Page 34 of The Ruling Class (The Fixer #1)
I needed to get another look at that picture. The president’s physician. An appeals court judge from Arizona. The idea of them being in the same place at the same time, in that small of a group …
Your sister’s just trying to establish a timeline, Vivvie had told me. How my father got involved, when he got involved, how he and Pierce know each other, if they know each other.
I wanted to know when that picture had been taken, where it had been taken. I wanted to know who else was in it. And I wanted to know what Adam’s father had been doing there.
And that meant that I needed to arrange another visit to the headmaster’s office.
“You look like someone who’s thinking deep thoughts.” Asher slid in beside me at lunch. “Deep thoughts about telling me what you’ve spent the past two days not telling me, perhaps?”
Asher probably wasn’t expecting an answer, but I gave him one. “When I called the second number on that phone, someone answered. I know who it was, and I might have found a clue that could tell us how that person and Vivvie’s father know each other.”
“This new, forthcoming Tess is a strange and wonderful thing,” Asher remarked. “Should I be suspicious?”
I answered his question with a question. “How good are you at getting sent to the headmaster’s office for something that won’t actually get you expelled?”
Asher smiled beatifically, as if he’d been waiting his whole life for someone to ask just that question. “How would you feel about some Mentos and Diet Coke?”
As it turned out, the Hardwicke administration was not terribly fond of explosions. Asher and I sat outside the headmaster’s office, awaiting judgment.
The headmaster’s assistant shook her head at the two of us. “Weren’t you just in here a few hours ago?” she asked me.
I did my best to look ashamed—and probably failed miserably. She turned her attention to my companion. “Asher Rhodes. What are we going to do with you?”
“Win me over with patience and gentle correction?” Asher suggested.
In retrospect, I probably should have taken the fall for this particular explosion myself, but I needed to get a good look at the photo on Raleigh’s wall, and that meant that I needed someone to distract the headmaster while I did it.
“Mr. Rhodes?” Headmaster Raleigh appeared at the door to his office. “I’ll see you first.”
Asher and I glanced at each other. The plan required us to go in together.
“Ladies first,” Asher said. “I insist.”
The headmaster sighed. “All right,” he capitulated. “Ms. Kendrick, I’ll see you first.”
“Don’t you think that’s kind of sexist?” I asked the secretary. She froze.
“I’m sure it’s not,” she said, not sounding sure in the least.
“Chivalry isn’t sexist,” Asher told me.
“If you’re suggesting that females need special treatment because they’re female,” I replied, “it kind of is.”
Headmaster Raleigh still hadn’t quite recovered from the accusation of sexism. “Asher,” he started to say. Then he changed his mind. “Tess.” He scowled. “Both of you, my office, now.”
The headmaster turned around. Asher winked at me, then followed the man into his office. I entered the room last and closed the door behind us. Immediately, my eyes found the picture I was looking for on the wall.
William Keyes. Judge Pierce. Major Bharani. A glare off the picture frame made it difficult for me to see any of them clearly.
“Ms. Kendrick, are you listening to me?” Headmaster Raleigh asked.
Not in the least. “Yes, sir.” The sir seemed to appease him somewhat.
“We have a zero tolerance policy for weapons here at Hardwicke,” the man continued.
“Can it really be considered a weapon if you can eat it?” I asked.
“Or drink it,” Asher added.
“If it explodes, it’s a weapon,” the headmaster declared. “I’m afraid the two of you have put me in a very difficult position.”
“I can only imagine,” Asher said consolingly. “You’ll probably have to suspend me from the lacrosse team.”
The headmaster hesitated slightly.
“And,” I added, “I’m sure you’re going to want to talk this incident over with my sister.”
“You’ll probably have to field all kinds of answers about the contents of Hardwicke’s vending machines,” Asher continued solemnly. “If only we’d considered the ramifications before deciding on this as our Yates Fellowship entry.”
“Yates Fellowship?” the headmaster repeated.
“I came in second last year,” Asher replied.
“They appreciate the ability to walk the line between scientific exploration and performance art—but this was really inexcusable. I thought setting up outside would be enough to mitigate any administrative concern, but clearly, I should have checked with someone.”
“Yes,” the headmaster said sternly, “you should have.”
Asher and I sat quietly.
“Do you think they’ll have to review security protocols?” I asked meekly. “If you consider the Mentos weaponized …”
“Oh God.” Asher turned to me, wide-eyed. “What if the media gets ahold of it?”
The headmaster stood suddenly, as if sitting had become severely uncomfortable.
He walked toward the window and stared out, clearly aggrieved.
Asher gestured to me, and I nodded, slipping my phone out of my bag.
I took a picture of the photo on the wall.
A quick glance at my phone told me the glare was a problem. I glanced over at the headmaster.
“I’m a reasonable man,” Headmaster Raleigh said, still staring out the window. “I hope I’ve impressed upon you how serious this is …”
I leaned to the side and tried to get a picture from a different angle as the headmaster droned on. The glare was still there. I rose up slightly on the balls of my feet, my butt leaving the chair, as I leaned over farther.
The second after I snapped the photo, the headmaster started turning back to face us. I thrust my phone into my pocket and tried to retake my seat. Asher thought fast and opted for a distraction: he leaned back in his chair and toppled over, yowling like a cat in a tub full of ice water.
Headmaster Raleigh startled. I leapt to Asher’s side.
“Don’t sue!” I yelled.
“Sue?” Raleigh repeated in horror.
“Where am I?” moaned Asher.
Mission complete.