Now Neil’s face was hard. “Mr. Burke,” he said, “I did not mention responsibility. I am not responsible for the way Jesse acts. I feel no guilt whatsoever. I just want to give him another chance. Not because I have done anything to feel bad about, and not because Jesse has done anything to deserve it. I just am not ready to give up on him yet.”

Alan Burke frowned and said, “Mr. Campbell, do you feel that way too?”

“Personally, yes. I always feel that way when a student is expelled. But professionally, it is my opinion that his expulsion is overdue. He is wasting his teachers’ time, my time, his own time, and he is destroying the atmosphere of his whole class. For the sake of his classmates, I still recommend expulsion.”

“Is there any teacher who wants to give him another chance?”

Tom Wright said nothing. Glen Ulrich said, “He is too much disruption in my class.” Fiona shook her head.

Then Neil found support from an unexpected quarter. Donna Clementi said softly, “I don’t want him back in my classroom unless he learns to behave himself, but if Neil is willing to take him on, I say let him. Who knows what will happen if someone believes in Jesse that much.”

The teachers left before the vote was taken. The bell for the beginning of school sounded before the school board emerged, so Neil did not hear until morning recess that they had agreed to let Jesse return after Christmas. He would come to school in the afternoon, attend Neil’s class only, and then go home.

But if he got into trouble one more time, he was out.

By noon, everyone in the school knew of the decision. As Carmen sat next to Neil and opened her lunch bag, she said, “You really know how to take on the world, don’t you?”

“You don’t approve?”

“I approve very much, but I have real doubts of whether it will work. I wouldn’t have taken him on.”

Neil shrugged. After a few bites, he said, “I don’t know if it will work, either, but I felt I had to try.”

# # #

There was a letter in Neil’s mailbox when he got home that night. It was from Dr. James Watkins at his old school. It was on plain paper and the typographic errors made it obvious that Dr. Watkins had typed it himself, probably at home.

Dear Neil,

I know that Tom Lewis intends to visit you. If he has, then you know already that Alice Hamilton is going to have a baby. Her father has resigned from the school board and I have spoken with David Hawkens, his replacement as chairman. Hawkens was reluctant to consider your return after your leave of absence ends, but I showed him that he had no legal recourse. He would like to speak to you personally and hear your assurances that your behavior was without blemish. I told him that his request was insulting, but he was adamant. If you are willing to comply, and I suggest that you do, he will be available during the Christmas holidays. You will be spending the holidays with your mother and grandfather, won’t you?

Whatever you decide, come and see me. We miss you here.

Sincerely,

James Watkins

Neil lay back on his couch and read the letter twice more, trying to untangle its mixed messages. “Come home, Son, all is forgiven,” would be a welcome message if he had done anything to be for which to be forgiven. Six months ago he would have jumped at a chance to meet Hawkens, but time and experience — and pain — had stiffened his backbone. more tomorrow

“That carries us up to yesterday,” Bill said. “That was the day he got in trouble with every one of his teachers.”

“We’ll hear from them in a moment. First, I want to know why we weren’t called sooner. This kind of continual disruption simply cannot be tolerated.”

Neil had pity for Bill as he tried to answer. It was easy to see that the boy had to go — unless you knew him. Unless you stopped to think that expulsion would solve Bill’s problems and the teacher’s problems, but it would do nothing for Jesse.

The teachers told their stories next. They spoke without passion, but the extent of Jesse’s rampage came through all the more clearly for that. The board members were appalled.

Alan Burke looked at the other board members. Elaine Sanders mouthed, “Expell him,” and Dr. Hardy nodded. Their silent agreement was clear to everyone in the room.

Burke said, “OK, let’s take a formal vote.”

“No!” Mrs. Herrera shouted suddenly. “You can’t expel my Jesus. He’s just a boy.”

Burke was unmoved. “Mrs. Herrera, we have explained the seriousness of Jesus’ actions to you every time we have met. You promised to get professional help for Jesus and for yourself. You promised to go to family counseling to learn how to control his behavior. You have not done so. You leave us little choice, and Jesus leaves us no choice at all.”

“Please, I have gone to counseling.”

“You told Mr. Campbell that you hadn’t.”

“We have. We just started, but we have gone. I’m trying to help him, but if I have to drive him to some other school and still drive myself to work, I’ll have even less time for him.”

“That is precisely what we have been trying to tell you for two years,” Burke replied coldly. “You are a little late understanding it. When did you start going to counseling?”

