Free Prep School Experiment by Emily Evans Page B

together.”
    Grandmother nodded at her husband. “Go ahead. Tell them.”
    Grandfather nodded. “After you told us about Braedon, I mean, Rhys , your mother and I felt we had to meet him.”
    The librarian put her fingertips to her lips. “You will. November 9 th . We’re counting the days until this election is over.”
    The senator nodded and put his arm over the back of the librarian’s chair. “You don’t have to agree with our decision, sir. We’ve heard your opinion on this. Michelle and I made the decision together. We want what’s best for our son.”
    The librarian’s gray eyes searched her parents’ faces. “Mom. Dad. What did you do?” She dropped her fork and the clatter carried through the microphone. “Did you go meet Rhys?”
    There was silence in response to the question.
    The senator’s father used the opportunity to wave his server forward. He used a quick gesture and she placed a plate of chicken-fried steak with mashed potatoes and gravy in front of him. He smiled like he’d gotten away with something and turned his attention back to the camera. “What’s that, Cal?”
    Nice.
    The senator spoke before Grandfather Brentwood could answer. “You don’t have to agree with our decision, but you have to respect it.”
    “Calm down, son,” the senator’s own father said. “There’s no protecting your boy from us. We’re his grandparents. What’s the harm in meeting him? There ain’t no press in Alaska.” He hacked into his chicken-fried steak. “Let me know when you’re going, Cal. I’ll dig out a parka and fire up the jet.”
    Grandfather Brentwood glanced at his wife. “This is not going quite as I’d expected. Well, we met Rhys and—”
    “What do you mean you met him?” The librarian leaned forward. “When? How’s he doing? Is he okay? Does he have everything he needs? Does he have enough books?”
    Grandmother took charge of the situation and clicked on the camera in front of Rhys. His image popped up on the screen to the left of his grandparents.
    Silence.
    “Hey, Rhys,” Christian said.
    “Hey.”
    “Christian, go to your room.” The senator’s voice was serious. “We need to talk to your grandparents in private.”
    Christian obliged him by scooping up his bowl of salad. He nodded to everyone, gave a thumbs-up to Rhys, and left the video screen.
    “What did you do?” the senator said, spacing out the words.
    Geez. It wasn’t as if he’d gotten kicked out. “I didn’t do anything,” Rhys said. “They offered. I said, ‘yes.’”
    The senator blinked and held up his hand. “Not you, kiddo. I’m talking to your grandfather.”
    A hand slapped the table, drawing their attention to the West Texas screen. “That you, boy?” He took a sip of his iced tea. Rhys bet it was sweetened. “I’m your Grandpa Wentworth calling from the ranch.”
    “Howdy,” Rhys drawled.
    The old man grinned big. “He may look like you, Cal, but he sounds like me.”
    The librarian said, “Rhys, are you okay?”
    “I’m fine.”
    “He belongs with family,” Grandmother said to the librarian.
    “I know that, Mom. Alaska was always temporary.”
    “I assume this is a visit, and you’ll have Rhys back at his boarding school in time for class later in the week?” The senator formed the sentence like a question, but he meant it as a command.
    Grandfather Brentwood stiffened and sat up straighter. “No. He’s staying with us.”
    “Mom,” Michelle said. “Dad.”
    Grandfather Brentwood’s hard line cracked in the face of his daughter. He blew out a breath. “The science teacher there drugged some of the students. Including Rhys. He’s safer with us.”
    Rhys felt his face heat as all the gazes turned to him.
    Freaking moron, letting himself get drugged like a naïve sheltered kid.
    “An experimental vitamin regimen and the side effects have been giving him trouble,” Grandfather Brentwood said. “I’m sure you all can agree that Rhys is better off here,