18. Christian
CHRISTIAN
C assandra didn’t look up from her phone during the drive to the school. Every so often, I’d glance over and find her looking at the school website, deep-diving into the administration, and scouring the dress code that was digitized thanks to the district.
“I’m probably just gonna have to sign her out for the day,” I said, instead of telling Cassandra that having it out with an administrator in front of my thirteen-year-old was a bad idea.
Cassandra laughed. “Nice try. I’m going in with you.”
I pulled into a visitor’s space and threw the truck into park. “Cass?—”
“Listen to me.” Blonde hair swished across her back as she turned in the seat to face me. “You want to be a good dad? Stand up for your kid instead of being amicable. Don’t teach her to play dead just because you don’t want to be confrontational.”
I ran my tongue over my teeth to keep from admitting how much that stung.
She yanked on the door handle and pushed it open, but I was faster. I rounded the front of the truck and caught the edge of the door in my palm. “You know better than to open your own door.”
Her lips turned up in a victorious smile. “I got your ass out of the seat, didn’t I?”
I slammed the door shut as soon as her high heels hit the asphalt. “You’d better use your powers for good in there, Parker.”
“Just because I don’t sugarcoat things doesn’t mean I’m a heartless bitch. I’m only a bitch for good causes,” she said, her words on tempo with the tip tap of her shoes. “I’m a vigilante bitch.”
I paused in front of the glass double doors. “Just… Give me a minute to see what’s going on before you rip this old woman to shreds.”
Her lips curled up in a wicked smirk. “I am feeling a little peckish. A little aged meat might tide me over until dinner.”
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered as I pulled my cowboy hat off and handed it to Cassandra. “Mind holding that for a second?”
I quickly yanked my hair out of the elastic and tied it back in a neater bun.
Her painted fingertips were hanging onto the hat by the brim.
“Like this,” I said as I took it back by the crown. “Don’t wanna bend the brim. Always hold it by the top.”
She was unamused. “It’s a hat.”
“Yes, it is. There’s etiquette around them. Respect it.”
Cassandra looked taken aback.
I sighed and scrubbed my hand down my beard. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to yell at you.”
She laughed. “If you think that’s yelling, then I hope you never have to see me order from a deli. I’ll scare the shit out of you.” Her eyes darkened, but amusement glinted in them like stars in a twilight sky. “But for the record—I wouldn’t be opposed to you bossing me around, cowboy.”
I yanked open the door to the school office. “Are you flirting with me?”
“Yes. That should be obvious. Now shut up and let me do the talking.”
I put my hand on the small of her back and led her through the next set of doors. “You have to stop telling people to shut up.”
Bree was sitting in a chair along the interior wall of the school office. Tears streaked her cheeks as her feet bounced nervously on the carpeted floor.
Fuck.
She looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes and whispered, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“Mr. Griffith,” Tanya, the receptionist, said as I scrawled my name and Cassandra’s across the visitor’s clipboard. “Principal Beeker will be with you shortly. Please have a seat.”
Cassandra positioned herself as a sentry beside Bree. “Sit up straight and stop fidgeting,” she clipped under her breath. “You look guilty.”
I knelt in front of Bree, pulled a handkerchief out of my pocket, and handed it to her. “What happened, baby?”
She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Principal Beeker was the sub for my English class today and said my shirt was too low and it was distracting.”
“Well, that’s bullshit,” Cassandra scoffed, making every head in the office snap to attention.
I had a feeling that scene I was trying hard to avoid was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not.
Keys jingled down the hall—the foreboding sound of the principal approaching.
“I hate schools,” Cassandra muttered as she looked around. “It’s like a prison. No wonder the adults act like wardens.”
“That’s her,” Bree whispered to Cassandra as Principal Beeker strolled through the office like she owned the place.
“Don’t say a word,” Cassandra hissed. “Make her talk first. Nine times out of ten people will dig their own graves. Let them.”
“Is this really the time to be teaching my daughter how to manipulate people?” I whispered as we were led into the principal’s office.
“Yes,” Cassandra whispered back. “And I prefer to call it ‘controlling the narrative.’ Manipulation has such a negative connotation.”
“Cass—”
She paused in the doorway, anger flaring in her eyes as she whispered, “This isn’t about her clothes.”