“We went Saturday.”

Elaine Sanders cut in, “You waited until after you knew Jesus was going to be expelled to start counseling? Didn’t you think that was a little late?”

Tears were flowing down Mrs. Herrera’s face. She whispered, “It’s hard for me. I want to be a good mother. It’s hard to go to a stranger to have him tell me that I’m not.”

Neil’s heart knotted up at her pain, but Jesse’s face was stone.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Herrera,” Sanders continued, “but for me, that is just too little and too late.”

Neil said, “Wait.”

Burke looked surprised. “Yes, Mr. McCrae?”

Neil had no logical arguments to make; he simply had not been able to remain silent. Fumbling for the right words, he said, “I feel sure I know what your vote is going to be, and I can see, from your viewpoint, why you are willing to make that decision. But I would like to give Jesse a second chance.”

“This school gave Jesus Herrera a second chance in second grade and a third chance in third grade. You would be giving him a seventh or eighth chance.”

Neil stiffened his jaw against the words that threatened to tumble out. Still, some of the fire he felt inside showed in his tone of voice as he went on, “Nevertheless, I have not given him those chances. I, personally, would like to give him a second chance.”

“Mr. McCrae,” Burke continued patiently, “I realize that you may feel some responsibility for the boy because you are the one he yelled obscenities at. But believe me, after reviewing the case, I would vote for expulsion even if yesterday had never happened.” more tomorrow

Normally, Neil loved the morning, and this one was brisk, bright, and lovely. Thinking back to the cold gray December skies of Oregon, Neil realized for the first time how sunny and beautiful the Central Valley of California was. Yet for all that, Neil’s life had the flat, stale taste of defeat. He kept thinking of Alice, now quite lost, and of Jesse whom he was losing.

# # #

Even though it was only two days before Christmas, three of the five members of the board of education were able to come in an hour before school started on Friday morning to consider Jesse Herrera’s case. They met in Donna Clementi’s room because there was not enough room in Bill Campbell’s office.

The board members, Alan Burke, Dr. James Hardy, and Elaine Sanders, sat behind a table with Bill Campbell off at one side. Mrs. Herrera and Jesse sat at the other end of the table and all five of the teachers who dealt with sixth graders were there. Mrs. Herrera looked strained but composed and Jesse’s face held no expression at all.

Alan Burke opened the meeting. “We are here to act on a request from Mr. Campbell that Jesus Herrera be expelled from our school. Mrs. Herrera, were you told what this meeting was about?”

“Yes.” Her voice was small and pained. You could see that she had been crying.

“Expulsion is serious business, especially for a child as young as Jesus. It means that he can’t attend this school any more. You can petition to have him readmitted next year, but we are not obligated to readmit him. If he is expelled today, you will have to show proof that his behavior has changed before we will consider readmitting him. Do you understand all this?”

“Yes.”

“If he is expelled, that does not mean he doesn’t have to go to school. You are obligated to see that your son is in school. State law requires it, so you will have to find another school for him to attend. No other school has to take him in; only the district where you live has that obligation. If he is expelled today, you will have to convince another district to admit him for the rest of this year. Do you understand?”

A tear escaped as she said, “Yes,” very softly.

Parent and child, Neil thought. Just like Alice and her father. You can’t separate them. Mrs. Herrera is on trial as much as Jesse. And it’s no fun to face a school board. I ought to know.

Next, Burke turned his attention to Jesse. “Jesus, do you know why you are here?”

Jesse nodded.

“No one wants to punish you, Jesus, but you have to conform to the school’s code of discipline. You can’t disrupt classes because when you do, your teachers can’t teach and your classmates can’t learn. Do you understand that?”

Jesse shrugged and gave them all a black look.

Doesn’t this mean anything to him? Neil asked himself.

Burke looked disgusted with Jesse. He said, “Jesus, this isn’t the first time we have seen you. We won’t be patient forever.”

Still the boy made no response.

“Mr. Campbell, give us a summary of how Jesus’ year has gone so far.”

Bill had a pile of detentions slips in front of him. He read them off quickly: talking in class, punching another student, disrupting, accusing a teacher of hating him when that teacher stopped him from bothering his classmates, stealing another students pencil and keeping the class from working while the teacher figured out who had stolen what from whom, disrupting, fighting on the playground, disrupting class, disrupting class, destroying another student’s lunch. It made a sadly impressive total. more tomorrow

“Actually it’s good news and bad news. The bad news is that Alice Hamilton is pregnant . . .”

