CLAIRE AND HANK

WHERE THE HELL IS Hank? Claire’s heart was pounding, and she was feeling like a complete fool. She didn’t know where he was, only where he was supposed to be. In the headmaster’s office with her.

“Will Hank be joining us, Claire?”

“He’ll be here any minute. He knows he has to be here. Sorry, Paul.”

Hank hadn’t called. He had probably forgotten that they were meeting with Paul Lussen, headmaster at Oceanside Prep, to discuss the school’s “extraordinary” problems with their son Gus.

Where the hell is he? Claire’s heart was beating even harder, and her head was starting to ache.

Claire had reminded Hank this morning. Twice. He’d snapped at her the second time: “I’m not an imbecile, Claire. Contrary to some people’s opinion.”

“I have another appointment in half an hour. You know how crazy my schedule is just before winter break,” Paul said.

She knew. After all, she was the after-school tutor to four students at Oceanside. She knew all the teachers here and they knew her. And Gus.

“Ordinarily I’d say we should reschedule, but there are extraordinary issues surrounding Gus’s future that just can’t wait any longer,” said Paul.

There was that word again. Extraordinary.

Where the hell is Hank? This is unacceptable.

“Well,” she said, “I guess we can start. I can bring Hank up to speed later.”

Paul was a huge supporter of Claire’s and her tutoring. But things went even deeper than that. He was also a good friend, so good a friend that he was, in fact, Gus’s godfather.

Today Paul was all business. And it made Claire sad that she was sitting opposite a rather stern headmaster instead of the charming, funny friend who had rocked Gus to sleep when he was little.

Paul opened a folder on his desk. Gus’s folder.

“It’s hard to know where to begin,” he said. Then he looked down at the papers. “I take that back. Actually, Gus’s record is so…unfortunate…that I could begin just about anywhere on these pages. So that’s what I’ll do.”

He read out loud: “September fourteenth. Gus Donoghue and Alex Frahm are seen urinating in the drinking fountain at the school practice field…September nineteenth. Gus Donoghue is sent to this office, reprimanded for drinking a Heineken—a Heineken beer! Not a Coke! Not bottled water! A Heineken!—during study hall…”

Heineken was his father’s favorite, Claire thought and cringed.

Paul kept on reading: “October fourth. Gus Donoghue and Alex Frahm are found smoking pot in the bathroom.”

Claire remembered that whenever she used the word “pot” Gus corrected her. “They haven’t called it ‘pot’ in twenty years, Mom. You call it ‘weed.’” Claire decided not to update Paul.

“And the grades, Claire. You’re aware of Gus’s deplorable grades—Math, D. English, C-. French, F. Biology, D. Music, F. Music! Claire, you know what that course is like in this school. All you have to do is show up and listen to some music and you get a B!”

She nodded.

Where the hell is Hank?

“I know, I know. This is why we took Gus out of public school. This is why I came to work here for no salary. So that we could get free tuition for Gus. We couldn’t afford a terrific school like this…”

Paul interrupted.

“The problem is that one or two of these transgressions might be considered pranks. But with Gus it’s a dozen or more things. Gus does something extraordinary every day. Getting stoned. Getting drunk. Cursing at a teacher.”

“I’m trying everything, Paul,” Claire said. “I help him at night with his assignments. I forbid him to go out with certain friends, like Alex Frahm. I…”

Paul stood up behind his desk.

“I think you’ve just identified the problem, Claire. You keep using the pronoun ‘I.’”

Claire knew where he was going with this, but she just listened. What else could she do?

“Claire, where is Hank in all this? Where is he right now? This is an important meeting for Gus. For your entire family. Hank is still part of the family, right?”

Claire knew Paul well enough that she could cry in front of him, but she didn’t want to. She absolutely refused to show weakness.

“Listen. The only reason that Gus hasn’t been expelled already is because you work here and, well, because I’m your friend, and I know how much you want Gus to succeed. But this can’t go on. Two teachers won’t allow him in their class next semester, and I don’t blame them. What’s worse—they adore Gus. Then you look at the grades. He can’t move on to sophomore year with grades like that. You know, Claire, if you can—”

Claire interrupted. “I know, Paul. ‘If you can teach the after-school kids and do a good job, why can’t you help your own son?’”

Paul nodded. “If there’s no improvement after Christmas, then there’s no way I can allow Gus to stay here. This breaks my heart too.”