Matt nodded thoughtfully.
“I would think,” Garland continued, “just in my capacity as a casual observer who reads the newspapers, that any school that had already been embarrassed on national television about its calloused firing of a sweet, middle-aged womanand then had the further humiliation that the president of its student government was a closeted gay who got drunk and tried to rape a drag queen, would be very nervous about any further scandals…”
Garland went on, “I would expect, again, just speculating, that if a young man emerged with a lawsuit claiming that he’d been kicked out of that school for being gay and the only evidence against him had been the word of the now-disgraced gay rapist student government president, that such news would cause some serious heartburn for the college’s administration.”
Garland fixed his gaze on Matt. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if a school in that position hadn’t already floated settlement terms.”
Matt suppressed a smile, acted like he hadn’t understood that an offer had been made. Garland could have saved them both time and just told him as much earlier.
Bradley popped into the kitchen and checked on something in the oven.
“You boys alright?” Bradley asked. “Need refills or anything?”
Garland waved him away. “We’re good. Thanks!”
Matt returned to the subject of MCU’s offer. He wanted to know specifics but had to couch the question properly. “Generally speaking, what would you expect to see for a gay kid who got kicked out and then attempted suicide?”
Garland shook his head like a patient tutor. “Nothing. Remember? It’s not illegal for a religious school to expel a gay kid. A ‘straight kid,’”—Garland made air quotes—”who got kicked out based on spurious evidence that he was gay, that kid might get something.”
Matt had not known this when he’d hatched his plan, but, yes, Garland had explained it to him after the fact. That was one reason he and Adam had only seen each other twice in the last few months: being careful that Adam’s “straight” veneer wasn’t tarnished. Well, that—and Adam’s asshole dad.
Matt rephrased his question. “What kind of settlement offer would you expect to see for a gay-but-not-gay kid who got kicked out and then attempted suicide?”
“Free four-year scholarship, including room and board. A little cash in return for a confidentiality agreement. Probably a hundred thousand tops. Again, I’m just speculating. I could never ethically discuss the particulars of any case with a non-client.”
Matt was impressed, considering Debbie had only received $10,000. With this settlement, Adam would clear $70,000 after Garland’s fee.
“Wow!” Matt said. “If a lawyer pulled off a deal like that, he’d almost be the best lawyer in thestate.”
“ALMOST?”
Matt grinned. “Well, the best lawyer in the state would probably be able to get three extra terms added to the settlement.”
Garland sighed heavily, reached over, picked up Matt’s half-finished glass of merlot, and tossed it back.
“I can’t stand the idea of anyone’s thinking I’m only second best,” he said. “What are these extra terms?”
Matt held up a finger. “First, Dean Smith has to go. You can finesse it however you want. They can wait a month or so and then quietly retire him. They can throw him a fucking party if they want. But when Adam starts school in the fall, there has to be a new dean.”
Garland eyed the empty wine glass longingly. “Secondly?”
Matt held up another finger. “Dean Smith announced—in Chapel—that Adam Maxwell was no longer a student because he was gay—correction—because he had ‘same sex attraction.’ So, the new dean needs to set the record straight and publicly apologize to Adam—in Chapel.”
“Apologize to a gay kid for having called him a gay kid? That’s sort of an insult in my book.”
Matt shook his head. “The real insult was calling it ‘same sex attraction’ like we have a mental illness. Besides, this will serve as a reminder to the new dean to think twice before accusing kids of being gay.”
“Shit!” said Garland. “Let’s hope I never get on your bad side. And third?”
“Well,” Matt dispensed with the finger counting. This next condition would not only help Adam, but would also square Matt’s tab with Laura, the SGA girl whose vegetarian resolution he had promised to support. Colton had made him break that promise, though, in order to prove his loyalty to him. “There’s the little issue of cafeteria food. Adam’s a vegetarian, you know. And the school seems to think vegetarians can subsist on oatmeal for breakfast and iceberg lettuce and tired tomato salad for lunch and dinner. I think Jesus would want them to do better than that, don’t you?”
“I’m not sure it even matters what I think,” Garland groused.
Bradley stuck his head through the doorway. “Everything still alright? I just pulled some chicken satay from the oven. Want any?”
“Just a second,” Garland said to Bradley, then looked at Matt. “Those three conditions are it, right? There won’t be a fourth? Or fifth?”
Matt nodded.
