by Charish Reid
Kenneth appeared positively apoplectic by John’s intrusion, his red-mottled face pulled tight with a perturbed expression. Had he expected John to just stand there and let him talk to his lady that way? The old professor suffered from an elitist outlook on the world. That’s where guys like John came in. He was there to gently remind folks like Ken that no was a sentence.
“Thank you for the reminder, Mr. Donovan,” Victoria said in a calm voice.
“My apologies, Victoria,” Kenneth ground out through a clenched jaw.
“Also,” John added, suddenly feeling himself. “Are you saying libraries don’t aid in a student’s actual literary career?”
“With all due respect.” Williams sighed wearily, as if John’s contribution to the conversation were a pesky interference. “While a degree in Library Science is practical, and sometimes even necessary, the vast majority of Pembroke’s English students tend to be accepted in more prestigious graduate programs.”
Oh really? John clenched his fists. “With all due respect—”
“Dr. Williams, I’m sure I can meet with you later to discuss our work,” Victoria interrupted. “But still I’m confident that my idea will benefit all of our students. Especially those in Children’s Literature and the Early Childhood Education.”
Williams regarded her with a smug expression. “Yes, well, I suspect I’ll have a chance to look at your findings at another Curriculum and Policy Committee meeting. Good day to you both.” And with that, the old man took his leave, ambling in the general direction of the university.
John didn’t unclench his jaw until Victoria touched his arms. When he glanced down at her, she wore a pained expression. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
“For which part?”
Victoria hesitated, blinking her confusion. “That’s just Ken, I’m afraid. He’s even rude to the university librarians. I’ve heard the complaints.”
He couldn’t help his rueful grin. “He’s even rude to the university librarians... So little old me from the kiddie department should expect it?”
She frowned. “That’s not what I meant. He’s just a jackass who likes to throw his weight around. Hell, he’s been my nemesis since I took this job.”
John narrowed his gaze on her and tilted his head. “But you’re a professor, same as he.”
Victoria exhaled. “Not exactly. I’m an assistant professor while he’s been an associate for thirty years. He’s still my boss and one of the people who will sit on my tenure review. That man, and a handful of other men, hold my career in their hands.”
John took a deep breath and held it for a second. His irritation was threatening to ruin the special moment they’d shared before Dr. Williams’s interruption. But dammit, he was irritated. She’d called him an associate. What did that even mean? He couldn’t decide if it was because she was simply awkward or if she was embarrassed to acknowledge him. Surely, the old man saw them huddled together in an intimate manner. He had certainly looked John over in an attempt to size him up. An associate? “Look, I understand that academia is toxic. Despite my ‘practical’ education, I remember it being a cesspool of gatekeepers who kept the marginalized away. But you’re just as accomplished as that asshole.”
Victoria’s brows scrunched together. “Yes, but be that as it may, I still have to work with the old guard in order to make any progress.” She worried her thumbnail between her teeth. “In fact, he’s right. I still need to get his committee’s approval.”
John sighed. “Fine. Do what you think is necessary.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He shrugged and said the one thing he reprimanded Becca for. “Nothing.”
She shot him a disbelieving look. “Nothing?”
He tried to remain passive as he shook his head. “Nope.” His phone vibrated against his chest and he pulled it from his jacket. It was a local phone number that he didn’t recognize, so he reluctantly answered it. “Hello?”
“Mr. Donovan, Becca Richards’s guardian?” asked a woman.
“This is he?”
“I’m the principal of Hollingsworth Academy and I have Becca in my office.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Becca was in an incident with another student. Both students are fine, just a little rattled.”
“What kind of incident?” John’s mind and heart began to race with terrible images of an injured or traumatized Becca.
“Let’s just say that Becca got into a scuffle with another female student. No one is injured, per se.”
“She got into a fight?” John demanded. Victoria’s eyes were on him with piercing intensity. “Is she okay? Is she hurt?”
“No one is injured,” the principle repeated. “I’d appreciate it if you would come to the school so we could discuss the next step of this conflict.”
“Yes, fine,” John said in a terse voice and hung up. He faced Victoria with a resigned expression. “I’m sorry to do this to you, but Becca...”
“Let’s go,” she said, hitching her purse on her shoulder. She moved to open the passenger’s side of the pickup.
He watched her, bewildered by her swift movements. “I’m taking you back to your office, right?”
“No,” Victoria said as she climbed into her seat. “We’re going to the school. You need to see about this now.”
“But this...” John paused. He was close to saying this wasn’t part of their first-date plans. “You don’t have to do this. I can drop you off at your office and get her.”
“Hollingsworth is just a couple blocks away. Let’s go see what’s wrong.” Victoria slammed her door shut.
John took a deep breath and made his way around the front of his truck to the driver’s side. When he sat behind the wheel, he snuck a covert glance at Victoria, who sat staring straight on with a determined look on her face. His irritation was replaced by a sense of relief. She didn’t have to do this, but she was accompanying him to something he had no preparation for. John was thankful.