“It’s unfortunate that we’re interrupting our day to have this meeting,” Principal Beeker said as she lifted her chained bifocals to the tip of her nose.
“Bree was told that she could return to class when she changed into something more appropriate, so I’m not sure why we’re all here. ” She eyed Cassandra. “Or who you are.”
I was fully expecting Cassandra to take the bait, but she didn’t make a peep. Her face was passive. Her body was relaxed. The only tell that she was nervous was the way she trailed her finger along the edge of her phone.
This was the part of parenting I hated .
I cleared my throat. “I teach my girls to follow the rules, and we make sure their clothes abide by the dress code.”
“Well,” Principal Beeker said with a gleeful smile. “Children can be deceptive. Perhaps Bree left home wearing something else this morning, then changed into—” she wagged her finger in Bree’s direction “—this.”
“I didn’t?—”
Before Bree could argue, Cassandra cupped a hand over her mouth. “What did I tell you on the phone?” she hissed
Bree looked up at her and nodded, and Cassandra removed her hand.
“Don’t take the bait,” Cassandra whispered.
“No,” I said to the principal. “This is what Bree was wearing when I dropped her off this morning, so please think twice before you call my daughter a liar again.”
Bree looked up at me with wide eyes.
Principal Beeker huffed. “The fact of the matter is that she’s out of dress code.”
“How?” Cassandra pressed. “Because according to the dress code, blouse necklines are to be no lower than three inches below the lowest point of the clavicle. Now, I’m more familiar with things that are bigger than three inches, but I can see how you may be more in tune to things of that size.”
I choked on an impulsive laugh.
“Would you like to get a ruler?” Cassandra looked around. “This is a place of learning, after all. I’m sure there’s one around.”
Principal Beeker settled behind her desk and folded her hands together.
“While her blouse may fit the technical dress code guidelines,” she began pragmatically.
“It’s my job to interpret those guidelines to make sure that students aren’t a distraction to their peers.
” She looked at me with a snide smile. “You know how boys can be at this age.”
I glanced at Cassandra, expecting to see her about to go nuclear, but she was smiling.
That was way worse.
“Why don’t you save us all some time and say why you thought the situation was so dire that Bree’s learning had to be interrupted to protect a small segment of her class from being ‘distracted?’” Cassandra said, backing the principal into a metaphorical corner.
Principal Beeker huffed. “Bree has developed womanly features sooner than most of her female peers. The blouses that smaller girls may be able to wear within the dress code are simply inappropriate on her body.”
Bree’s face turned beet red.
Before I could speak up, Cassandra did. “Let’s cut the crap.
This isn’t about the dress code, which—for the record—is not up for interpretation.
Bree hasn’t violated the rules, which you just admitted yourself.
But I think the school board would be very interested to hear about how the administration has been sexualizing the minors under their care.
Underage students show up to this school, intending to have a safe place to learn.
But instead, they’re judged by adults in positions of power based on how quickly their bodies are developing, and pulled from class because of it. ”
My throat went dry.
Principal Beeker looked like she was about to explode.
Bree crossed her arms over her stomach and hunched over, trying to hide herself.
Cassandra gave her a nudge, and Bree sat up straight.
“I’m looking out for the reputation of the school and the good of the students,” Principal Beeker said.
Cassandra smiled. “You and I both know that’s not the case.
Either you’re a principal on a power trip—” her voice turned lethal “—or you’re an adult in a position of power over a minor, and chose to cause a scene in her classroom, making her a distraction to her peers after you assessed her genitals. ”
Tears flooded Bree’s eyes, and rage boiled up in my gut. I wanted to grab her and run, leaving Cassandra to have her cage match with the principal.
Then, Cassandra took Bree’s hand and squeezed.
My heart lurched.
The flight instincts slammed to a halt, and I saw Cassandra passing some of her fight to Bree.
“Just who do you think you are, coming into my office and making these outlandish accusations?” Principal Beeker gasped.
“I’m the Griffith family’s publicist,” Cassandra snapped as she tapped the screen of her phone with her thumb and turned it to show the principal.
“And while this little repartee has been fun, I’m getting rather bored of dealing with you.
