Good. If he genuinely cared about school, genuinely wanted to succeed, then that was something they could use to pull him back from the Reapers. Being the good teacher she was, Olive seized on that. “You’re not wrong for it,” she told Franklin point-blank. “And the anxiety you’re feeling now is totally natural! I’d be worried if you weren’t worried, Franklin. This is a huge opportunity for you.”
“I know it is,” he cut in again. “But, I mean… why wouldn’t they consider somebody else for it?” He dropped his gaze, and his mouth worked miserably before he continued. “You know what my first year was like here, Miss Owen. You know I was in and out of Principal James’s office. You vouched for my ass more than once.”
“Language,” she said mildly. “And Franklin, everybody makes mistakes. Especially at your age.” She pushed some papers toward him. “But don’t let doubting yourself become your biggest regret. You can do this. I know you can.”
“And you’re a pretty smart lady,” Franklin said with a small twist of a smile. Olive grinned as if in agreement, but it didn’t escape Levon’s notice that the boy’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Levon knew from experience that even all of Olive’s support academically couldn’t banish all those worries and preoccupations. Still, having her as an ally had made all the difference in the track Levon’s life had taken. He hoped it would do the same for this kid. Franklin took a deep breath. “Think Principal James’ll still write me a letter of recommendation?”
“If I’m as smart as you think I am, will a ‘yes’ from me count for something?” Olive’s gaze flicked to Levon and she raised a brow at him as if to ask if he was going to stand there snooping all day. Dammit. He would have liked nothing more, but given that things seemed safe here for now, he had other things to attend to while he was here—and he’d draw too much attention if he hovered over her all the time.
Reluctantly, he gave a curt nod and ducked out of the classroom to head toward Principal James’s office. Unfortunately, he knew exactly where to find it, since he’d been there a time or two before in his career as a student.
Now, at twenty-eight, he was hoping for a more pleasant experience.
Twenty minutes later, he sat across the desk from the guy and saw that other than a sterner expression and a few new worry lines, nothing much had changed with Terrence James.
“I appreciate you being here, Mr. Asher,” James said, his brisk tone making the SEAL in Levon snap to attention.
“Yes, sir,” he said.
His whip-quick response seemed to please the older man. “The police have briefed me on the situation—I know we need a presence here who can monitor any student involvement in gang activity without drawing the attention that would come from bringing in one of the local officers. We’ll get you settled into a position as hastily as possible.”
“From the outside it will have to look like an organic decision, sir. Possibly one that’s been in the making for a while. But I think we both appreciate the need to expedite the process.”
“Of course.” Principal James folded his arms and sat back, musing on this. “It will be hard to place you, though, considering your academic strengths.”
Maybe it was all the other conflict swirling inside him right then, but damn if that didn’t feel like a dig to Levon. His hackles rose automatically after years of slights about his shortcomings as a result of his dyslexia. He’d learned to cope with it pretty well over the years, especially after he’d entered the naval academy. One of the reasons his memory was so good was because he used it to help cover his reading issues. Still, he didn’t like the reminder of his failings back when he’d been in school. Liked it even less that it was coming from the man who’d been the bane of his teenaged existence back then, even if the put-down was only in Levon’s head.
Luckily, he didn’t get a chance to answer because a bright voice chirruped from the doorway. “Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting, Principal James, I… Levon?”
Levon turned slightly to see Olive, her curvaceous figure half-filling the door, already blushing and backing out of the room. He hadn’t told her about this little meeting with the principal. “Mrs. Phelps must have stepped away from her desk, there’s no one out front…” she jabbered. “So I just thought… you know what? I didn’t think. How out of character for me! … Okay. Leaving now.” She wheeled like a skittish deer caught in the road and made to bolt.
“Wait, Miss Owen. Perhaps you can help us.” Principal James beckoned her back into the office with a wave of his hand, inviting Olive to take the seat beside Levon’s. Olive shot him a what-the-hell look as she sat down. “Miss Owen, I know this may be upsetting for you to hear, but I want to make you aware of a situation the school is facing at present.”
Levon sat motionless as he listened to Principal James fill Olive in. Olive snuck him sideways looks periodically, but didn’t say anything—not even to let the principal know that she was aware of all of this already, that Levon himself had told her the previous night. She nodded intently, adjusted her glasses on occasion, and inserted questions when appropriate, even when she already knew the answers. Apparently, she didn’t want anyone to know that she and Levon had already been in contact. He wasn’t sure how that made him feel, but he shrugged it off. This wasn’t the time to be feeling anything—he needed to stay focused on the case.
“… so what do you suggest?” Principal James asked her. “We need to find a placement