Neil sat bolt upright, feeling as if someone had hit him in the stomach.

” . . . and the good news is that she is only about four months gone.”

Neil sank back again and heaved a heavy sigh. He shook his head and pantomimed counting on his fingers. He had been gone from Oregon since June; almost seven months. “Tom,” he said, “don’t ever do that to me again. All I need is to be called up on a paternity suit for someone else’s baby!”

Tom said, imitating a prosecuting attorney, “Where were you on the night of the twenty-sixth of July?”

Neil laughed. “Why, I was forty miles north of Yosemite Park, sleeping with a black bear. You can subpoena her if you want to.”

Fear and relief in rapid succession had made him giddy for a moment, but bitterness was quick to return. He said, “Alice was one screwed up girl. I have to blame her father for most of it. He gave her her way in everything that he should not have had, but wouldn’t let her live her own life when she should have. I should feel sorry for her, but . . . I can’t.”

“The result,” Tom added, “is that she won’t even graduate from high school. Her father pulled her out and sent her to live with an aunt somewhere. He also resigned from the school board.”

Neil was horrified. “You mean to tell me that he brought her to this, and now he’s abandoning her? This isn’t the nineteen-fifties. She doesn’t have to give up her education just because she’s pregnant.”

“I thought you were happy to see her in trouble,” Tom observed with quiet amusement.

“I was . . . I . . . ” Neil gave up talking. His thoughts were rushing too fast and his feelings were too mixed for him to be coherent. He shook his head, disgusted with Alice, disgusted with her father. Disgusted with the whole situation.

“She doesn’t deserve this,” Neil said finally.

“Actually,” Tom observed, “this is exactly what she deserves. Poetic justice, and all that.”

“No. It wasn’t her fault. Not entirely.”

“I never bought that argument,” Tom said. “You can push blame all the way back to Adam if you blame parents for what a child becomes. People have to take responsibility for their own actions. I do. You do. Let Alice take her responsibility, too. Hell, of all people, you shouldn’t be standing up for her.”

Neil rose to pace around the cramped apartment. Tom went to refresh his drink, then went on to the bathroom. When he came back, he said, “Are you okay now?”

“No. I’m not okay. All I can think of is what Alice looked like when she came to me in tears begging me to tutor her. One part of me feels for her pain — it was real, you know — and imagines how lost and abandoned she must feel now. Then the other part of me wants to hunt her up and yell at her, ‘See! See what you get!'”

Tom shook his head in amazement. “You never learn, do you? The eternal patsy. Neil, you had better start listening to your dark angel. He has more sense than you do.”

# # #

Neil saw Tom off the next morning, congratulating himself that his head was clear. Tom was feeling the after effects of the rum he had drunk last night. Neil worried as he watched him pull out. Although driving with that kind of headache was nearly as bad as driving drunk, Neil had not been able to convince Tom to delay his trip for a few hours. more Monday

“Every bit as bad. Love the kids; hate the textbook; and I go crazy trying to hold myself down to their speed. But it’s okay. Overall, its okay.”

“Except today?”

Neil told Tom about the incident with Jesse. Tom was not moved; he simply said, “I don’t get it. Why are you bothered by it? They’ll expel the little bastard and that’s that.”

“I don’t want him expelled.”

“For God’s sake, why not. He’ll just keep on being a pain. Be glad of the opportunity to get rid of him.”

Neil got up and said, “Freshen your drink?” He busied himself in the kitchen for a moment and on the way back he stopped off at his desk. He gave Tom his drink and laid a photo on the coffee table. “Look at that,” he said.

It was a snapshot Neil had made earlier in the year, inside his classroom with half a dozen kids clowning around between classes. Jesse was among them. It had been one of his good days; his face was alight with mischief, but there was no malice in it.

Tom looked at the kids soberly for a minute, and said, “God, they’re young!”

“Yes, they are. Young and vulnerable. Young enough so that the right person could keep them from going wrong. Too young to cast off just because they misbehave.”

Tom sat back for a time of thoughtful silence, then said, “It must be strange.”

Neil nodded. “For the first few weeks I was thrashing about, trying to find out what I was supposed to do, and how to go about doing it. Then came a period when I had my daily routine down, and as soon as I could relax a little, it got so boring you wouldn’t believe it. Parts of it still are. I dread coming home because I have to correct sixty-five awful papers every night. I have to drive myself to do them. They make high school papers look good by comparison.”

