The Perfect Son by Freida McFadden(11)
Liam is also very competitive. I don’t know how much he cares about debate per se, but he definitely cares about winning. Whenever he does well in a track meet or a debate, he’s in a great mood. But if he doesn’t do well, he gets quiet and won’t talk much that evening. Fortunately for him, he’s very good at winning. And he’s very good at getting what he wants.
I won’t let him have what he wants this time.
Liam’s eyes light up when he sees me walking over to congratulate him. “Did you see, Mom? We won! We get to go to State!”
I grin at him. “You did great.”
He loosens his tie, which makes him look older than sixteen. Unlike when he was eight, he knows how to tie his own tie now—no more clip-ons. I watched him practicing it in a mirror a couple of years ago until he could do it perfect. “Thanks.”
Before I can say anything else, Mrs. Randall links her arm into mine and pulls me away from my son. Mrs. Randall is a history teacher who is also in charge of the debate team. She taught Liam American history during his freshman year, and was the one who encouraged him to join the debate team. I remember Liam got an A+ in the class, and the comment on his report card was that he was the best student in the class. Hannah has her now for American history, but based on Hannah’s recent comment that Mrs. Randall is a “bitch,” I have a feeling my daughter won’t be getting a similar grade.
“Mrs. Cass!” Mrs. Randall is almost glowing from the win, her gray hair coming loose from her sensible bun. “Liam was great out there, wasn’t he?”
I nod, although I’m distracted by the fact that Liam has gone over to talk to Olivia again. “Yes. I know he’s been practicing a lot.”
“He is so diligent. I wish all my students had that sort of work ethic.” She smiles at me. She is solidly in the Liam Cass fan club. “Next stop is Albany! And I bet we’ll get to Nationals this year. That will look great on his resume when he applies to college.”
Yes, in less than two years, Liam will be going away to college. I can’t even think about it. The thought of him being alone and up to his own devices terrifies me.
“That’s wonderful,” I say.
The smile slips slightly from her lips. “By the way, I hate to bring this up now, but Hannah has missed several of her homework assignments this month.”
It’s the only thing she could have said to tear my attention away from Liam and Olivia. “She… she did?”
Mrs. Randall nods slowly. “Each missed homework subtracts from her overall grade. And her last test score was…”
“I know.” I wince, thinking of the red score on Hannah’s history exam that required my signature. Unlike Liam, Hannah has never been a strong student, but high school is proving to be even worse than middle school so far. “I’ll talk to her about it and make sure she shows me her homework every night.”
“I’m certain she can turn things around.” Mrs. Randall looks back over at Liam, then back at me. “I’m sure she has it in her.”
I know what she’s implying, but Hannah is nothing like Liam. She doesn’t look like him and her personality is completely different. Mrs. Randall isn’t the first teacher who has been disappointed by the discrepancy.
But not every teacher loves my son. He’s gotten so much better at charming adults, but some of them can see right through him. There was one in particular about three years ago. That’s a mess I don’t want to think about ever again. When I remember what Liam did…
I’ve got to talk to Frank. Tonight.
Chapter 10
Erika
“Mom! Mom, are you listening to me?”
My head snaps up from the dishes in the sink. Hannah is supposed to be unloading the dishwasher while I clean the pots, but instead, she’s spent the last several minutes ranting about some girl in her math class named Ashley. I’ve been so absorbed in the events of today that I guess I tuned her out. I have no idea what Hannah has said in the last several minutes. I close my eyes, hoping I can rewind the ribbon in my brain, but I can’t. Whatever Hannah said is gone forever.
“Um,” I finally say.
“I knew it!” Hannah looks triumphant. “You weren’t listening to me. You never listen to me.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Fine. Then tell me something that’s going on with me.”
I put down the sauce pan I’m rinsing off. “You’re not handing in your American history homework?”
Hannah’s cheeks turn pink. “I told you. Those assignments are stupid.”
“It doesn’t matter. You still have to do them.”
“But what’s the point? Why do I need to know about some stupid war that happened, like, five-hundred years ago?”
“The revolutionary war happened two-hundred-fifty years ago, Hannah.”
“Ugh!” She puts her hands on her hips. She’s been doing that when she’s upset ever since she was two years old. “What’s the difference? It’s still a really long time ago.”
“It doesn’t matter if you think it’s stupid or not. It’s part of your education. Liam always—”
“Right. Liam. You want me to be just like him. Because he’s so perfect.”