Page 67 of A Scandal in Homeroom
“They don’t want trouble. This,” she said, pointing at her face, “is trouble.”
“Here you go,” Croft announced, as he returned from the kitchen. “I’ve brought you multiple ice packs. One for your jaw, the other for your eye. Plus a shot of whiskey. Take the shot first. Trust me, it will help.”
Irene didn’t hesitate, although she let out a gasp as the liquid hit her throat.
“It’s strong stuff,” I noted. “But it should take the edge off a little bit.”
Taking the packs from Croft, I gently placed them in Irene’s hands. She winced as she applied them to her face. “Lean back. It will be easier for you.”
I positioned her so she was laid out along the couch. I removed her sneakers then fetched her a blanket.
“What else do you need?” I asked.
“A story. Time. Something to hold off the Sumners.”
“Croft,” I said. “I need you to call her foster parents. I’m struggling desperately with AP Chemistry and if Irene doesn’t spend the night helping me to cram for the test tomorrow, I’ll likely fail.”
“I can do that.”
“Croft,” I said firmly. “I need you to beyou. No, is not an option.”
“I’ll make it worth their while.”
“Not too much,” Irene said, the icepacks now secured to her face. “Mr. Sumner doesn’t like to feel like he’s being paid off for something. And it has to be him. Mrs. Sumner won’t make any decisions without him.”
“Got it,” Croft said, pulling out his mobile. Irene rattled off the number and he punched it in then waited for someone to pick up. “Mr. Sumner? Yes, yes. I’m Croft Holmes. We haven’t met but our wards share a class at the high school. Sir, I’m afraid I’m desperate. Can I bend your ear for a minute? Do you have the time? Good. Excellent.”
Croft left the living room, moving to the kitchen while he continued to talk to Mr. Sumner.
Irene groaned and I went back to her side, gently sitting on the edge of the couch so as not to jostle her. “This won’t work. Mr. Sumner would never let me spend the night with a boy. He knows about my mom. He thinks it’s his mission to put me on the straighter path.”
I could hear Croft still jabbering on, so Sumner hadn’t said no yet. “Croft has got a way about him. When he wants something, there are very few people in this world who can deny him.”
He came back into the living room still talking, holding another shot of whiskey. This one, I presumed, for himself.
“Oh, yes. I’ll be here the entire time monitoring them. I don’t allow for any shenanigans under my roof, if you take my meaning. This is strictly a study effort, but as I anticipate it going long into the night, I don’t feel comfortable sending Irene home at such a late hour. I shouldIalso tell you, if Locke does manage to pass this course, I shall reward her greatly! Nothing less than a fifty-dollar Amazon Gift Card will do.”
Irene’s lips twitched at that. “Perfect,” she whispered.
The call ended and Croft nodded. “You’ve got the night, but you’ll likely still have a shiner in the morning.”
“If the swelling is down, I can pass it off as a cheerleading accident. Star can report it, so it’s official.”
Croft came over to stand by us. His eyes on Irene as if he was assessing for himself how badly she’d been hurt.
“I don’t care for thugs who hit girls. Even if they deserve it. Did you deserve it?”
Irene nodded, then resettled her ice packs. “They told me not to do something and I did it anyway. I’m not sure what happens now.”
“Locke, a word,” Croft said.
I got up from the couch and followed him into the kitchen. I knew Croft well enough that this wasn’t going to be some kind of dressing down. A warning to stay away from the kind of trouble Irene was in. We tended to walk into trouble, go where others stayed far away.
“So I take it that’sher,” Croft said.
“It is.”
“You weren’t wrong. She’s quite beautiful, bruising aside. I’m not going to ask too many questions.”