Tom shuddered in mock horror.

“Despite all that, I love what I am doing. Can you believe I’m saying that? It is because of the kids. I see two classes of kids, each for half a day. Its not like high school where they move in and out of your life on the hour. I actually have time to get to know them.”

The conversation drifted to other subjects.

Tom and Neil had been acquaintances and colleagues for three years before Neil’s scandal. In that time, Neil would not have called Tom a friend. They both taught literature, but theirs was a large high school and except for occasional meetings they both had to attend, their paths did not cross professionally. They were members of an informal group of teachers who met once a week to play basketball after school, and occasionally they shared a drink after a game. Beyond that, they had no basis for friendship.

Yet, when Alice Hamilton accused Neil of trading grades for sex, Tom was one of the first to defend him, and one of the few who never wavered in his loyalty. His position was, “What ever happened to innocent until proven guilty? And besides, I just don’t think Neil would do something like that.” He said it loud and often. It cost him some friendships and made him unpopular with the administration and the school board, but none of that stopped him. It was, Tom said frequently, not a matter of friendship, but of simple justice.

It may not have begun as an act of friendship, but Neil treasured it nonetheless.

“Neil,” Tom said, “I have some news you will be curious to hear.”

“Yes?”

“Actually it’s good news and bad news. The bad news is that Alice Hamilton is pregnant . . .” more tomorrow

“It’s all right, and it was cheap.”

“I don’t mean your apartment; I mean the town.”

“Ugly? I guess. I thought so at first, but I am getting used to it. Parts of it are okay, and the countryside is pretty.”

“This billiard table, pretty? You’ve got to be kidding.”

Neil grinned and admitted, “You have to look close to see it. But the foothills are pretty and the mountains are beautiful.”

“Do you get up there much?”

“Not at all since school started. They keep me pretty busy.” He stopped long enough to open the door to his apartment, then went on, “I spent the summer in the high Sierras.”

“Alone?”

Neil met his eyes and said, “Yes.”

“That must have been a rough time for you.”

“Damned rough. But let’s not talk about that.”

Tom shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He headed for the refrigerator and said over his shoulder, “Don’t you have anything to drink?”

“There should be a six pack of coke.”

“Beer?”

“No. I don’t keep it on hand.”

Tom pulled a pair of cokes out of the refrigerator and a tray of ice. He was sure enough of his welcome to make himself at home. Neil was surprised to find that that made him uncomfortable. It never had before. Tom took two glasses from the cabinet, added ice and poured them three-fourths full of coke. Then he crossed to his bag, pulled out a bottle, and held it up for Neil’s inspection. “Better than beer any day,” he said.

“None for me.”

“Come on!”

“No, Tom.”

Tom poured a liberal draft of rum into each glass and held one out to Neil. He said, “It’s almost vacation time. Let loose.”

Neil stood for a moment with the glass in his hand. He could smell it and it smelled good. Then he crossed to the sink and dumped liquid and ice in a single, decisive motion. Standing with his back to Tom, he rinsed out the glass and rebuilt it of ice and soft drink only. Before he turned around, he said softly, “Don’t push me on this, Tom.”

“All right.”

Neil crossed to the couch and motioned Tom to join him. Before he sat down, Tom said, “I’m sorry, Neil. I guess I’m pretty clumsy sometimes.”

“Forget it. You stood by me when almost no one else would. I won’t forget that. Ever. I’m not being unsociable, but when I drink, I dream of that bitch. And I don’t ever need to see her face again!”

Tom sat beside him and said, “Cheers!” Neil smiled and they touched glasses together. 

“Is your school out already?”

“Sure.”

“We have to go until Friday.”

“That’s stupid. It will cut things close for you. You are driving home for Christmas, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I wanted to get down here early enough to spend the evening and go on in the morning. I hope I’m not messing you up, but the chance came up suddenly and I didn’t have time to call ahead.”

“Of course not. You are welcome here any time. I don’t do much that you could interrupt; just work mostly.”

“How are you doing, really?” Tom asked.

“Really?” Neil paused. “Really, I am doing quite well. Much better than I had anticipated. I had a terrible day today, but that isn’t typical.”

“How do you like working with little kids?”

“I like it. There is a freshness about them that I haven’t experienced before. I never realized until this year how jaded high school students are.”

