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Then
“Callie,Mrs. Clark needs your help at the baked goods table,” Cheryl McGraw declares as she walks up to our table. Callie and I are working at the ticket booth for the Eagles football fundraiser, and her mom looks back and forth between Callie and me as she makes it her mission to separate us, as usual.
Callie looks at me wistfully. “Okay.” She stands and heads toward the back of the gym. This leaves me alone with Cheryl, and it’s awkward. I don’t like to be alone with her, but I’m responsible for this table, so I can’t leave.
“Samuel, dear, how are you doing? Did you decide on a college?” Her voice is not sincere and dripping with fakeness. Now that Callie’s not here, I wish she’d go away and leave me alone.
I barely resist rolling my eyes as I calmly correct her. “It’s SJ, Mrs. McGraw. No one calls me Samuel,” I add politely.
“Well, that’s…that’s fine,” she says, pursing her lips. “I suppose we need to talk about a few things, anyway.” She drums her long, bright red fingernails on the table.
And here we go.
I shift in my chair uncomfortably. I wish I was at the baked goods table with Callie. I look back, thinking about leaving to go back there.
Cheryl jumps right into it as if she can tell what I’m thinking about doing. “I think you and Callie are probably getting a little too serious, don’t you think? Callie has her whole future ahead of her to think about. You wouldn’t want to get in the way of that, would you?”
“And SJ has his whole future ahead of him, too.” I look up to see Mrs. Winters glaring at Cheryl, her arms crossed.
“Goldie, I’m having a private conversation with Samuel,” she admonishes in a condescending voice. My breath hitches at her trying to bully Mrs. Winters. My fist clenches under the table angrily.
“No, you’re being a bully, Cheryl,” Mrs. Winters says, not backing down.
I stand and say, “I’m going to check in with Coach Murphy if you’re here to watch the cash box and table.” I walk quickly toward the locker room, relieved to be away from Cheryl.
I look back before I turn the corner, and Mrs. Winters looks angry. She’s always advocated and been a friend to everyone. Some people in town treat people based on a hierarchy, but not Mrs. Winters. She always makes everyone feel safe and welcome in the library.
Both women are staring each other down when I walk away, and I’m not getting in the middle of that. But I will admit it felt good for Mrs. Winters to have my back. Not very many people do.
* * *
Callie finds me later and says, “Did you hear that our cash box was short? My mom is throwing a fit. She says sixty dollars is missing.”
I look at her and shake my head. “There’s no way that money is missing, Callie.”
“I know. She’s ridiculous.” She bites her lip.
“What?”
“She’s telling people you took it.” She shakes her head angrily. “I hate her. She’s awful.”
With a sigh, I look at her and say firmly, “The money is there. Ask her to recount it.”
“I did,” she says. “I have to go. They’re waiting for me.” Her head is down, and I hate that she looks so miserable as she walks in the rain to their car.
* * *
The next day, I’m in my room and hear yelling down in the shop. I run down the stairs to see what’s going on. My dad and Cheryl McGraw are in a standoff, and she’s yelling at him. Customers are watching from the waiting area. He’s standing still, his arms crossed, and he looks pissed. He’s wearing his navy coveralls, and they’re covered in grease. He’s been rebuilding an engine all day, and I know he doesn’t have time for this.
“He stole that money! This is a fundraiser, for God’s sake!” she yells.
“My son didn’t steal anything,” Sam says calmly.
“Then where’s the money? My daughter certainly didn’t take it.” She huffs.
Sam doesn’t move and stares at her until she realizes she’s not getting the reaction from him that she thought she would. This seems to make her even madder. “I’m not surprised. No one should have left that boy in charge of any money. He can’t be trusted.”
“What has SJ ever done to show that he can’t be trusted?” Sam asks, remaining eerily calm. Too calm.
