Page 10 of Curveball
He levels a hard stare at Dylan, and then at Natalie, and both squirm.
“You students have been accused of cheating on your algebra assignment on Monday of this week. As you know, this is a serious violation of school policy, and therefore”—he divides his pointed gaze between all four of us and I force myself not to shuffle in my chair—“a three-day suspension for both of you will be imposed.”
Dylan is not one to go down without a fight. I anticipate his objection and lay my hand on his arm before he can make a peep.
Bryan again lets his gaze sweep over us as a group and then continues. “As we are so near the end of the school year, you will not be allowed to make up any assignments you miss during that time.”
Murph scowls. “Now, wait a?—”
“But she didn’t do anything!” Dylan cuts in and my head slow-swivels in his direction.
Does he forget I was in the room, too? That I witnessed their actions? I vacillate between responding in my mad mom voice or my disappointed teacher voice, but who am I kidding? They’re pretty much the same.
“What are you talking about?” I’m wrong; this was definitely the teacher voice. The mom response would have been more along the lines of, “The fuck are you talking about?”
But then Natalie cuts in with, “Dylan, no!”
“Natalie, quiet, honey. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Murph assumes that regulated tone from earlier, and this time, I witness the softening of his eyes that accompanies it. It’s kind of sweet, and last night I could have easily believed he has a softer side. This morning, not so much.
Dylan’s on a roll, and clearly not intimidated that the girl’s father is in the room, no matter how many millions of people know who he is and wear his jersey.
“It wasn’t her idea. I knew she didn’t have enough time to study, so I told her to copy off my paper.”
He did fucking what?
“You didwhat?” All my good intentions fly out the window becausewhy are boys so dumb?
“You did what?” Bryan’s somewhat less incredulous voice is in sync with mine as he echoes my sentiment.
“Natalie?” Max’s jaw is clenched violently, and I’m impressed that lone word found a way to escape.
“But Daddy!”
Here we go again.
“Natalie. Is what he said true?” Max’s gaze is laser focused on his daughter, and though the vein in his neck throbs, his tone is moderate.
Natalie peers at him with tears in her eyes and her lips pouted. Max doesn’t stand a chance.
“But . . but . . he said I could copy him and I said no but then he said he didn’t want me to get a bad grade so how could I hurt his feelings when he was only trying to help?”
My head whips back and forth between Natalie and Dylan and lands on my son. “How did you know she didn’t study?”
Dylan lowers his chin and mumbles, “Because I called her and maybe we were talking until she started yawning and then maybe she told me she hadn’t studied yet but she wanted to sleep. But I didn’t know until it was already so late, I swear!”
I drop my head into my hand. How am I ever going to dig my way out of the Worst Mom Ever camp? At this rate, I have a lifetime membership, paid in full.
“Natalie, do you agree that the events are as Dylan described?” Bryan interrupts before this meeting devolves any further, but he’s stuck in his stick-up-his-butt manner.
Natalie nods, her gaze sliding sideways to view her father in her periphery. “Yes, sir.”
It’s hard to tell how Max is feeling because his expression is a blank mask.
“All right, then. It seems clear you are both at fault, and deserving of censure. Would you both agree.”
“Yes, sir.” Natalie’s and Dylan’s voices overlap in the otherwise quiet room.