Frankly, you disgust me. I think the best course of action would be for Bree to go back to class and for you not to try me, don’t you? ”
A recording icon ticked away steadily on Cassandra’s phone. She had the principal dead to rights, and she had evidence.
Principal Beeker’s nails clawed at the heavy wooden desk. “You can’t come in here and record a private conversation! That’s illegal!”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Cassandra said with a rather bored tone in her voice as her phone continued to record.
“You see, Texas is a one-party consent state, and I consented to recording this conversation. And before you bring up the reasonable expectation of privacy, there’s no reasonable expectation of privacy in a school office with the door open after you humiliated my girl in front of her entire class. ”
I was starting to wonder if bringing Cass was a great idea or if it was about to bankrupt me. I didn’t have the kind of petty cash on hand to pay her bail when she murdered this woman.
But the way Bree radiated with energy when Cassandra said “my girl” was worth every penny I had to my name.
Principal Beeker scoffed. “You think you’re going to—what? Run a smear campaign against me?”
“I have no hobbies and, frankly, hate the outdoors. Living on a ranch is my version of hell.” Cassandra grinned like a dragon about to breathe fire.
“So trust me when I say that a smear campaign is child’s play for me.
I have all the time in the world to do it.
I’ll run for the school board and my first order of business will be to have your head served on a silver platter.
I’ll personally use your resignation letter as my napkin.
You wanna look up my track record? The last political campaign I worked on was a senate race and the man ended up in the president’s cabinet after three months. I dare you to try me.”
The silence was dangerous. The room buzzed with the kind of electricity that pulses before a storm. The office outside was deadly quiet. Every ear was turned in our direction.
Principal Beeker’s eyes turned to Bree, and it took everything in me to keep from throttling the judgmental old bat for looking at my kid.
“Bree, get a hall pass from Miss Tanya and go to your fourth period class. We’re done here,” she said as she stood.
Bree hurried out with a quiet, “yes, ma’am.”
I took Cassandra’s hand—mostly to keep her from launching herself at the principal—and laced our fingers together.
“Don’t make me come back here, Bonna,” Cassandra stated with a pointed finger, leaving the old lady fuming.
Principal Beeker’s first name was Bonna?
As much as I wanted to see them fight it out to the death, I dragged Cassandra out and caught Bree as she was leaving the office.
“I’m sorry, daddy,” she said as she wrapped her arms around me, clutching her hall pass.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I said as I let go of Cassandra’s hand and held her tight. “That was hard, and I’m proud of you for sitting through it.”
She sniffed. “Thanks for coming.” Before I could say another word, she leaped to Cassandra and hugged her. “Thank you.”
Cassandra hugged her back, then cupped her cheeks, wiping away Bree’s tears. “Head up high. People will whisper. Those people might be teachers. That doesn’t give you a right to talk back. They can only get you in trouble if you break the rules. Don’t give them that opportunity.”
Bree nodded and touched the necklace Cassandra had given her this morning.
“We’ll debrief when you get home,” Cassandra said.
“I love you,” I said as I kissed Bree’s head.
She seemed a little brighter as she said, “Love you too, daddy.” She gave Cassandra a little wave. “Thanks for coming, Miss Cass.”
“Anytime.”
We walked out to the truck in silence. Neither of us said a peep as I headed back to the ranch. The truck bumped and bobbed as the pavement turned to gravel, then to dirt.
I had a lot of shit to do, but my head wasn’t in it. Not when I was stuck on the woman in the passenger’s seat.
“If you’re expecting me to apologize, don’t hold your breath,” Cassandra said as she unbuckled her seatbelt.
I slammed my door with a little more force than necessary. I had been replaying the showdown at the school in my head on the drive back.
To my surprise, Cassandra waited for me to open her door. I curled my fingers around the metal edge to keep from reaching for her as she slid down and adjusted the hem of her dress.
I wanted it off.
“From the looks of it, no one has ever put that bitch in her place. It was overdue. I was performing a public service.” Her shoes clicked as she scaled each step. The swing of her ass was hypnotizing.
The front door to my house was unlocked—because it always was—and Cassandra strolled inside like she owned the damn place.
“I swear, if Bree tells me that one fucking comment was made about her after today, I’ll burn the place down.”
And then my self-control snapped.