Changing the Rules (Richter Book 1)(86)
Time ticked.
The room filled.
She did not want to call this in.
“Hey, Claire?” Sean greeted her.
A quick fist bump. She kept her smile.
The bell rang . . .
Five seconds passed.
Fuck!
And then the bastard walked in the door like nothing was wrong.
Claire slumped in her seat.
“I was starting to wonder if you were going to show up.”
Claire turned to Sean, who’d called the man out.
“Did you miss me?”
“You weren’t gone long enough,” Claire chimed in.
Eastman looked her in the eye. Something flickered.
“Mr. Eastman, did you know that the female praying mantis eats her lover, sometimes while they’re in the middle of the nasty?” Claire asked.
“No way!” Several students turned in their seats, looked at her.
“Seriously, look it up. Found it on YouTube last night. It’s sick.”
Cell phones came out, and within seconds the class gathered around each other watching videos.
“That’s epic,” Sean said, laughing.
“Sometimes education happens on accident,” Claire said, glancing at the video.
“How true that is.” Eastman sighed, sat down in his seat, and let his homeroom scroll through YouTube videos on the strange mating habits of insects.
Cooper called in. “Did you get the spark plugs I needed?”
“We’re clear.” Lars hung up.
The shop was empty.
The two-stroke engines that were group projects were spread out on tables. He walked around, checked their progress. When he saw something wrong, he wrote a note. Check your work. When the work was perfect, he left a different note. Help your neighbor find their problem.
Cooper left his surveillance equipment alone. Knew they’d do a sweep before leaving campus altogether.
The bell rang and Cooper proceeded to his last day in school.
Because it was business as usual, Claire spent her lunch in Bennett’s classroom, and she started it by putting an apple on his desk.
“What’s this?” Bennett asked, picking it up.
“It’s called fiber.” She made a sweeping motion with her hand. “It’s good for the plumbing.”
He smiled. “Do I look constipated to you?”
“Honestly . . . sometimes.”
He took a bite, looked at the apple. “Grab a chair,” he told her.
She pulled one over and sat.
“I’ve put together a few common problems and answered them wrong. I know you can identify them, but I need you to talk me through them.” He turned a paper toward her and continued to eat his apple.
She underlined the first part of the work that was wrong and turned it back. “How did you come up with this?”
Coach Bennett was already smiling.
They finished two problems even though he tossed some pretty lame reasons for his wrong answer to the questions.
Bennett pushed his pathetic lunch away and sat back. “If I gave you a college application, would you fill it out?”
“We’re back to that.”
“I never give up.”
She laughed. “That way we can party at the geek convention in a few years?” Click, click . . .
“I’m past my party days.”
Claire thought of the pictures of Ally and Elsie in the garbage. Both struggling in math, both sent to Bremerton to obtain tutors. Ally’s tutor takes her to a party with spiked drinks. Elsie’s quits after two sessions because she’s impossible to teach. Which was bullshit since she’d left their study date confident she’d pass her test today.
“Do all the math teachers go to this convention?” Claire asked.
“District budgets don’t give everyone a ticket. Mainly department heads.”
Click . . . click . . .
“Do all department heads run the tutoring programs?” Claire got up from her chair, walked back to the wall of photographs as something close was clicking its way into focus in her head.
“Not all, but some. There’s a lot of networking at the events. We share information our students can use. Like cost-effective tutoring, or even free. Why are you asking?”
Claire couldn’t help but wonder if the random sampling of pictures on the want-ad wall would show math-challenged kids being funneled to Bremerton. “Who is the head of the math department at Bremerton?”
“That would be Dale Levine. I’ve known him for years.”
“And does he run the tutoring program there?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact. He took it back under his wing a few years ago. I thought he was crazy. Coaching track takes up all my spare time. But not for Coach Levine, apparently. He’s a dedicated guy. Always asking if there’s someone on my team struggling in math that he can pair up with the right person.”
Claire’s memory flashed. The man had smiled at her, told her he’d see her at state. “Jesus.”
“Are you thinking of skipping Mr. Dunnan and going to Coach Levine directly?”
So many pieces click, clickity, clicked into place. Here she thought Dunnan might be the one directing at-risk kids to Milo and Brian, but instead it was the coach at Bremerton, with access to Milo through Russell. Or was there another connection between Levine and Milo? If they’d been watching Levine from the beginning, maybe they’d have all the answers. Claire kicked herself for not putting that together before today. “I should have done that all along.”