“No.” His voice was muffled by the ice pack.
“I’m giving you the opportunity to come clean. But I understand that you might be in too much pain to talk clearly.” She really needed to work on her penchant for sarcasm. She blamed her brothers and their own various busted lips and noses for it. “If so, you can sit in the outer office and wait until your parents get here.”
She walked him to the separating door and had him sit, then turned to face the other boy. He had his own blue ice pack shoved against his right eye. Nick could slug pretty good himself. “Come with me,” she told the other boy.
She didn’t wait for him any more than she’d waited for Nick. She sat while he got comfortable.
“You want to tell me what you were fighting about?” She tried to keep her voice even and her face neutral.
“No.”
“You know, someone’s going to tell me what happened.” She wouldn’t even have to use the good cop/bad cop routine, though Lindy would be disappointed. She loved playing the bad cop.
“Nick won’t tell.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about Nick. I’ve dealt with his type plenty. No, the other kids who were standing around watching. They’ll eventually tell me.”
He looked at her, his eye wide as if that had never occurred to him. How had he gotten to eighth grade and not realized his fellow students were not always to be trusted?
There was definitely something about the boy that intrigued Addie, and she wasn’t exactly sure why. “What’s your name?” she asked softly. Since he was a newcomer to the school, she didn’t have a clue what to expect from this boy, unlike Nick.
“Ryan.” He didn’t say anything more, and she waited for a long minute.
“Do you have a last name?”
“Yeah.” Another long silence, and in the one eye she could see, she saw his thoughts. She was pretty sure he was actually considering lying to her.
“Lying’s a bad idea, just so you know.”
“Uh... Skylar.”
“Thank you, Ryan.” She leaned back, knowing that Gina was even now pulling his file to get his parents’ phone numbers. Addie pondered how to approach him.
Westbrook Middle School wasn’t huge. When Addie had been growing up, she’d gone to school here. Back then, attendance had nearly overflowed halls. Now, with an aging population in the area, and the new system of charter schools and choices that weren’t around when Mom was raising them, the headcount was lower.
There weren’t many new kids each year, so Ryan Skylar was notable in a sea of the same faces each year. Something about him interested her, and maybe it was because she’d spent way too much time staring at budgets.
She tried again. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
He shrugged. “Do I have to?”
She fought back a smile. “You don’t have to, but it might make things better for you. Ms. Hanson is calling your parents, and I’d like to be able to tell them you were cooperating with me.”
He shrugged, and that single uncovered eye looked at her. If she’d ever seen pain, it was in that one brown eye. It jolted her. So strong. And almost familiar. She shook her head and sat forward again, crossing her arms on top of the budget papers. “You know, I grew up with three brothers. And a couple sisters. There’s not much you’re going to get past me.”
He looked down, studiously examining his tennis shoes. She waited for him to look up again.
“I’m an only kid,” he said softly.
“There are times I would have liked to be that.” Flashes of all the craziness in her family flitted through her mind. “Does that have something to do with the fight?”
He shrugged again, but still didn’t look at her. “Bet your house wasn’t quiet.”
“Uh, no.” She laughed. “Not very often anyway.” She gave him a couple of minutes, but she needed to find out what happened. “We’re calling your parents—”
“You gotta call my dad,” he interrupted.
“Okay. Is there a reason?”
“Mom.” The boy took a deep breath. “Mom passed away...”
Well, she’d muddled into that one. “I’m sorry.” Addie felt the knife in her chest for the boy, and from her own recent loss of her mother. That’s what she’d seen in his gaze. Grief. It resonated with her. She knew how much it hurt. Faded memories of her father, and the resulting emptiness, were still too real.
“Then we’ll call your dad.” She cleared her throat, not sure what was stuck there. “What do you think he’ll say about your getting into a fight?”
The boy looked down at those tennis shoes again. “He’s not gonna like it.”
“What do you think he’ll do?”
He seemed to think about that a minute. “Probably cut down my computer time.” The sadness in the boy’s voice expanded to fill the room. She fought a smile. At least now she knew what was important to him, and she felt another stirring of curiosity.
Gina stood in the doorway and Addie looked up. “Yes?”
“His father’s on the way. Nick’s parents aren’t answering.”
So, what else was new? She really didn’t want to deal with the Haldons, but there were some things about her job that were unavoidable.
“Unless you’ve got something to tell me, you can take a seat in the lobby until your dad’s here.”
The boy hesitated but finally stood. She had to admire him. He might not like Nick, but he wasn’t going to rat on him. She watched him walk out and slump down on the chair—farthest from Nick.
She pulled the budget papers together and sorted them. She wasn’t going to make any more progress for now. Even if she did, parents would only show up and disrupt her. She didn’t know how long it would take for them to get here.
She glanced at the clock. Another hour and the day would be done. Hopefully, Gina could reach the Haldons before it was time for the boys to head home. She couldn’t let them go before speaking to their parents, and she didn’t want to stay any later than she had to.
“Addie?” Gina said from the door. She had the cordless receiver in her hand and a smirk on her face. “Mrs. Haldon is in Atlanta at a conference. Mr. Haldon is at work. They’re looking for him.”
“So, who are you talking to?”
“The housekeeper. She wants to know if she should come get Nick.”
“Housekeeper?” Addie stared. “No. His father needs to come get him.”
“I’ll let her know.” Gina left, and for some strange reason, Addie found herself feeling sad for both boys. Neither of them had the support they needed, that they should have.
Just then, a man Addie had never seen before came rushing in. He wore neatly pressed dress pants and a blue button-down shirt. His thick chestnut hair looked awry, as if he’d been running his fingers through it. Repeatedly. “Ryan?” He headed straight for the boy.
He knelt down, uncaring that he could get dirt on those nice pants. “Are you okay?”