Chapter 6 - The Son Richard Didn’t Know
Richard found Tyler in the home theater.
The seventeen-year-old was playing a racing game on a screen larger than most classroom walls.
“You’re suspended from school,” Richard said. “Turn it off.”
Tyler kept driving.
“I didn’t buy the console so you could ignore me with it.”
“You bought everything else.”
Richard walked to the power strip and switched it off.
The screen went black.
Tyler threw down the controller.
“What is wrong with you?”
“That is the question I came to ask.”
Tyler stood.
“I already said I’m sorry.”
“No. You said you were angry.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
Tyler rolled his eyes.
Richard saw himself in the gesture.
That frightened him more than the insult.
“Why did you tell Ms. Bennett I paid for her?”
“Because you basically did.”
“I donated to the school.”
“Exactly.”
“You think that means teachers work for you?”
Tyler laughed.
“Don’t act stupid.”
Richard stared.
Tyler continued.
“You call Hale whenever you don’t like something.”
“To ask questions.”
“And things change.”
The sentence struck with uncomfortable precision.
Richard remembered Tyler’s sophomore year, when he had been benched after missing practices. Richard called the athletic director to ask whether the punishment was “constructive.”
Tyler played the next game.
Junior year, a disciplinary notation disappeared from his internal file after Richard complained that one hallway fight should not define a student.
He had told himself he was advocating for his son.
Tyler had learned a simpler lesson.
Dad calls.
Problems disappear.
“What did Hale say about Bennett’s exam?”
Tyler looked away.
“Nothing.”
“Ava recorded you.”
Tyler’s head snapped back.
“She’s lying.”
“I heard your voice.”
“She records everyone like some psycho.”
“What did Hale say?”
Tyler’s face tightened.
“I told him Bennett failed me.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“And?”
“He said he’d handle it.”
“That’s all?”
“Pretty much.”
“Tyler.”
“Fine.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets.
“He said, ‘Your family has invested too much in Westbridge for one teacher to forget the larger picture.’”
Richard felt sick.
“What did you say?”
“I said Bennett wouldn’t change it.”
“And Hale?”
Tyler shrugged.
“He laughed.”
“What did he say?”
Tyler’s eyes shifted.
“‘Mercers don’t get failed at Westbridge.’”
There it was.
Richard crossed the room slowly.
“Did he tell you to threaten her?”
“No.”
“Did I?”
“No.”
“Then why did you?”
Tyler’s expression became defensive.
“Because she was humiliating me.”
“She gave you the grade you earned.”
“You don’t understand what a fifty-eight does to my applications.”
“I understand exactly.”
“My counselor said—”
“I don’t care what your counselor said.”
“You cared every other time.”
That stopped Richard.
Tyler saw it.
“You cared when I got cut from varsity. You cared when Dean Morris wrote me up. You cared when I got a B-minus in calculus.”
“I cared because you were my son.”
“No. You fixed it because I was your son.”
Richard’s mouth went dry.
Tyler stepped closer.
“You think I made this up? Everyone knows.”
“Knows what?”
“That donors get taken care of.”
“You’re seventeen. You don’t know what everyone knows.”
“I know what happened with Landon Price.”
Richard froze.
“What about him?”
“His dad threatened to cancel the athletic center renovation.”
“How do you know?”
“Landon told us.”
“What changed?”
“His grade.”
Richard stared at his son.
Tyler seemed almost relieved to be able to justify himself.
“That’s how this school works.”
“And that made you think you could call Ms. Bennett furniture?”
Tyler’s face hardened.
“She made me look stupid.”
“You made yourself look cruel.”
“She hates me.”
“I watched the recording. She was calmer with you than I would have been.”
Tyler looked away.
Richard stepped closer.
“You are going to write her an apology.”
“No.”
“That was not a request.”
“I’m not writing some fake apology so everyone can pretend it fixes things.”
The refusal surprised Richard.
He had expected entitlement.
Instead Tyler’s voice contained something almost honest.
“You’re right,” Richard said.
Tyler looked at him.
“It wouldn’t fix anything.”
Richard sat.
For the first time in years, he did not know how to be a father without using authority.
“What do you think should happen?”
Tyler laughed bitterly.
“You’re asking me?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know.”
“Neither do I.”
That seemed to unsettle him.
Richard continued.
“But you will face whatever discipline Westbridge imposes. I won’t interfere.”
Tyler’s eyes widened.
“What about college?”
“What about it?”
“If they suspend me—”
“You were willing to destroy a teacher’s job over a grade.”
“I wasn’t trying to destroy her job.”
“You told her she could be replaced because you believed my money made her disposable.”
Tyler looked down.
Richard’s phone rang.
Board vice chair Margaret Lowell.
He answered.
“Richard, we have a problem.”
“Which one?”
“The grade audit.”
“What about it?”
“Hale says there’s no evidence of manipulation.”
Richard stood.
“That’s not what I’m hearing.”
“He provided records.”
“From whom?”
“IT.”
“And?”
Margaret hesitated.
“They show Claire Bennett personally authorized Tyler’s change.”
Richard felt his stomach tighten.
“How?”
“Electronic approval at eleven twelve yesterday.”
Two minutes before the portal changed.
Margaret continued.
“And Richard?”
“Yes?”
“There’s an IP address.”
He waited.
May you like
“The approval came from Ms. Bennett’s school-issued laptop.”
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