“We’re already doing that. They barely cover after-school activities like band and sports. We simply can’t afford it. Not to mention, there hasn’t been much parental involvement. I can’t ask teachers to do any more without paying them. I’m sorry, but it’s simply not possible.”
Now is the time for me to step in. “Creed, would you wait outside while I speak to the principal privately?”
Creed raises an eyebrow at me, but nods and walks out.
“Really, Mrs. Hestons, there isn’t anything I can do.”
“But there is something I can do.” I reach into my purse and take out one of Rothswylers’ cards. “Your school is going to apply for a grant. My lawyer will ensure that everything is taken care of.”
“Grants aren’t that easy to get. We can apply, but the likelihood—”
“I’m sorry. I think you misunderstood me. You already have the grant. You just need to tell him how much you need. Not just for the dances, but also to cover the extracurriculars that you were speaking about.”
The principal stares at me speechlessly.
“This money only comes with one restriction. No one knows it was me who provided it. Your school simply applied for a grant that it desperately needed.”
“We can do that.” His head bounces up and down.
“You will also let that lawyer know when you need grants for other things. Like books for your library or a new library.”
“Is this a joke?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“No, ma’am…but what you’re talking about—”
“Me. I’m not talking about anything. I wasn’t ever here. But consider me a volunteer to help with organizing the dance.” I stand up and offer my hand. “It was very nice meeting you.”
The principal takes my hand, mumbling something about appreciating it and helping kids.
Creed’s waiting patiently with a massive mathematics book open in his lap. There’s no way that book came from this public school. It looks to be a high-level college book.
Someone’s an overachiever.
“Do I even have to ask if things went well?”
“It seems your principal was a little more amenable when I asked him.”
“Was that it?”
I shrug.
“My dad is in so much trouble.”
No, he isn’t. This isn’t a big thing. When he finds out I’m pregnant, we’ll probably go back to barely tolerating each other.
“Let me walk you to your car.”
“Don’t you need to get back to class?”
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Has anyone told you you’re as stubborn as your father?”
He grins. “A time or two.”
“Well, you can’t escort me to my car. I walked here.”