Chapter Eighteen
Principal Karen Schmidt, who looked to be Victoria’s age, glanced at her before addressing John. She lowered her voice. “This is really a matter for Becca’s parent or guardian.”
Victoria stood behind John, holding her jacket, memories of middle school anxiety creeping back into her adult existence. Hollingsworth Academy appeared to be the junior version of Pembroke: moneyed and lacking in melanin. The small lockers and the cool girls were no longer ghosts of her past, but actual frights that surrounded her. “I’m a friend of the family,” she said, taking a step forward. “I’d like to be present while you talk about a young black girl’s next step in disciplinary matters.”
Her words made the principal take notice. The woman tucked her long blond hair behind her ears and swallowed. “If that’s alright with Mr. Donovan.”
John, clearly growing impatient with the preamble, growled, “Of course she stays. Can I just see my niece please?”
Principal Schmidt walked them into her office, where young Becca sat in a chair off to the side of her desk. The girl was holding herself and bent over at the waist. She stared at the floor, refusing to look up at her uncle who walked through the door.
Two chairs sat before the principal’s desk, Victoria let John sit closer to his niece and watched the scene unfold. Principal Karen Schmidt took a seat behind her desk and tried her best to interact with everyone in the room. “Becca, your uncle is here.”
Becca finally looked up, her large brown eyes watery and red. She looked from John to Victoria and said, “Is she my lawyer?”
John scoffed. “What?”
“I know I’m in trouble, but I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”
“She’s my friend, honey,” he said with an exasperated tone. “Can someone please explain what’s going on here?”
&nb
sp; Victoria and Becca locked eyes and stared at one another for a long time. Victoria saw herself in the girl and her heart broke. She remembered sitting in a principal’s office feeling misunderstood. She also picked up on Becca’s suspicious gaze. The girl wanted to know who she was and what connection she shared with her uncle. Victoria couldn’t believe she was here, but when she’d caught the stricken expression on John’s face, she’d known that she couldn’t leave him alone. Seeing about a child in distress was far more important than a lunch date.
Principal Schmidt cleared her throat and recounted the events. “Becca and her friends were engaged in a conflict with another group of girls. It occurred during the lunch hour and everyone involved has had a visit with me. I’ve called all parents and I’m conducting meetings with everyone to see if we can reach a resolution.”
“Can you tell me what the conflict was about?” John asked impatiently.
“Becca,” Principal Schmidt gestured.
The girl shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Basically Jenny, Megan, and Bridgette were doing what they always do. They were making fun of me and Kelly and we tried to ignore them, but they wouldn’t shut up. So McKenna and Devon joined us and we all told them off together.”
“Four against three,” Principal Schmidt said with pursed lips.
“The odds aren’t as much an issue as the pattern of behavior exhibited by Jenny, Megan, and Bridgette,” Victoria said. “If they have a habit of bullying, shouldn’t that be looked into?”
Everyone in the room shifted in their seats to look at her. Hope shined in Becca’s eyes, John raised a brow, and the principal frowned. “Dr. Reese is right,” John said. “Becca has come to me with these concerns regarding a girl who’s been calling her names. Is this the same girl?” he asked his niece.
Becca nodded.
“Well there you go,” John said with a righteous tone. “What does this girl’s parents have to say?”
“Jenny and her parents were concerned that Becca behaved with aggression in response to playful children’s banter,” the principal said blandly. “I’m wondering if they’re correct.”
Victoria sighed loudly. “Really? Becca behaved with aggression? What are you really trying to say? To hear you tell it, Becca just pummeled this girl without provocation?”
“Ms....”
“Dr. Reese,” Victoria finished. “I think you need to take a closer look at these accounts. I’m sure that when you do, you’ll find a young lady who is just defending herself against your garden variety bully. How do you expect a child to behave when they’ve been badgered?”
Principal Schmidt gaped at her, mouth wide open and eyes blinking. “Excuse me?”
“What Dr. Reese is saying,” John interjected, “is that you’re telling one side of the story. You can’t expect me to sit here and believe that my niece wasn’t goaded into a fight. Was it actually a fight?” He directed the question to Becca.
“I shoved her,” Becca admitted.
“And Jenny fell in the cafeteria,” Principal Schmidt finished.
“And did she touch you first?” John pressed.
Becca shook her head, her gaze falling back to the floor again.
“Well then it wasn’t your job to put your hands on her,” John said. “But I assure you, Principal Schmidt, my niece wouldn’t act unless provoked. You can look through her records and see for yourself. Becca has never been in a fight.”
Karen Schmidt gave a curt nod. “Of course, Mr. Donovan, we take a student’s history into account. But you should know that we have zero-tolerance for violence on our campus. All of the girls will have to be reprimanded.”
“And what will this punishment look like?” Victoria said, her body tense and ready for a fight on this girl’s behalf. Becca, like all little black girls stuck in these junior Pembrokes, needed a sponsor and she was fully prepared to stand with John. “Because I should let you know, one educator to another, harsh punishment for the victim of bullying can only serve to crush a student’s spirit. Especially if they’re already a marginalized student.”
