Lie, Lie Again(44)
He squinted and appeared to be holding his breath. He looked like an angry toddler ready to burst. “But you didn’t. And that’s a problem, Miss McFarlan. A big one. You know I’m very supportive of the teachers here. However, when I’m bombarded by a couple of irate parents first thing Monday morning, and I haven’t a clue as to what it’s about, it puts me in a very awkward position. Do you understand?”
“The Trainors came to see you this morning?”
“Mrs. Trainor and Mrs. Johanson came to see me. They were waiting outside my office when I arrived. I didn’t even get the chance to have a cup of coffee.” He said this as though it were an equal outrage. “Mrs. Trainor made claims that with your ‘flip response’—that’s a direct quote, mind you—you invited an opportunity for the matter to take an argumentative turn, causing her to feel that she was getting bullied by other parents. Mrs. Johanson came in support of her. She and her husband were both extremely upset by your response.”
“What? My response was to let each family decide if the project was right for their child.”
“Well, that’s not how they see it.” He sighed. “And please keep your emotions in check. I’ve already had to deal with excited parents.” He pushed a stack of papers across his desk toward her. “Mrs. Trainor printed these out for me. I’ve highlighted the emails you might not have seen.”
She picked up the top page. It was the first one Cassandra had sent. Looking to Principal Rosenkrantz, she took the entire stack, skimming through them, trying to decipher what he was talking about. When she reached the fifth page, her breath caught in her chest. She hadn’t seen this. Oh no. Shit, shit, shit. She’d gotten so caught up in the text from Brandon, she hadn’t sent the email to Principal Rosenkrantz, let alone read any new ones that had come in.
From Janelle’s mom:
Are you kidding me? Please tell me this is an April Fools’ joke a month early.
And from little Jeremy’s mom:
First you call my son’s diet crap, and now you’re calling us a bunch of liars because we choose to follow some sweet traditions? I think you need to mind your own business and keep your mouth shut.
Riki looked up from the emails to see the severe look on Principal Rosenkrantz’s face. “As I’m sure you can see, she has a point. Things escalated. And something you should keep in mind is that Mrs. Trainor and both Mr. and Mrs. Johanson sit on the board of directors for Ocean Avenue,” he said, enunciating each word for emphasis. “To refresh your recollection, Elliott Johanson is a prominent attorney. The last thing this school needs is a lawsuit.”
“They threatened to sue?” Her voice was fit for finding a spider crawling on her arm, not someone who was keeping her emotions in check. She swallowed and tried again. “I’m sorry, but how could the school be blamed for this?”
His lips turned down, making him look like a droopy dog. “Oh, I’m sure they could find a way. It might get thrown out, but it would be a mess for me, and I don’t like getting caught in a hornets’ nest.” He folded his hands on the desk once again, the picture of a composed principal. “Now, I’ve fixed the problem for the moment. I’ve reassured both moms that you and I agreed together that the other parents acted in an inappropriate fashion. Like I’ve said before, I’ll protect my staff, but it’s hard to when I’m not in the loop. I led them to believe that we chatted over the weekend about this and that you were equally concerned for her.” He pinned his gaze on her. “Do you understand what I’m saying? We talked this weekend.”
Riki felt like she’d been sucker punched. Her principal had to lie for her? And he was asking her to lie? This was ridiculous. Not to mention, he’d be watching her like a hawk for the rest of the school year. Another mistake and she’d be sent to talk to Ms. Hammacher, the head of school. This was bad. She blinked hard and forced herself to think of Disneyland, the beach—anything to stave off tears. Crying in front of her principal would only make things worse.
“Yes,” Riki said in a quiet voice. “Where do we stand with the traps? Can I just cancel the project altogether? Had I known it would cause such an uproar, I never would’ve planned it.”
“Oh, don’t cancel it now. Mrs. Trainor is on board, and Mrs. Johanson followed suit. As upset as they were about the bitter reactions, they’ve decided to rise above the fray. They suggested we turn it into an art contest. That way, it takes the focus off the leprechaun, but the kids have something to work toward. To be honest, I thought it was a brilliant solution.”
Riki tried to look relieved. “Great. That sounds like a fun idea. Um, what is the prize for the contest? Did Mrs. Trainor have some suggestions?” Or demands.
“We’ll leave that up to you. I’m sure you can come up with something wonderfully creative.”
“Okay. I’ll get right on that.” She stood. “Thanks for taking the time to fill me in. I appreciate your support.”
“You’re welcome. Have a good day.”
She turned and rushed for the door. Only six minutes remained until the bell rang—hardly enough time to get everything squared away for the first lesson, but she trailed slowly to her classroom. Chris had said to tell them to eff off. That wasn’t what she needed. She wanted reassurance, understanding. If Brandon were here, he’d look at her with those sincere blue eyes and draw her into a hug. She could almost feel his lips in her hair, whispering words of support. He’d take her hand and say, Twirl, girl! Cheer up.