d love that,” I say, tugging Naomi’s sleeve. She smiles and straightens from Julian’s side.
“I was also wondering if maybe she could stay with you this evening while I meet with the lawyer,” he says, one eye squinted as he rubs the back of his neck.
As if I could say no to that image. “Sure. A lawyer?”
“He’s going to tell the court he wants to keep me forever,” Naomi cuts in, a huge grin on her face. Julian, who had opened his mouth to respond, shuts it abruptly.
“Yeah. That.”
“Really? Oh my gosh! That’s fantastic,” I say, clapping my hands and leaning down to her.
“Yeah, it will take a few months and we have to have an interview and someone has to come to our house. Oh and we have to go to actual court, but after that, it will be official,” Naomi continues in an animated voice.
I turn to Julian who shrugs. “Yeah, she’s pretty much got the gist of it.”
His eyes dig into mine, pulling at my heart with an array of unspoken messages, but we’re broken apart when Naomi grabs my hand and drags me toward the building.
“Come on. I’ll show you the song I’m working on for the showcase,” she says. “Uncle J, do you have a guitar I can borrow?”
“I think we can probably track one down,” he calls out, still rooted in the same spot on the walkway.
I glance back to catch his tired smile as he watches us.