Karen appeared to hold her breath as she stared Victoria down. “Becca will have a week’s work of after-school detention with the rest of the girls who were involved. Admittedly, by the time a cafeteria worker could intervene, it had turned into a brawl.”
“Making it difficult to know who exactly started it,” John said.
“Perhaps.” Principal Schmidt said in a tired voice. “Everyone will start their detention period on Monday and it will end next Friday. Mr. Donovan, you can pick Becca up from school at 4 p.m. instead of the usual dismissal time.”
“Is anything going to happen to Jenny and her friends?” Becca cried. “They were the ones who started it.”
John shot her a glare. “Becca.”
Her watery eyes shot it right back. “What?”
He sighed and returned his attention to the principal. “Mrs. Schmidt, the problem between these girls is definitely not over. Does your zero-tolerance policy extend to cases of bullying?”
“Of course,” the principal said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “All of the girls will engage in a truth and reconciliation exercise during their detention sessions. We practice more holistic methods of discipline in matters like this.”
Victoria loosened her shoulders slightly. Although she recited the policy like any other school administrator, Principal Schmidt’s idea wasn’t terrible. Perhaps forced apologies in a group setting would help the girls understand their different perspectives. John heaved another tired sigh and stood to shake the woman’s hand. “Thank you for your time, Principal Schmidt. Becca will be present for all detention sessions next week.”
Becca had heard enough as well. She folded her arms over her chest and flung herself out of her chair, storming out of the office. While she waited in the hallway, Victoria took the time to address the principal. “Thank you for allowing me to sit in on this meeting,” she said.
The woman looked between her and John. “Right. Any idea when Becca’s mother will be back from Sweden?”
“In about two months,” John said in a tired voice.
Principal Schmidt nodded. “I see. Have you considered letting Becca meet with a counselor? Acting out in school is sometimes a sign of sudden upheaval in a child’s home-life. As I understand it, her parents recently divorced?”
Victoria didn’t like the woman’s tone, but chose to keep her mouth shut. She’d already overstepped her welcome as it was. Apparently there was upheaval in the Donovan Clan that she wasn’t aware of. “Yes, they have,” John said.
“And could this contribute to Becca’s aggressive attitude?”
Victoria bit her tongue, close to excusing herself from the room altogether. This scene reminded her of the two years she’d been stuck in Beaufort, South Carolina. She’d been, yet again, the new kid in a sea of white faces who were more or less indifferent about her sudden appearance. Those who weren’t indifferent had made her tenure at Pinewood Elementary a nightmare. Defending herself against their taunts had earned her a couple trips to the principal’s office. As small as Victoria had been, she’d still understood what aggressive really meant and how grossly inaccurate it was.
“There’s no evidence of my niece having an aggressive attitude,” John said with thin-lipped irritation. “What we’re dealing with is a bunch of pre-adolescent girls acting out their insecurities in petty ways. Sometimes that takes the form of a cafeteria brawl or name calling in the classroom. As I said, Becca will be present in every detention session next week. Is there anything else?”
Victoria’s gaze flew to his face when he was finished, thoroughly impressed by his swift and just response. He accepted Becca’s punishment because he had to, but he wasn’t going to let this woman brow beat him or speak ill of his niece. If only my parents had done the same for me... His sense of fairness was just as at
tractive as his sexy swagger.
The principal arched a brow and paused for a beat before shaking her head. “No, Mr. Donovan, that will be all. Thank you for coming.”
“Of course.” John snatched his coat up and exited the office. Victoria quickly followed. Once in the hallway, they met with a sullen Becca who dragged her backpack on the floor. Her uncle overtook her and strode towards the front entrance. “Pick up the pace, Becca.”
Victoria trailed behind the girl, recognizing the slump in her shoulders. She remembered feeling that resignation after coming home from a long hard day of school. When they eventually made it to the parking lot. He opened the door for them to get in. Becca slid inside, acting as the small bit of real world separating John and Victoria.
“Becca, when I said I’d move mountains to get to you, I didn’t mean this,” John said as he started the ignition.
“I didn’t mean to get into a fight,” she said.
“If you’re not looking to get into a fight, you certainly don’t throw the first punch.”
“I didn’t punch her,” Becca protested. “I don’t even know how.”
John shot her a glare as he maneuvered them out of the parking lot. “Well, according to your principal, shoving is just as bad.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” Becca said. “I only pushed her to shut her up. And then her girls stepped to me and then my girls stepped to them.”
Victoria hid her grin behind her hand as she looked out the passenger’s window.
“Jesus Christ, I don’t send you to school so you can have standoffs with the Sharks,” he muttered.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“I’m going to take Dr. Reese back to the university and when we get home, you’re going to Skype your mother and tell her what happened.”
From Victoria’s perspective, John’s approach to children waffled between tender to quick-tempered impatience. She got the feeling that Becca wasn’t used to seeing her uncle act as a hard-edged disciplinarian. Victoria sat in the truck as an interloper on a very awkward family scene, unable to say anything helpful.
