I walk back to the counter and announce myself to the woman behind the counter.
“You can go in and see Mr. Lumsden now.”
I remember the days I would spend in the principal’s office, waiting for my mom to come and get me. The first few times I would get into trouble, grounded. But those quickly stopped and all she would do is cry. I couldn’t stop her tears, no matter how hard I tried.
I knock once and open the door. I’m anxious and want to get the kids out of here. The principal stands and shakes my hand. We both sit. He makes a teepee with this fingers and acts like he’s thinking about what he needs to tell me.
“Mr. James, there is never an easy way to say this, but your son has been in a fight.”
“Obviously,” I reply, shortly.
“We take fighting very seriously here at Beaumont Elementary and we don’t condone violence.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
Mr. Lumsden shakes his head. “Sadly, the children aren’t talking. All I’ve been able to figure out is that there was some name calling and actions taken with hands.”
“Is he suspended?”
“Three days.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. The principal may not be able to figure o
ut what happened, but I will. “And what about Peyton Powell?”
Mr. Lumsden picks up a piece of paper and studies it. “It says here that you’ll be taking her home?”
“Yes, but I need to know what to tell her mother.”
“Well, Mr. James, she’s a mystery. She won’t talk to anyone and has asked that she go home with Quinn. We usually don’t oblige students, but she’s prone to outbursts, and we feel in this situation it’s just best to send her home for the day.”
“Got it, thanks,” I say as I get out of the chair. I throw open the door and both kids jump. “Grab your stuff, let’s go,” I demand. They both stand, shouldering their backpacks and follow me out to the car.
The ride back to Liam’s is quiet and every time I look in the rear view mirror, they’re looking at each other. I can’t imagine what they’re plotting, but it won’t work. They exit the car quietly and follow me in the house.
“Downstairs, Quinn,” I say angrily. Quinn looks at Peyton before she heads into the kitchen. For the life of me, I can’t imagine why he would want to hurt another child. He knows how I feel about violence. I flip the switch in the studio, turning on the lights. He passes me and sits down on Liam’s stool.
I pull JD’s stool forward and sit across from him. “Spill it.”
“I can’t because I made a promise, and you said to always keep my promises.”
He’s right, I did. “I’ve also told you there are exceptions, and this is one of those times. What happened in school today?”
Quinn looks away from me and sighs. “My friend was being bullied on the playground and I asked the other person… ya know, the one being mean to stop, and he didn’t. He was saying all these really mean things, and my friend was crying. The boy touched my friend and my friend said it hurt so I hit him.”
Quinn doesn’t look at me when he tells me the story. I think he’s probably afraid of what my expression is or what my reaction is going to be. What he doesn’t know is that I’m extremely proud and angry at the same time. Violence is never the answer, but sticking up for your friends is. He knows what I went through, and I made him promise he’d always stick up for those who need help.
I tap his leg to get his attention. He turns and looks at me with tears dripping down his face. “I can’t be mad at you. I am disappointed that you turned to violence, but I understand. I don’t know what your punishment will be until I’ve sat and thought about it some more.”
I get up and pull him into my arms. Everything that I couldn’t be when I was younger, he is and he makes me incredibly proud to be his dad. I sit back down and move his hair from his eyes.
“Is Peyton hurt?”
“How’d you know it was her?” he asks, his face full of shock.
“Good guess,” I say, trying to bite back the smile forming.
“She doesn’t want anyone to know.”