He’d found that was better than introducing himself as a TA or adjunct.
Because if there was anything that would get people to ignore him, it was admitting he didn’t have any real authority.
The Rothfuss duo were a stately-looking couple just past late middle age and entering into their older years, hair still touched with hints of color, clothing quietly understated and yet clearly quite expensive without being overly flashy or ostentatious. They carried themselves with a sort of unconscious dignity that said they were used to being the most important people in the room, their authority acknowledged without necessarily requiring deference, and they offered Summer polite, not unfriendly nods as they each shook his hand quite formally before stepping into the office.
Summer settled to sit against the desk once more, gesturing to the two empty chairs; both Mr. and Mrs. Rothfuss settled with perfect posture, he folding his hands in his lap, she crossing her legs with her hands settled against her purse.
But before Summer could say anything, Mrs. Rothfuss spoke, her voice curdled at the edges with worry. “You said this was about Theo’s performance and behavior? But you’re in the psychology program?” She pressed gloved fingertips to her lips. “Has he done something that will affect his qualification for AP college credits?” She exchanged a worried glance with her husband. “He needs those so desperately for university.”
“Theo’s grades are holding fairly well,” Summer said carefully. “I’ve been reviewing his performance scores and it looks like he’s only had a few lapses since his freshman year. But while his grades are fine... I’m worried about his social integration with the other students.”
Mr. Rothfuss’s brows knit; for such a thin man, he had a very thick moustache, and it twitched rapidly as he repeated, “Social integration? Is he being bullied?”
“No,” Summer said. “I’m afraid he’s the bully.”
Both parents gasped, glancing at each other almost guiltily, before Mrs. Rothfuss turned her wide eyes back to Summer. “Are you quite certain? Our Theo?”
“I’m afraid so.” Summer clasped his hands together against his thighs so he wouldn’t have to really focus on how sweaty they were; he was all right now, just these two with Fox at his back, a silent protector...but his nerves were still exhausted, shredded, and it was taking everything in him to keep his voice steady and calm and pleasant when he was just waiting for another haughty dismissal. “I won’t name names, but we have reports from several students of Theo taking extremely aggressive action against them, from causing them physical injury to desecrating or destroying their personal property, as well as socially manipulating them with threats and causing schisms between other students.”
Both Mr. and Mrs. Rothfuss went stiff.
Summer braced himself.
Here it came.
Mr. Rothfuss turned on his wife, scowling. “I told you sending him here was a mistake. We should have home schooled him where we could keep an eye on him.”
“It absolutely was not a mistake,” Mrs. Rothfuss shot back. “Theo needs to learn how to function in the larger world instead of having his every need catered to. Home schooling would have just pampered and isolated him more. He’s too used to getting his own way.”
“And he’s repeating the same patterns here, only now we can’t rein him in!” Mr. Rothfuss countered. “If keeping him at home doesn’t help and sending him away doesn’t help, then what are we supposed to do?”
Summer just watched with wide eyes.
Not...what he was expecting.
Not what he was expecting at all.
But Fox cleared his throat softly behind him, reminding Summer...
Right.
This was his rodeo, and he had to keep things moving productively.
He raised his voice slightly, just enough to cut off another volley between them. “I think Albin Academy can still be a good, nurturing environment for Theodore,” he said. “But we aren’t his parents. In order to help Theo acclimate and stop his antisocial behavior, we need you to be more present for a while. Set boundaries for him. Structure. There’s only so much we can do, legally. But we can help you know what you need to do. And I think that if we can get Theodore on a better path, that will go a long way to helping several other boys whose grades have been slipping because of his bullying.”
Mr. Rothfuss’s shoulders slumped. Mrs. Rothfuss fussed at her purse, looking at Summer in consternation. “He’s been affecting the other boys’ grades?” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. This is our responsibility, and clearly we failed.”
Mr. Rothfuss smiled bitterly. “Somehow, even after all these years, we aren’t quite ready to be parents. But you mentioned being more present?” He glanced at his wife. “I could afford to take a few weeks off of work.”
“I’m sure I could swing it as well,” she said, frowning, tapping her lower lip. “Theo won’t like it, but...”
“Sometimes we have to give our children what they need, not what they want,” Summer said—but inside, God, he was jumping, buzzing, shouting, the air in his lungs suddenly seeming to go a mile further when...maybe, just maybe, this might go somewhere. “There’s a lovely bed and breakfast down the hill that usually has rooms open year-round, if you’d like to book a stay.”
“Y...es,” Mr. Rothfuss said thoughtfully, his moustache and his brows twitching quite firmly as he stretched the single syllable out into two halting sounds with a long breath in between. “Yes, I think we shall. Thank you for informing us of this, Mr.... What was your name again?”
“Hemlock,” Summer said, offering a smile. “Summer Hemlock.”
Mrs. Rothfuss blinked. “Oh, my,” she said. “What an unusual name.” But she offered a smile as well, rueful, chagrined. “We’re so sorry we’ve not been as attentive as we should be with Theo, but we’ll be in touch again soon. Is it all right to visit our son in his room?”
“Of course.” Summer stood fully, offering his hand. “Do you
