The Perfect Son by Freida McFadden(41)

“Why did Tyler do it?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Hannah blinks at me. “Everyone thinks Liam is responsible for what happened to Olivia. But he isn’t. I know it.”

I’m not sure how Hannah knows it. I sure don’t.

“Tyler is telling everyone that Liam is some kind of psychopath,” Hannah says. “Tyler should be suspended. It wasn’t Liam’s fault.”

I have a bad feeling Mrs. McMillan won’t see it that way. And either way, Liam can’t go to school right now. That’s very obvious. Not until this whole thing blows over.

“I’ll see what I can do, Hannah,” I promise her. I don’t tell her about the police officers at our house, who are currently searching through her brother’s belongings. And my car. There’s no point in making her even more upset. “I’m going to go talk to the principal now. But you need to go back to class.”

But Hannah clearly has no intention of going back to her class. She follows me to the principal’s office and I don’t stop her. This is hard on her too.

When I get into the administration office, Jessica Martinson is already there. The last thing I want right now is to have a conversation with Jessica, but the principal’s door is shut, so I have no choice but to sit down next to her to wait. I still feel the burn of how she shunned me at the PTA meeting. After all those years, how could she do that to me?

“Hi, Erika,” Jessica says in an unreadable tone. “Quite a scuffle our boys had, didn’t they?”

“Yes,” I say vaguely. I don’t mention the fact that my daughter told me that her football player thug of a son jumped my kid. Somehow I suspect Liam will get the blame for all of this. “Boys fight, I guess.”

Jessica smiles tightly. “Yes. I’m sure they’re making too much of this. Hopefully, they’ll just get a warning and that will be the end of it.”

That’s impossible. They were fighting in school. There’s no way they won’t be punished severely. But I appreciate Jessica’s optimism.

The door to the principal’s office cracks open and Mrs. Kristen McMillan stands at the entrance. She’s around my age, but much taller with a strong jaw and her hair styled into an immobile shoulder-length helmet. The last time she and I spoke was during parent teacher night, when she ran into me in the hallway and told me how brilliant Liam was at his last debate, and how he’s on his way to becoming valedictorian. She’s not smiling this time as she waves us both into her office.

The two boys are sitting in chairs in front of her desk. Tyler is slumped down, holding an ice pack to his face, but Liam is sitting up straight, staring at the wall. He doesn’t look great though. Tyler got in a good punch to his cheek bone, which is dark red, on its way to black and blue. His shirt is ripped and his usually neat dark hair is in disarray. He looks like a kid who just got beat up. In spite of everything, I wanted to throw my arms around him.

He’s my son, after all. No matter what.

“They had to be pulled apart by two teachers,” Mrs. McMillan says. “It’s one of the worst fights I’ve seen during my time as principal.”

“It was his fault.” Tyler pulls the ice pack away from his face, revealing a split lip. “He started it.”

“No, I didn’t,” Liam says calmly. “I didn’t do anything.”

“The hell you didn’t!”

“Boys, calm down!” Mrs. McMillan snaps at them.

But Tyler isn’t about to be subdued. “You started it when you murdered Olivia Mercer, you psychopath. Everyone knows you did it!”

Liam doesn’t respond to that. He just stares straight ahead.

“That’s enough,” Mrs. McMillan says sharply. “Tyler, I don’t care who started it. Both of you were involved in this fight.”

“He deserved it.” Tyler nearly spits the words. “That and more.”

Mrs. McMillan looks between the two boys, her eyes narrowing. “Tyler, Liam, I’d like both of you to step outside while I speak with your mothers.”

Liam immediately obeys, while Tyler tries to protest. But Mrs. McMillan has her secretary escort them outside and apparently babysit them while she talks to the two of us. Once the door closes, her lips form a straight line and she peers at us over the edge of her spectacles.

“Obviously, there’s no excuse for this behavior,” Mrs. McMillan says. “Fighting is not tolerated. We can’t have a repeat performance of this.”

“Of course not,” Jessica says. “I’m so sorry about Tyler’s behavior. He just got… emotional.”

I keep my mouth shut, just as my son did.

“Tyler will be suspended for a week,” Mrs. McMillan says. She looks at me and hesitates. “Liam will receive one day’s suspension.”

A week ago, I would’ve been worried about how this would affect Liam’s college admissions. Now I couldn’t care less. She may as well have suspended him for a week. I can’t send him back to school after this.

But Jessica is absolutely furious. A pink spot forms on either of her cheeks. “A week? How come Tyler gets a week and Liam only gets one day?”

“For one thing,” Mrs. McMillan says, “this is Tyler’s second offense. I told you after he was in that fight last year that it couldn’t happen again. Also, there were several witnesses who confirmed that your son initiated the fight. Liam has an impeccable record. He’s a straight-A student—”