Fallen Crest University
Page 75“Mason,” she spoke in that pretentious and condescending manner that my mom used.
I was gritting my teeth. I interrupted her, “Stop, lady.”
The other members sat upright.
One pointed at me, leaning forward from his seat. “You’ll show respect, son.”
“I’m not your son,” I whipped back to him. “Can we just drop the fucking act here? You want to expel my brother, but you don’t want to piss off Sebastian by suspending him. Sorry. Anytime there’s one against five, the one guy isn’t kicked out.”
“There wouldn’t have been an altercation if your brother hadn’t started it.”
“Bullshit.” I jerked a finger in Sebastian’s direction. “There was an altercation last year with me. Same guy. Same scenario. I took on six of his friends.”
“Yes, and you were both suspended for that.”
“Mason,” the spokeswoman started to say again.
I shook my head. “No. No. I’m not your friend. I’m not your son. You don’t know me. The only things you care about is my record on the football field and if I go pro next year or not. That’s the only reason you brought me in here. Own up to that. You don’t want to piss me off either.”
They were quiet. I was right, and the slight guilt on their faces told me that.
“Who do you think I am? You think you can pull me in here, and what? Brainwash me to sell out my brother? Manipulate me? Is that what this is about?”
“Mr. Kade,” the guy on the end spoke up. He sat forward, placing his folded hands on the table. His striped business suit looked like it was bursting at the seams. He was the type who was pissed that this meeting was cutting into his time with his mistress before going to see his second mistress while his wife got drunk and ordered a new mare for their neglected teenage daughter.
I said before he could continue, “You all are forgetting some things. I don’t push my weight around like Sebastian does, but that doesn’t mean I don’t live in your world. None of you scare me. I grew up throwing water balloons filled with piss on people like you while you attended my father’s sleazy parties. You’re that type of people. The money in here can’t push me around because—sorry, Sebastian, but I’m pretty sure your father’s not in my dad’s league—if that’s what this is about, be prepared for me to push back.”
“Mr. Kade—”
My football coach came in. He stopped inside the door and stared at me, his chest heaving up and down. He jerked out the chair beside me and sat down. His breathing was ragged. “I’ve never heard you speak like that.”
“This is what you’re playing?” I ignored him, addressing the board. “The football card? You think my coach is going to make me heel?”
“Mason!”
I started to shove back my chair. This was enough. They were putting me in a corner, and I wouldn’t go there. I wouldn’t make it okay for them to expel my brother while Sebastian got away, scot-free.
The second woman snapped her fingers at me and pointed to the chair. “Stay there.”
She was different. The others looked like they thought they were important. They kept glancing at Sebastian and whoever’s support he had. The looks were nervous and cautious but not this woman. She was leaning back in her chair the whole time, only giving support to her fellow board members
She was calm. Her voice was soft as she spoke now, “I’m going to do something that will shock the pants off you.”
She laughed, waving her finger at me. “You’ve got some spunk, Mr. Kade. I can see how you look at us, and I’ll tell you something.” She leaned forward over the table. Her pearl necklace fell, grazing across the top of the table. “You’re completely right.”
“Miriam,” the other spokeswoman gasped. “What are you doing?”
Miriam ignored her and ignored the mutterings from the other men on the board. She waved at them, looking at me. “I do think it’s horrid how they’ve ignored Mr. Sebastian’s history, and it’s not just with your family. Mr. Sebastian is a regular visitor to these meetings. Everyone up here knows that he’s the problem, even though I highly doubt that you and your brother are saints. A certain house that burned down where no one could prove that it was by your hands is one example that comes to mind, but yes, in the grand scheme of things, the problem is Mr. Sebastian. However, the other problem for us is his father. Do you know what happens every time Mr. Sebastian comes in here?” She rubbed her finger against her thumb, grinning at me. “Money, Mason. His daddy comes in and writes a big-ass check for the school.”
“Miriam!”
“Shut it, Aggie. This kid is a straight shooter, so I’m telling him the facts, not like anyone else in here will argue this anyway.” She shot all of them a warning look before addressing me again, “You know what else his daddy does? He drops a lot of names, reminding us how connected he is, and this board does the same thing every time. We let him push us around—just like we’re going to let him do again. One, it’s good for the school, and that’s always our main priority, but the other reason is because his father will continue to support this school even after his son has graduated. Because we have endured so much shit for this kid, Mr. Sebastian will come back and support the college financially long into his life. The cycle will continue. His kids will be pricks, too, just like him, but he’ll come in and write a big check. That kid will be given a pass, over and over again. It’s the way of life for some of us here.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">