We’re at the juncture at the hall—the one where we split into different directions to go to our first class. It’s harder than usual to say goodbye but before I get too far, I hear, “Mr. Falco, Mr. Hollingsworth, you’re needed in the office.”
The person speaking is Mrs. Cline from the guidance office. The two boys share a look and the line on Jake’s forehead deepens.
“What for?” he asks.
“Not my business, Mr. Hollingsworth, but you need to go there before class.”
“Probably just our schedules,” Dex says.
“Go,” I say. “I’ll talk to you at lunch.”
The guys follow Mrs. Cline down the hall and I head the opposite way, thinking that even though it stinks that we can’t see each other at home, at least they can’t force us apart at school.
4
Dexter
I don’t think much about being called into the office until I see George and Charlie sitting on the uncomfortable chairs. They both look up as we walk in, eyebrows raising identically. My first reaction is relief. I’m just happy to see them in one piece—the way they were taken from the house the week before was unfortunate. So much yelling, and Sierra made it clear I wasn’t to get involved.
“Hey,” I say, knocking fists and then taking the seat across from them. Jake does the same, squeezing in the chair too small for his broad frame. His legs take up half the floor space. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Mrs. Cline stopped us when we got off the bus.”
I share a look with Jake. “Yeah,” I say. “us too.”
“How’s it been going?” Jake asks.
George shrugs and Charlie glares at the floor.
“It’s fine,” George finally says. “Small. Our dad is being okay, I guess. I’m still not sure why he even wants us there.”
“Because he’s a control freak,” Charlie quietly. “I think he doesn’t like the idea of us doing well without him.”
“Really?” I ask. I don’t know much about Mr. Evans, other than he’s a prick who has a temper worse than my own.
“Yeah, I do. I think that once he heard George was playing football and staying out of trouble and that I had some options for getting into college that didn’t depend on him, he wanted back in our lives. When we were a hot mess, he didn’t care.”
Charlie’s bitterness is palpable but George leans forward and asks, “How’s Sierra?”
“Upset,” I say. “She feels awful about everything.”
“It’s not her fault,” George says. “She’s an awesome foster mom.”
Charlie looks at Jake. “Do you think Christina did this?”
“I think it’s likely.”
“How’s Starlee?” George asks.
“Coping. She’s taking the blame as much as Sierra,” I explain. “But I’ve only seen her once and out in the hall just now. Things are tense back home.”
Charlie’s frown deepens. “This whole thing is wrong, you know that? Totally wrong.”
“Boys.” Mrs. Baxter, the guidance counselor, comes out of her office. She has a stack of papers in her hands. “I’ve heard about the shake-up at home and talked to your social workers and Ms. Falco. There’s been a request from everyone involved to shift your schedules so that you’re no longer in the same class as Starlee Jones.”
“You’re kidding?” I jump out of my seat. Mrs. Baxter gives me a hard look and I step back. “Starlee hasn’t done anything.”
“You’re seriously going to disrupt our schedules over this?” Charlie asks. “Because someone wants to pretend Starlee is a problem. She’s not an issue.”