Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“Breathe deep,” Fox murmured, his voice seeming to roll to the cadence of his touch. “It doesn’t work if you don’t take in the scent, as well.”
Summer started to nod, then caught himself and held still as that gentle touch massaged a quiet, relaxing sensation into his temples, the oil’s warmth seeming to penetrate deep down to slowly melt away the tension and pain throbbing in his skull. He tried to time his breaths, counting in and out so he would hold them long enough to enjoy the scent, tingling his nostrils and flowing through him until each breath felt as though it spread relaxation from his lungs out to the very tips of his fingers.
“S’nice,” he murmured. “Helping. Thank you.”
“You seemed as if you needed something before you spontaneously combusted.” Gentle amusement, turning Fox’s voice husky. “You are not wasting your time, Summer. Even if they were not willing to listen today, they will still remember and may come around later. You have let them know their sons need them, when they may not have been aware before. That is no small thing.”
“I know. I do.” Summer stopped that massaging touch by capturing Fox’s wrist, turning his head to press his lips to its underside. “I guess I’d just...wanted to see something more helpful happen today.”
“Change takes time. Change involving people, even more so.” Fox’s fingers curled against Summer’s cheek, just a warm trace of oil and then rough knuckles. “Few things terrify people more than feeling challenged in their preconceived notions of themselves and others, and being forced to take action in the face of knowledge they do not want to absorb into their worldview when it might shake the foundations of their egos.”
Summer opened his eyes, looking into that silvered, reflective gaze so close to his own, that face that even in this gentle moment of comfort was so inscrutable, so strange.
Is that you? he wondered. Are you afraid of changing this path you’ve set yourself on, because you can’t face looking at who you’ll be if that happens?
But he couldn’t say it.
He only smiled, squeezing Fox’s wrist before letting go. “We should get through the Rothfusses before they get annoyed and leave. But thank you. I feel better now.”
Fox said nothing, yet the look that lingered on Summer seemed oddly meaningful, as he withdrew to cap the vial and tuck it away in his desk once more.
Summer rolled his shoulders, breathed in with that delicate scent still hovering around him and calming his senses, then leaned out into the hall and beckoned to the Rothfuss couple with a smile.
“Sorry for the wait,” he said. “But it’s good to meet you. I’m Summer Hemlock, one of the instructors in the psychology elective track.”
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.”