“Good morning, Franklin,” he heard her say through the open doorway, and his ears tingled. Franklin Monroe was one of the names he’d overheard last night from the gang in the football field. Muscles locked and loaded in case of danger, he slowed his steps as he approached, scanning the area for any signs of impending attack, noting several kids banging around in their lockers, loaded down with backpacks and assorted sports gear. None of them seemed particularly interested in Olive and her classroom, though. As he neared the doorway, he heard Olive continue her conversation. “Oh, awesome! Thanks for the tea. I’ll need a refill after this one. I’m liable to need a whole pot today.”
Levon looked inside and spotted Franklin, a lanky, dark-haired kid who looked about seventeen. Must be a senior, Levon thought, watching as Franklin rolled his eyes at something Olive said that Levon couldn’t hear. The kid didn’t seem disrespectful toward her, though. In fact his stance—wide-legged with his hands clasped behind his back—reminded Levon of the one recruits in basic training took before their commanding officers. It was a sign of respect. And from the way Olive was interacting with him, they were familiar with each other. She’d said as much last night, but he liked to see and assess things for himself. Based on the little bit of info he’d been able to get out of Olive this morning, she’d been tutoring Franklin since not long after he started high school. He’d been in some trouble—acting out had gotten him kicked out of class so many times that he started falling behind on the material, which, according to Olive, frustrated him, which made him act out even more. But despite his attitude, she’d seen potential there, and had insisted on meeting with him one on one to help him develop it. The individualized tutoring had not only gotten him caught up academically, it had been the nudge he’d needed to buckle down and take his education seriously. Now, he not only behaved himself but excelled in his classes. The tutoring sessions that had started as a way to catch him up had continued as a way to challenge him beyond the scope of his assigned classwork.
The similarities to Levon’s own situation way back when wasn’t lost on him.
“Yeah,” Franklin said, drawing Levon back to the present. “Next time I’ll be sure to bring more, Miss Owen.”
“Thanks,” she returned as she drew out the textbook they were studying from. “But don’t go spoiling me. A gal’s liable to get used to this kind of treatment.”
“I can see that,” he said.
“I’m surprised you see anything, considering you almost never look up from your phone.”
Franklin pocketed his cell dutifully as she took her seat across from him. Levon remembered what it was like being tutored by Olive and from what he recalled, she reserved the banter for these sessions; in class, she was all business. She’d mentioned that for the most part Franklin was a quiet, exemplary student. Olive had said she rarely encountered such focus in a kid his age, which made her all the more inspired to help him reach his full potential.
“So I see you came prepared. Good.” She nodded toward the papers in front of him. “Is there anything you’d like to chat about before we get started?”
Levon slipped silently into the classroom and stood near the back wall, hoping to remain as invisible as possible. With luck, maybe Olive could get the kid talking about the gang. It was what he would have tried to do in her shoes, but then Olive wasn’t him. She was smarter. So smart, in fact, that she seemed to be reading Levon’s mind. She leaned forward slightly and reached over to place her hand on the kid’s sweatshirt-covered forearm.
“It doesn’t even have to be about the homework,” she said, her voice gentle, non-threatening. “If there’s something else bothering you, we can talk about that too.”
The kid frowned and lowered his head. Now that Olive had brought it up, Franklin did look troubled, though Levon was sure he was doing his best to hide it. There were dark circles under his eyes and a tightness around his mouth that suggested a boatload of stress simmering inside the teenager.
Levon waited to see if Olive had successfully worked her magic, but unfortunately, nope.
“Nothing,” Franklin replied, looking away from her. Levon had expected as much. This case couldn’t be that simple. Besides, if Franklin Monroe had gotten himself involved with the Reapers, then he was in a world of shit and he probably believed that nothing Olive said or did would make a difference. Levon hadn’t caught much of what they’d said last night on the football field, but he suspected the gang was at least harassing the kid, if not trying to recruit him. He needed to know more. Sooner rather than later, if Levon had his way.
“Just… I’m just nervous about the scholarship. That’s all,” Franklin said.
Olive glanced up from their textbook, then removed her glasses and polished them on the front of her plain black dress. Tiny wrinkles covered the front of it, and Levon knew that had to be driving Olive nuts. She always looked impeccable. “Oh? You want to talk about it? I know it’s a lot of pressure, but…”
“But
