Rivalries: Chapter Nineteen, Part One

 Notes: We're back in Charlie's POV, out of that very nasty situation in the lab and into a very nasty situation at school. Damn, it's all nasty.

Title: Rivalries: Chapter Nineteen, Part One

***

Chapter Nineteen, Part One

 

Charlie was no stranger to early morning wakeup calls, but he didn’t like seeing John dragged into something he clearly didn’t like. It wasn’t Charlie’s place to tell him what to do about it, though—certainly wasn’t his place to say “Tell that horrible person to shove it where the sun don’t shine and come back to bed,” especially when he might get information that could help Ari.

Ari, who was leaving texts and occasional messages during the day now, strictly against his mother’s orders, but he sounded so miserable that Charlie didn’t say anything about it. Hell, maybe she knew. Maybe both of them ignoring it and giving her child this poor but better-than-nothing outlet for his affliction was all that was keeping the two of them sane.

They were going to make a trip out soon, within the next few weeks—ostensibly so Huda could start looking for homes in the area, but really so that Ari and Charlie could have some in-person time. That had helped before, given the boy the strength to go on even though he always looked like his heart was breaking when he left.

Ari had actually slipped up and called Charlie “Dad” last time. His mother had been mortified. It had to hurt, seeing her son fixate on a person who had no connection to them other than the fact that he’d been in the right place at the right time.

Charlie had saved Ari’s life, that was true. He’d been part of a team of people to do that, though, and his mother had orchestrated it, kicked up such a fuss that the State Department had insisted they get operational support from the best the army had to offer.

He’d just been a well-armed cog in the military machine, and now—hell, he thought, glancing at his right side as he made coffee—he wasn’t even all that “armed” any more. Hardly a healthy person for any kid to fixate on, much less one who belonged to an almost total stranger.

You’re being too hard on yourself. The voice of Charlie’s shoulder angel sounded a hell of a lot like John. Naturally. You were there when he needed you. You’re doing your best. We both are. We’ll figure it out. John was off doing that right now, working with those researchers on something dark and twisted and promising answers for Ari. The least Charlie could do was get to school on time.

He was actually a little bit late, which was the only reason he saw what he did as he pulled into the parking lot. There was Roland, one hand holding onto the strap of his backpack, the other pressed against the car behind him like if he pushed hard enough, it would open up and let him through. And in front of him was…

“Oh, hell no!” Charlie stopped John’s car in the middle of the lot, to a chorus of honks that he gave exactly zero fucks about, and ran over to Roland’s side as fast as he could get there. When the woman cornering the boy noticed Charlie coming, she withdrew a little bit. Roland moved behind Charlie’s back as soon as he could.

“Oh,” Mrs. Patterson said, her face a perfect, faintly smiling mask of upper-middle class, bland respectability. “You must be one of Roland’s new teachers.”

“I am,” or close enough, “and I know that you’re not allowed contact with him,” Charlie said through gritted teeth.

Her smile didn’t waver. “I haven’t touched him.”

“Speaking to him is contact.” It was all he could do not to shout. “What are you doing here anyway? You don’t have children, after all.”

The mask slipped a little bit. “I’m here to speak to a friend,” Mrs. Patterson said coolly. “I happened to see Roland and merely came over to ask how he was doing. I’m sure he’s had a number of big adjustments lately.”

“You would know, being the cause of most of them.” Charlie shook his head. “We’re done here. I’m reporting you to the principal, too. You can’t—”

“Oh, come now,” the voice that made Charlie’s blood pressure surge said from behind him. Roland made a soft, pained sound as Principal Cross stepped in front of them. She looked oddly satisfied. “This is hardly the sort of incident that merits tattling to me, Mr. Verlaine. Linda is a friend of mine and was simply coming by here to talk to me, as she already said.”

“You need to clarify to your friend how to avoid breaking the law,” Charlie insisted. “The ‘no contact’ rule includes random chats in parking lots.” His eyes shot daggers at Mrs. Patterson. “I wonder what the judge in charge of the case would have to say about this.”

“And how do you know so much about what should be a sealed file?” Principal Cross challenged, putting her hands on her hips. “Perhaps your counselor friend has been spilling secrets. Maybe I should have him brought up on an ethics charge.”

Charlie thought fast. “I was notified of these details by Roland’s case worker when his new foster parents decided to let him observe my after-school club while he waits for a pickup.” It was technically—very technically—true. The case worker had included Charlie in her discussion with Debra, but he doubted she even remembered it.

“Really? Shall I call her and ask about that?”

Gauntlet thrown. They were at an impasse. “I thing there are better ways for you to spend your time,” Charlie said at last.

“And you’re already late for class. I suggest you hurry up.” She glanced in the direction of his car. “And move that immediately.”

Charlie turned to look at Roland, who was glassy eyed. “Can you make it to class by yourself?” he asked quietly.

“I—I think I—” He finally nodded, but it wasn’t very believable. Welp, time to disobey an order from his principal. Hopefully the line of cars behind him wouldn’t get too long before—

“I’ll walk with him.”

All four of them turned around to look in surprise at Nanda, the girl with the weather knack. She had a pugnacious expression on her face, and the air around her head seemed oddly charged.

Principal Cross found her voice first. “You should be in class—”

“First period is study hall for me. Come on.” Nanda held out a hand to Roland, who took it eagerly. They walked away without a second glance.

Charlie wished he could do the same. He made do with ignoring the women he’d been on the verge of a shouting match with and going to move John’s car.

They were going to have a lot to talk about when John got in.