Chapter Three - Cameron

Cameron changed as quickly as possible, but that didn’t keep the other swimmers from whipping him with their towels and throwing in a few verbal jabs for good measure. Blair tried to stick up for Cameron, but he didn’t want the support. He deserved the whippings and the insults.

The remainder of the swim meet had been canceled because of him. He hadn’t expected those stupid rats to make it that far. He figured they’d be stuck in the auditorium for a while, and if a couple of the rodents managed to escape, they would find their way outside.

As Cameron approached Principal Howell’s office, his swim bag slung over his shoulder, he avoided the gazes of the spectators who were leaving the school. Most of them probably didn’t realize this was his fault, but the guilt still gnawed at him.

He paused, staring at the open doorway in front of him. Principal Howell was at her desk, while Coach Kall and Mr. Kent sat in chairs along the periphery of the room.

Cameron’s coach was the first to see him. He motioned for Cameron to come in. Cameron dragged his feet as he entered, his gaze darting between the three faces staring at him.

They need me. I’m their star swimmer.

That was what he had thought before that morning, anyway. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

Principal Howell glanced at her phone before her attention settled on Cameron. “We will have one more joining us,” she said. “But please, have a seat while we wait.”

She said it as if Cameron hadn’t been best friends with her son for the past six years. As if she hadn’t invited him over for dinner every Friday night. As if their families hadn’t gone camping together just last summer.

Now he was just another kid that she had to deal with.

Another moment later, Blair appeared in the doorway.

“Hi, Mom,” he said.

Principal Howell’s lips tightened. “Have a seat.”

Apparently, she was also no longer Blair’s mother.

No one spoke for a moment, so Mr. Kent took the lead. He placed the box on the table, the one with the holes poked into the lid. “You two recognize this?”

Cameron could lie and say he’d never seen it before. But somehow, they knew the box belonged to him. He wasn’t sure what the giveaway had been, but he had a feeling that lying would make things worse. “I do. It’s the box I used to bring several rats to school.”

Mr. Kent turned the box. Cameron’s treasures was scrawled on the side. Cameron had found it stuffed in the back of his closet, full of seashells and other trinkets he’d gathered on family trips. He’d dumped them out before stuffing the rats inside.

Coach Kall rubbed his eyes, like Cameron’s admission had caused him pain. “Where did you get them?”

Cameron’s chest tightened with guilt. “My house. As the weather has cooled, the rats have started sneaking in. My dad is a big softy and doesn’t want to kill them, so he catches them in traps instead and has me release them just outside town.”

“Looks like not all of them made it this time,” Principal Howell said, her voice soft.

“No, ma’am.”

“And what role did my son play in this?” she asked. “He is your best friend, after all. I can’t imagine you decided to pull this off on your own.”

Yeah, Blair had been there. But he hadn’t done much. Cameron had already been trying to figure out what he could do as a senior prank, and it just so happened that Blair had been frustrated that his younger brother would rather prance around on a stage than join the swim team.

“He didn’t do a thing,” Cameron said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blair open his mouth like he was going to refute what Cameron had just said, but he stepped on Blair’s toes to stop him. No sense in both of them going down for this. So what if Blair had given Cameron the idea? If he told the principal that, things would be much worse for her son than for Cameron.

The principal’s eyes narrowed. “I have a hard time believing that. Coach Kall says you both arrived late for the meet this morning. Together.”

Oh, crap.

Cameron held his panic at bay and focused on keeping his expression neutral. “It’s the truth,” he said with a small shrug. “It’s my box, my rats, and I’m the one who released them on the stage this morning. I do want you to know that I didn’t mean for them to make it down to the pool. It was only supposed to be a harmless prank.” He cracked what he hoped was a charming smile. “And you have to give me points for creativity. Rats…the Pied Piper…”

Coach Kall smirked at that—the first sign someone might be on his side—but it disappeared just as quickly.

Principal Howell steepled her fingers beneath her chin. “We have no evidence that places Blair there, so it seems the full brunt of the punishment will land on you, Mr. Taylor.” She turned to her son. “You may leave.”

