Page 2 of The Perfect Steal
“I’m supposed to see Ms. Riley?” There was someone behind a large screen monitor, but at least a placard on the desk said Jeanine Riley.
A woman with dark brown hair poked her head out, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Yes, that’s me,” she said, shooting me a smile. “Sorry, I was in a late meeting and just finished lunch.” She was the tuna-eater. I could smell it even stronger in here.
Hopefully, I’d survive the meeting.
I placed the paper on the corner of her desk and slumped into the chair, my legs grateful for the reprieve.
“Ah, yes. It’s nice to meet you, Nate.” At least she didn’t call me Mr. Everton.
“I wish I could say the same,” I said, hoping she would get to the point. My patience was thinner than normal, mostly because my head was beginning to spin.
“I’m the new counselor, stepping in for Mr. Jones, who recently retired. And from all the records we have, it looks like he never met with you.”
I shook my head and regretted it. The room spun, and I pressed a hand against my forehead, hoping it would stop. What had I been thinking in coming to school today? I should’ve just had my mom write me a note to get out of it.
“Okay, so if it’s all right, we need to go over your class schedule and figure out where to switch you around.”
I leaned forward, a sudden panic taking over. My schedule was the way I wanted it for a reason. I was in all the easiest classes, meaning less work than all my baseball friends. Messing with that now was not something I was okay with.
“I’m sure my schedule is just fine the way it is,” I said, forcing my mind to focus.
Ms. Riley smiled at me. “I wish I could say that’s true, but if you don’t have some more core classes, you won’t be able to graduate on time.”
That was even worse than changing my schedule. I needed to graduate, needed to get out of Rosemont so I could stop being the Mayor’s son and people could know me for me.
“What classes am I missing?” I asked, hoping it was remedial math or something simple.
“Science, Math, English.” All the ones I was conveniently avoiding.
“Okay. What do I need to switch?”
Ms. Riley took out a list of classes and went over a few of them. “It looks like Honors English is during fifth or seventh period and has a few openings.”
Waving my hands in front of her, I said, “I’m not an honors student.”
She gave me a look with hooded eyes, one where I was usually in trouble for something.
“I’ve seen your test scores, Nate. You’re almost off the charts. And a bunch of your teachers have noted that you’re a bright kid but haven’t put in the effort to succeed.”
I leaned back into the chair and shrugged. “What’s the point? I’m not some child prodigy.” Memories flooded back that proved that was a lie.
All the tests, the regimented learning with tutors. All part of the life I no longer wanted to live.
“Well, you can at least try. The chances of college scholarships are higher when you’ve got better grades.”
I folded my arms against my chest. “My dad is going to pay for college.” That was an understatement. My dad had paid for everything I’d done wrong ever since he got into office.
Ms. Riley nodded, trying to be patient with me. “I get that, but there’s something to be said about earning your own scholarships.” She glanced over another paper. “It looks like you’ve been a two-year starter for the men’s baseball team. That’s quite an accomplishment.”
I might have straightened at that note of pride. It was true. Being a starter as a freshman was rare, but attending an elite baseball camp in Florida over Christmas break two years ago had helped me learn the skills I needed to turn from an infielder to an outfielder. Coach Maddox had liked my speed, and I’d been able to be a full-time starter after the center fielder broke his leg sliding into home during the third game of the season.
“Thanks,” I finally said.
“You have so many skills and so much you can offer. Are you sure you don’t want to be placed into some of the honors classes?”
And have my father gloat to everyone about something I’d done even if he’d had no part in it? Not a chance.
“Just fix my schedule so I’m taking the correct classes to graduate. No honors or advanced placement classes, though.” I was good where I was, and hopefully, I’d still be able to coast along with a new schedule.
