“I’m on my way.” I press end and pocket my phone. I bump into my drums as I move out from behind them. I knew public school was a bad choice, but my mom assured me Quinn would do well.
I take the stairs two at time and run to my car. I take a deep breath before starting it. My phone goes off again. I hit answer without even looking at it.
“What are you doing right now?” Liam asks.
I pull out of his driveway and head toward the school. “I’m heading to school. Something’s wrong with Quinn.”
“Oh boy,” Liam says. “Listen, the Principal just called and said that Peyton needs to come home. Josie and I are her standby when Mr. Powell can’t get the girls, and he’s not home. I’ll let them know you’re picking her up. I believe Katelyn added you to the list.”
My heartbeat picks up again. “We should call Katelyn.”
“No, we shouldn’t. She needs this vacation and he didn’t say what was wrong, so it might be nothing. Just go get her and take her back to the house.”
He hangs up before I have a chance to say anything. I try not to think about what both of them could’ve done for the principal to call, but I’m about to find out. I pull into the parking lot and take the closest spot I can find. I’m not sure my feet even hit the pavement as I run into the school and into the office.
“Dad!”
I spin around and find Quinn and Peyton sitting in chairs along the wall. Both of them have their backpacks sitting on the floor. I give Quinn a good hard look. He stands and shakes his head.
“It doesn’t hurt,” he says, stepping closer.
“You have a black eye.”
“It’s my fault,” Peyton says quietly.
“No it’s not, Peyton, stop saying that.” Quinn says through gritted teeth. Peyton looks like she’s about to cry, which spurs my desire to be there for her. She crosses her arms and looks away from me.
I put my hand on Quinn’s shoulder and give it a light squeeze. “Go sit down, I’ll find out what’s going on, okay?”
“You’ll be mad.”
I sigh and nod. “Thanks for the warning, buddy.”
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 out 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.”