“But—”

Cameron stamped on Blair’s foot again.

Blair looked like he wanted to protest, and Cameron wouldn’t have expected less from his best friend, but in the end, Blair gave a small nod and left the office.

“So…my punishment…” Cameron said. “I’m thinking I could help clean after school, or maybe maintenance. I’m pretty good at fixing things. I get that from my dad. Of course, if you don’t feel you need anything in that department, I could—”

Principal Howell interrupted him. “I had some time to think while you were slowly making your way here. I’ve already chosen your punishment.”

Coach Kall and Mr. Kent sat up straighter. It appeared she hadn’t shared any of this with them.

“You will be suspended from the swim team until after Christmas break. This means you don’t participate in practices or meets.”

Cameron’s stomach felt like it had been ground into mush. Was there a garbage can in the room? He needed to throw up.

Mr. Kent smiled, looking absolutely delighted. “Very fitting,” he said.

Coach Kall stood, his hands balled into fists. He was anything but happy about the principal’s decision. “I know what he did was wrong, and believe me, I’m just as upset with him as you are. But there has to be another way to discipline him that doesn’t involve his suspension from the team. He’s our strongest swimmer and we need him. The school needs him.”

Principal Howell eyed the coach, not appearing intimidated by the coach’s large stature. “And what did you have in mind?”

“Maybe he could have longer practices than the others—make him do extra laps—”

“That would only benefit him and the team by making him stronger,” the principal said, shaking her head. “Besides, I wasn’t finished.”

There was more? The principal had already punched where she knew it would hurt most. What was she trying to do, send a message to the rest of the school—make him an example? Dread settled in. That was exactly what she was trying to do.

“What is it?” Cameron asked, his voice small and resigned. Whatever it was, he had a feeling he wouldn’t be hanging out at Blair’s house anytime soon. Cameron didn’t think he could stand being in the same house as this woman. Not for a long time.

“Cameron won’t have time for swim practices and extra laps because he’s going to be busy with the school play.”

Mr. Kent looked decidedly less delighted at that proclamation. In fact, no one in the room seemed pleased except Principal Howell herself.

Cameron choked on his own spit as he said, “Excuse me?”

“That boy ruined an important rehearsal for us,” Mr. Kent added on. “He has no business being anywhere near the stage.”

Cameron nodded. “Yeah, what he said.”

Principal Howell smiled. “Which is exactly why he will be a part of this year’s production of A Christmas Carol. It seems ‘that boy,’ as you call him, has a few lessons he needs to learn. I think taking him outside of his comfort zone and having him interact with those who do not normally run within his social circle will be beneficial for him.”

Meaning her son. Was she trying to get them to spend less time together? She hadn’t seemed to mind their friendship before now.

“I guess I could make him part of the ensemble or something,” Mr. Kent grumbled, standing up to leave.

“And how often would they meet to rehearse, once a week?” asked the principal.

Mr. Kent gave a small shrug. “We haven’t worked out a rehearsal schedule yet, but yeah, probably. Sometimes two or three times a week, depending on what scenes we’re working on and how close we are to the performance.”

“And the speaking parts. How often are they meeting?”

Cameron could almost see the gears moving in Mr. Kent’s head…and Cameron knew exactly where they ended up.

Oh, no. She wouldn’t.

“Like I said,” Mr. Kent said slowly, “it depends on the character and the scene.”

“But more often,” Principal Howell pressed. “Would you say four to five times a week?”

“Could be,” he relented.

“I don’t want Cameron using this time away from the swim team as an excuse to goof off. Otherwise, it might not be rats next time.”

What was she suggesting, that if he didn’t have a principal role in A Christmas Carol, he was going to go off the deep end? What exactly did she think was the next step after rats…pigeons? Snakes? A herd of cows?

Hey, that last one wasn’t a bad idea—in fact, it was brilliant. Would it be best if the whole herd was inside the school? What if he could figure out a way to get them onto the roof? It would probably be more humane if they were inside the temperature-controlled building—

“He would need to audition for that kind of role,” Mr. Kent protested. “I can’t put him in a major role and expect people to pay to see the production.”