“How about teaching reading instead of literature?”

They looked at each other, and then they both laughed. Tom waved his hand and said, “Okay, dumb question. Let me ask instead, is it as bad as we imagined it would be?” more tomorrow

“I think so. At least most of them heard him. He whispered it, but there wasn’t another sound in the room at the time.”

“That tears it. The board will expel him this time.”

Neil shook his head. “I don’t want him expelled. I’m so mad now I could kill him, but I don’t want him expelled.”

“It’s out of  your hands. After last year, the board will have no patience with him. He has been in trouble with every teacher in the school this morning. I was coming to get him when I saw him in my office and came on out to see what he had done to you.”

“He came in hassling Lorraine, threw a paper wad at T. J., claimed he had not, slammed his desk deliberately to disrupt the class, all but called me a liar when I accused him, and then cussed me out on the way back to his desk.”

Bill shook his head in disgust. “Write it up,” he said. “Write it very carefully, and don’t leave anything out.” Then he added, “Why are you out here?”

“I wanted to cool off. I didn’t want the kids to see me this mad. I’m afraid I yelled pretty loud at Jesse.”

“Evelyn thought she heard you. Don’t worry about it; you should have heard the harangue Fiona gave him. And don’t worry about being angry in front of your students. They know you’re human; believe me, students always know all of our faults.”

Suddenly, Bill Campbell’s tone changed as he asked, “You didn’t hit him or push him around, did you?”

“I felt like strangling him, but I never touched him.”

“Good. Then there is no problem. Now get back to your classroom and act like nothing happened. Or let the kids write about how it all made them feel. Don’t let them get into a discussion, though; they might draw you into saying something you shouldn’t.”

Neil nodded. This was the second time Bill had backed him up in a crisis with Jesse. Neil was learning a great deal at Kiernan, and not the least of those lessons was that paranoia clouds your reason and distorts your ability to read others. He had misjudged Bill Campbell very badly at their first meeting.

# # #

A slow, sickening anger continued to dog Neil throughout the day, and he took it home with him. He was thankful to have the night to recuperate. He was tempted to stop for a bottle of Scotch, but he knew where that road would lead his mind.

He drove into the lot at his apartment and found a familiar green sedan in his space. For a moment he could not place it; it was too much out of context. Then Tom Lewis waved from where he was lounging in the driver’s seat and Neil was suddenly transported back to the world he had left seven months before.

Tom came over and shook his hand. There was a forced gaiety about him, masking a new reserve. Yet, only Tom had stood by him when the others had backed away. When even his lover had backed away.

“Hey, Neil, old buddy. How are you doing?”

“Okay, I guess. What are you doing here?”

“I’m on my way south to L. A. for the Christmas vacation.  I decided to drive so I could stop by and see how you were.”

Neil was moved. He gripped Tom’s hand tighter and said, “Thanks. That means a lot.”

Tom turned to his car and opened the trunk for a bag. He said over his shoulder, “Say, you really picked an ugly pace to live.” more tomorrow

Neil gripped the edge of his desk until the veins stood out on his forearms. He would not lose his temper — but, of course, he had already lost it. The other children had watched his conversation with Jesse with the intensity of spectators at a bullfight. They heard what Jesse muttered, and they flinched back from the flare of anger in Neil’s face.

Neil came slowly to his feet, towering over Jesse. The boy hunched down as if to protect himself from a blow, and cried out, “Don’t hit me! Please!”

That only made Neil angrier. He leaned forward until his face was within inches of Jesse’s and whispered with a barely controlled passion that shook them both, “Get out. Get out of my class. Get out of my sight. Get down to the office and stay there until I come for you!”

When Jesse’s head came up, his expression had regained its maliciousness, and he said, “No. I’m not going to the office.”

“Now!” Neil’s shout rattled the windows.

Jesse turned away slowly and left the room; every movement of his body suggested that he had gotten what he wanted.

Neil stood to watch him walk past the windows. Then he sat heavily back in his chair, shaking with unspent anger. The classroom was dead silent. He tried to speak but his voice choked in his throat. He stared at his littered desk top to shield his eyes from the other students. They did not deserve to sit in fear like this. They had done nothing wrong. But he couldn’t control his voice to tell them so. A minute passed. He felt the heavy pressure in his chest recede a bit. He cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry I got so angry. It was not directed at you. Please try to relax.”

