Chapter 4
Cooper
Fifteen minutes later, Mrs. Tsuru called Madeline and me into her office. She sat at her desk, hands folded, a judge about to deliver a verdict.
Four chairs were positioned in front of the desk and our parents perched in the middle two. Was it normal for them to be sitting together like that?
Madeline’s dad looked like a politician: tall, lean, with brown hair that was graying at the temples, the sort of guy who pretended to care about you to get your vote. And he was sitting next to my mom.
After we joined our parents, Mrs. Tsuru told Madeline she had to return my clothes and any other possessions of mine that she had. Since the car needed to be driven across the grass to reach the parking lot, I would have to pay for repairing any damage to the grass.
Bag of grass seed. I could handle that.
Then Mrs. Tsuru lectured us about the evils of our shenanigans—her word—and how the school couldn’t allow them to continue.
If the woman had ever had a sense of humor, she’d ditched it before she took this job.
She went on about how the school could come down hard on us—suspend or even expel us—but I knew she wouldn’t go that far.
Mrs. Tsuru couldn’t expel me without expelling Madeline, and no way was the principal getting rid of Mr. Moneybags’s kid.
Besides, my mother would be acting a lot more upset if she thought the principal was about to kick me off the football team. Mom sat there calmly enough, no sign of the earlier enraged woman who’d ripped into me in the waiting room.
“Fortunately for you,” Mrs. Tsuru went on, “I’ve decided to go easy on you.”
Yep. Mr. Moneybags had just made another donation.
Mrs. Tsuru steepled her fingers. “You may have noticed that the tiger tracks on the walkway by the parking lot have faded. As a punishment, the two of you will stay after school today and repaint them.”
I shifted in my chair. “Can we do that on Saturday instead? I’ve got football practice after school.”
“And I’ve got drama rehearsal,” Madeline put in.
Mrs. Tsuru smiled in satisfaction. “No, you can’t.
You’re going to miss your after-school activities today.
You’ll use that time to beautify the school and sort out your differences like rational human beings.
” She gazed at us over the rims of her glasses.
“I actually expect you to talk things out. If there are any more pranks”—her gaze turned to me ominously—“you’ll no longer be the school’s starting quarterback. ”
Harsh. And effective. I couldn’t help but gulp.
The principal’s eyes went to Madeline. “And you won’t be—” She paused. “What’s the next drama production?”
“Hello, Dolly!,” Madeline answered.
“You won’t be Dolly-ing around the stage anymore. Is that clear?”
Madeline nodded meekly. “Yes.”
Mrs. Tsuru lifted her eyebrows at me, waiting for my response.
“Yes,” I said.
“Good. I’m glad we’ve reached this understanding.” Mrs. Tsuru stood up, signaling the end of the meeting.
Mr. Seibold stood next. “Thank you for your leniency. I think Madeline and Cooper would both like to apologize to you now.”
Seriously, the dude thought he could just tell me what to say and when to say it? While Madeline put on an Oscar--worthy performance of solemn “I’m sorrys,” I wished I could ditch this place without saying anything.
Madeline ended, and my mom gave me a firm look. “Cooper,” she prodded.
“Sorry.” I knew I had to come up with more than one word. “I shouldn’t have moved Madeline’s car, or p-lastic--wrapped it, or hemmed up her Maria costume so it looked like she was wearing a nun miniskirt.”
Madeline’s eyes went wide. “You did that? I thought the costume people messed up.”
I dipped my chin. “I didn’t interrupt you during your apology.”
Madeline blew out a breath and folded her arms. “I don’t know whether to be furious or impressed that you know how to sew.”
Sheesh. Shouldn’t have surprised her. When you’re poor, you develop a lot of skills. “Anyway,” I said, cutting her off from recounting how I’d ruined her opening night. “I’m sorry about all of the stuff. There. Are we good?”
My mother narrowed her eyes at me. Apparently we were not good.
Mrs. Tsuru sat back down in her seat and shook her head like she was contemplating how many more years she had left until retirement, and it was far too many.
“We will talk more about this later.” Mom dug through her purse, fished out her car keys, and held them out to me. “When you’re done painting, take my car to your job.”
I reluctantly took the keys. “If I have the car, how will you get home?”
“I’ll drive her,” Mr. Seibold said. “We’re going out to eat while we discuss the situation further.”
The two of them were going out to eat, like on a date? That was all sorts of wrong. “What else is there to discuss?” I asked. “We’re being punished. We’re sorry.”
Madeline put her hand to her chest. “I’m deeply regretful.”
Her father gave her a cool, disbelieving look. “The school has issued a punishment. That doesn’t mean you won’t have further consequences from your parents.” He strolled to the door and waited for my mother to join him.
“But that’s double jeopardy,” Madeline put in. “You shouldn’t prosecute someone twice for the same crime.”
He chuckled and held the door open for my mother. “Nice try. A criminal court ruling doesn’t preclude a civil court ruling, or for that matter, parental grounding.”
My mom glanced over her shoulder at me. “If I’m not home when you get back from work, don’t worry. Tate and I have a lot to talk about. We’ll probably be out for a while.”
And then the two of them swept out of the room.
This was bad in so many ways. My life should never intersect with Madeline’s outside of school. Not even a little.
Besides, my parents had only been divorced for three months. That was barely even all the way divorced. She shouldn’t be dating random guys from spin class.
The thing was, I could tell my dad still wanted to reconcile. Whenever he called me, he asked about her. Repeatedly.
Any way you looked at it, Mr. Seibold needed to stay out of the picture.