The school would slant this as Isaiah’s incompetence at time management and organization. It was the opposite of losing respectfully.
This was playing with his future. Just like Jenkins wanted.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
His eyes stung as he stared at his phone.
He felt miserable and stuck, and on top of that, he hated how he’d treated Darren.
None of this was Darren’s fault, and the hurt in his eyes wasn’t going to leave Isaiah anytime soon.
He scrubbed his face and finished his water. Nothing was going to get solved sitting here. He needed to take a walk and apologize to Darren for being an asshole.
Darren
“Thanks, I owe you.” Darren ended the call and entered the admin building. This shit had to stop. He had no idea if Jenkins would meet with him, but he had to try.
Yes, he wanted to win, but he wanted to do so in a way that didn’t ruin Isaiah’s life. And that wasn’t being dramatic. If Isaiah got booted from the competition, that would follow him as surely as failing out.
The administrative assistant glanced up from her computer screen. He liked her only slightly more than he did Jenkins. She had that same attitude as her boss. Probably why she worked for him. But she understood who he was, and he needed that perk right now.
“May I help you?”
“Hi, Darren Gage to see President Jenkins.”
Her sour expression told him what she thought of his request. “You don’t have an appointment.”
“Really? My dad told me they’d spoken and President Jenkins wanted to see me.” Let her chew on that. So what if it was bullshit. She wouldn’t have time to find out otherwise.
She looked at her screen. “He didn’t mention it to me, and he didn’t add anything to his calendar.”
“I can call my dad and let him know this was a mistake.”
“Hold on,” she said with a new sense of urgency. “Let me ask him. Please have a seat.”
“Thank you so much.” He was pleased that he actually sounded grateful instead of nervous—or worse, condescending.
The picture of his great-great-grandfather called to him. He stared up into the man’s eyes. Darren Sr. had died before he’d been born, but his grandfather talked about him enough, it was like he knew him. He was a man with a strong sense of fairness for those less fortunate. It was why he founded the school and endowed it so well. Hopefully, Darren would make him proud.
The assistant waved him over. “He has a few minutes to speak to you.”
Darren nodded and exhaled. “Wish me luck,” he whispered to the painting.
The walk into Jenkins’s office felt like he was approaching the throne. Jenkins sat behind his desk. He had his coat off and his glasses perched on the end of his nose.
“Ah, Darren. I think there is some miscommunication. I never spoke to your father. Do you know what this meeting is about?”
“Yes, sir. I spoke to him about the Scholar program scheduling. It seems someone keeps picking dates that conflict with Mr. Nettles’s schedule. Isaiah has a test on the day of our next appointment.”
“Yes. So Mr. Nettles said.” He folded his hands in front of him. “Why are you talking to your father about that?”
“Dad is all about this being a fair competition. He expects me to win on merit. Dad feels so strongly about this that he’s having Isaiah stay at the house this weekend for the Gage Scholar Dinner.”
Surprise flickered over Jenkins’s face. “Is that right?”
“Yes, sir. You can call him and ask if you like, although when I expressed some disagreement with those arrangements, he didn’t appreciate me questioning him.”
“No, I imagine your father wouldn’t want you questioning his decisions.”
“Not at all.” Darren kept his voice even as he subtly drove his point home. “My father’s used to people doing what he tells them. Anyway, I was hoping you would change the date or time to ensure Isaiah doesn’t have to pick between failing a class or missing the meeting?”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Nettles didn’t provide us with his full schedule. We selected the date that worked for everyone else.”
Another lie, but one he expected. “Odd, I thought both our schedules were emailed to everyone involved.”
“As I said, it wasn’t complete.”
“Right. My apologies, you did say that. That aside, I’m sure you could help fix this.”
“It’s not really up to me.” His computer made a noise, and Jenkins spared a glance. “Hold on a moment, please.”
He clicked his mouse, and his eyes moved back and forth as he read. Clicking again, he typed rapidly, almost pounding the keyboard. Another mouse click, and he looked up.
“It appears you’ll get your wish, Darren.” His phony smile made Darren’s skin itch. “Fred writes that he has a conflicting meeting in Texas that day and won’t be back in time. He gave me an alternative date that works. What about the following Wednesday?”