They did not relax, but they exchanged glances that were perfectly opaque to Neil. What they were thinking of him, of Jesse — of anything — was more than he could fathom.

He rose and said, “I’ll be just outside.”  Then he left the classroom. Outside, he leaned against the wall of the building. The children were all in their classes. The playground was deserted and peaceful. Neil breathed the clean, cool air in great gulps, trying to burn out the anger that filled him, but it did no good.

He had over-reacted, and he knew why. In the routine of everyday teaching, and in the warmth of a growing relationship with Carmen, his upper mind tended to forget Alice Hamilton’s accusation and his banishment from the world he had known and loved. The undermind forgot nothing; all that load of anger, hurt, and hatred lay ready for a trigger. Jesse had been that trigger.

Although, Neil admitted honestly, this incident would have infuriated him under the best of circumstances.

Neil was leaning against the wall next to the door to his classroom. His students could not see him, but he could hear them. The room was still mostly quiet, although here and there they were beginning to discuss what had happened in strained whispers.

Sweat was standing out on his face despite the cold, and hatred was in his heart. He had just about decided to send a student to get Bill Campbell, when the superintendent came out of his office and headed toward him. Bill did not look happy. He asked, “What’s going on?  Why are you out of your classroom?”

“I sent Jesse Herrera to you.”

“I saw him.”

“He called me a fucking bastard.”

Campbell frowned. “In front of the class?” he asked. Neil nodded. “They all heard him?” Campbell persisted. more Monday

Neil opened Tuck Everlasting to the place he had left off and began reading. Lorraine did not relax. That was Neil’s second warning that things were not going well, so he kept one eye on his book and the other eye on Jesse.

Jesse opened his desk and pulled out a paper, rolled it up and threw it across at T. J. Nelson. Neil stopped reading and looked at Jesse, then rolled his chair back to the chalkboard and wrote Jesse’s name there. He said, “First warning.”

“Why?” Jesse said in hurt tones.

“For throwing that paper wad at T. J.”

“I didn’t throw any paper wad!”

A weak or lazy teacher would have ignored the paper wad; a self-righteous one would have suspended the boy for implying that his teacher was lying. Neil had always tried to steer a middle course, so he said sternly, “I have eyes, Jesse. Don’t push your luck.”

Neil returned to his reading, but the mood was spoiled for him and for the class. Whatever he read to them now would have little effect. They were too busy thinking about Jesse.

Jesse opened his desk, took out another piece of paper, and slammed the lid down hard. Lorraine jumped and tried to slide still farther from him, but she was already on the edge of her chair.

Neil laid his book aside and the classroom became ominously silent.

Neil locked eyes with Jesse, but the boy would not look away. Very few of his students, here or in high school, had ever had the power to infuriate him, but this boy did. Neil took his time before responding, fighting down his anger and trying to be fair. 

Yet deep inside he knew he was not being fair. In order to overcome his own growing dislike of the boy, he was leaning over backward to avoid punishing him.

“Come here, Jesse.”

“Why?’

“Get up here!”

Even then, Jesse rose and walked to the front with deliberate, taunting slowness. Neil remained seated so that their eyes were on the same level and spoke with a calmness he did not feel. “You deliberately slammed your desk top in order to disrupt the class. What’s wrong with you today?”

Jesse shifted fluidly from defiance to a shuck-and-jive act. He lowered his head and looked hurt. He said contritely, “I didn’t mean to.”

Their relationship had gone too far for Neil to believe that, or for him to overlook so transparent a lie. He said, “You did mean to. You wanted everyone in the class to look at you — again. You wanted to be the center of attention. Well, you’ve got my attention now. This is your second warning, and if you get one more I’ll not only give you a detention, I’ll also send you home.”

“You hate me!”

“No, Jesse. If I hated you, you would be long gone by now. I am bending over backwards to avoid giving you detentions, but you aren’t helping me any.”

Jesse lowered his head still further and sounded still more pitiful when he said, “You do, too.”

Neil had to pause for a deep breath. Once Jesse’s false accusations would have filled him with guilt, but he was on to the game now and it only made him more angry. Yet he did not want to suspend the boy for something as subjective as attitude.

Neil kept his voice as calm as he could and said, “Sit down.”

As Jesse moved back toward his seat, he muttered, “Fucking bastard!”

Neil gripped the edge of his desk until the veins stood out on his forearms. He would not lose his temper — but, of course, he had already lost it. more tomorrow