“Yeah,” I say. I knew all of that. “But why hasn’t Mr. Beck kicked him out of his office?” I’ve never seen a student be so flat-out disrespectful to Mr. Beck before. It’s not that Mr. Beck is a particularly tough man or that he’s intimidating, but most students have some kind of respect for his position and try not to tick him off. When I went to school here, the only kids that got away with much of anything are now members of Forsaken.
“After the second time Mr. Beck denied Jeremy’s permit, Jim Stone came in and personally asked Mr. Beck to approve it. He didn’t and Mr. Stone got pretty mad. I think Mr. Beck is scared of getting another visit from the president of the club.”
It all makes sense now. Mr. Beck is the typical administrator who thinks he knows better than everyone around him. He’s always avoided confrontation with the club as best he can which is why he won’t expel Cheyenne— or Jeremy for that matter— himself, but he pushes both Margot and I to do it for him. If only I had known this before I made the trip out to Grady’s house, I could have saved myself a lot of grief. I didn’t want trouble from the club, either, but I guess Mr. Beck is really only concerned about keeping his own ass out of the fire. That jerk let me chase after Grady for months— even during summer session— and he never once bothered to tell me who he is and what I was walking into.
“Jeremy’s family could use the money. Mr. Beck can’t help at all?” I ask. Sure, Nic is with one of the guys in the club now, and I’m sure he’s going to take care of her and their baby, but that doesn’t mean anything for Jeremy, I don’t think. I don’t really know anything about how the club members earn their money aside from the rumors that swirl around town. If Jeremy says he needs the job to help his family, then I trust that he does.
The door to Mr. Beck’s office swings open and Jeremy stalks out. His feet stomp into the linoleum below and he moves so fast that he clips the corner of Margot’s desk on the way out. With a angry push, the main door to the office flies open and he rushes out, letting the door slam behind him. Margot and I jump in place and move back into place to pretend like we’ve been working the entire time.
It’s just a moment later when Mr. Beck is standing at the end of the hallway. His face is red and in an agitated voice he says, “Holly, can you come in my office, please?”
With a deep breath, I stand from my seat and cross the room, following behind Mr. Beck and into his office. My head is still pounding, but I try to push my own misery out of my head and just deal with whatever it is the boss man wants. He sits behind his desk and folds his arms over his chest. I’m not terribly happy with him right now and don’t want to be in here any longer than I absolutely need to, so I opt for closing the door and leaning against the nearby wall.
“Everything okay, Dick?” I say. Richard Beck asks his colleagues to call him Dick, but he’s never once asked me to. Margot calls him Mr. Beck so I assume he hasn’t asked her to, either. The fact that he doesn’t see me as equal to him has never really bothered me until this moment.
"Holly, where are we at with Cheyenne Grady's expulsion?"
Mr. Beck knows damn well that I don't intend to file paperwork to have Cheyenne expelled. He and I have had this conversation already. In fact, we have had this conversation several times, and I guess it still hasn't seeped into his thick skull. I never had any trouble with Mr. Beck when I was a student. He was always just the principal – a distant authority figure who let the fact that he was underpaid and overworked be known to just about everybody he came in contact with. But Mr. Beck has shown himself to be a real nitwit. He's far too scared to expel Cheyenne Grady on his own, and he's not compassionate enough to give her a break. No, that's why he sends his staff out to do a job we are not paid to do.
"Her expulsion is on hold. Mr. Grady signed the counseling acknowledgment form and Cheyenne knows that she's expected at Saturday school this weekend." It wasn't easy getting that stupid form signed, but it has been, so the job got done. If I spend too long to think about it, I'll come to the conclusion that Mr. Beck never expected me to get Grady to sign the form, and that is just going to piss me off. So instead, I pretend that he's not that big of a tool, even if I know in my heart that he is.
"You got Sterling Grady to sign that form? After months of trying, he finally did it? Does this mean that the rumors are true, that you're seeing Sterling Grady? " he asks. His eyes are wide, his mouth has fallen, and his face goes blank. And whatever tiny little bit of hope that I had that Dick isn't actually a dick vanishes. I should have known that with the way Margot dances around the subject that Mr. Beck would eventually hear the rumors.