Bad Heiress Day by Allie Pleiter

about Michael.”
    Nope, no good at all.
     
    “He did what?”
    “He wrote on his desk.”
    Jack snapped his tie off with something close to disgust.
    “Mike got a detention for writing on his desk? How bad can that be?”
    “Well,” Darcy tried to soften her voice as she folded a fourth bath towel, “he wrote a lot. An entire song. Well, the words to a song, actually.”
    Mike kicked his dress shoes onto the closet floor. “Why am I sure it wasn’t ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’?”
    “Mike covered his algebra class desk with the lyrics to a rock song. A rather depressing, anxious one. Social angst, heartbreak, despondent slacker kind of stuff.”
    “Great.”
    “Evidently at first they thought Mike had written it. The song I mean. That the words were his own. Which, of course, sent the school counselor into action. You know, recent death in the family and all.” Darcy snatched another towel from the laundry basket and began folding it aggressively. “Only when things began to heat up did he admit it was just song lyrics.”
    “Oh,” moaned Jack sarcastically, “that makes it so much better.”
    “I made Mike show me the lyrics off the CD liner sheet. They weren’t violent or anything like that, just rather depressing. Dark and dreary.”
    “Lovely. Did he say why he did it?”
    “He…said he was bored.” Darcy hesitated, knowing this would just broil up the whole Mike-needs-to-go-to-private-school argument on top of everything else.
    Jack blew a breath out sharply. “Can’t he just twiddle his thumbs like the rest of the world? He’s never done this before.”
    “Even Mr. Tortman admitted they haven’t been completely happy with this new math teacher,” Darcy offered, not at all sure that was the right thing to say.
    “That’s no excuse. This is dumb, Dar. Even for Mike.”
    “I don’t think he ever thought anything like this would come of it.”
    Jack looked at her. “So you’re defending him?” This was getting nowhere fast.
    “No, Jack, I’m not defending him. I’m just trying to figure out how this happened, same as you.”
    “I know how this happened. Mike needs more challenge. We’ve been saying that for months. When is the last time he’s even brought math homework home? He finishes everything in school. Early. He hasn’t brought home anything lower than an A-in math for two years and I never even see him putting in much of an effort. We can’t let this slide. He could be doing so much more than coasting. Mike’s got to have someone teaching him at his level.”
    “I know, ” Darcy shot back, stuffing the towels into the linen closet as if she were loading a cannon. “I said the same thing to Mr. Torture Man.”
    Jack looked at her. “Mr. Who? ”
    Darcy hadn’t even realized she called him that. Oh, no, had she called him Torture Man to his face…uh phone, too, without realizing it? There’s something that should really help the situation. “Mr. Tortman. The kids call him Mr. Torture Man.”
    Jack started to laugh, despite himself. “You didn’t call him Mr. Torture Man, did you? You know how you are with names.”
    “No, I’m sure I didn’t.” When Jack made a face at her, though, even she started to laugh. “A least I’m pretty sure I didn’t.”
    “Let’s hope so.” The tension in Jack’s shoulders softened a bit. “Look, I’ve had a lousy day at work.” He came over to her, helping her with the last towel. “This isn’t a new argument, Dar. We’ve been talking about this for over a year. You know Mike needs a more advanced education—at least in math—and who knows what other subjects. For crying out loud, we were so frustrated last spring when those test scores came back. We both said he should be at Simmons Academy, not at Nichols. Back then it was impossible. Now, it may be an option for us. Lots of things may be options for us now.” He stared at her, a tall dark pillar of sensibility. “Are you going to let a goofy idea of your dad’s