“Now wait a moment,” Cameron said, offended the drama teacher had automatically assumed Cameron would be terrible at it. “Don’t be so quick to jump to conclusions.”

Mr. Kent folded his arms, clearly not buying it. Okay, maybe Cameron could work on his acting skills. “Are you saying that you’ve acted in a play before?”

“I’ve taken acting classes. Does that count?” Wait, why was he trying to prove he could do this? He should be doing the opposite. “But I was in kindergarten, so I’m not sure that counts for much.”

Coach Kall spoke up at this point, apparently not content to sit quietly any longer. “What if I made Cameron my assistant or something? When the swimmers need something like their towel or a drink or something, he would have to get it for them. The equivalent to a water boy. He wouldn’t be allowed to swim, plus the other boys would give him a hard time about it. Trust me, it wouldn’t be an enjoyable experience.”

On the other hand…

“But you know, I was the best in my class, even as young as I was,” Cameron said. “I’m practically Shakespeare. Or Mozart. Or…Tom Hanks.”

Mr. Kent snorted. “I’d be surprised if you could read a Shakespearean play and have an inkling of what was going on, let alone perform it.” He paused, raising an eyebrow. “And I’m fairly confident when I say you are no Tom Hanks.”

Well, that was just mean.

Principal Howell gave everyone in the room a hard stare. “I won’t discuss this any further. Cameron Taylor, you are suspended from the swim team as of this moment. You are not to set foot at any of their practices, though you are permitted to attend their meets as a spectator.” She turned her gaze on Coach Kall. “Is that understood?”

He responded with a staring contest. Amazingly, Principal Howell did the same, and she won out.

“Fine,” Coach Kall relented.

“In addition, Cameron, you will participate in the school play, A Christmas Carol.” She threw a glance toward Mr. Kent before turning her attention back to Cameron. “You will attend every rehearsal and performance. If I hear you are uncooperative, your suspension from the swim team will be indefinite.”

“What if he can’t act…like is really, really terrible?” Mr. Kent asked. “It isn’t fair to take that part away from a more deserving student.”

“Fine,” Principal Howell said with a wave of her hand, as if she couldn’t care less. “Have him audition. If he’s as terrible as you think he is, put him on set design or something. But you make sure he’s there after school at least four days a week.”

“I was the victim today,” Mr. Kent muttered. “And yet, I’m the one who is being punished.”

“I’m not going to ask if there are any questions,” Principal Howell said, standing. It seemed this was her way of telling them they were done. “As I understand it, auditions are in two weeks. Is that correct, Mr. Kent?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said grudgingly.

She glanced at Cameron. “Coordinate with Mr. Kent so you don’t miss them.”

Cameron didn’t answer, but instead followed Coach Kall and Mr. Kent as they left the office.

“Oh, and Cameron?”

He paused, bracing himself for whatever else she had for him. “Yes?” When he glanced over his shoulder, he was surprised to see her stern features had softened, and she looked more like his best friend’s mom.

“I’m doing this because I feel it’s what is best for you. I’m not trying to be mean.” She paused. “It’s your senior year, and I care about what happens once you and Blair graduate.”

Cameron turned to face her, his anger toward her dissipating. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

She raised an eyebrow, and he grinned.

“Or at least that much trouble.”

“I know you said Blair wasn’t involved, but maybe you could encourage him to audition with you.” Principal Howell said it as a mom, and it almost had a pleading tone to it. She really did care about what happened to them.

Cameron wasn’t sure why she thought that being in this play was going to help them, but she really did believe they needed this.

“I’ll try,” he said, though he knew there was no way Blair would ever get up on that stage. Especially because that would mean giving up the swim team for a couple of months.

Cameron left quickly and found his best friend still waiting for him outside the office.

“What did she say?” Blair asked. “Are you suspended?”

Cameron paused. “You know that Thespian Society your brother loves so much? How do you feel about joining it?”