Free Liars' Games (Project Chameleon Book 1) by Susan Finlay Page B

first day at Midland, she’d bought five more of these suits. Then, a couple days later, she’d overheard faculty whispering behind her back, saying things like ‘she looks all hoity-toity in her snooty suits’ or ‘she thinks she’s better than the rest of us’. And so back to the mall she’d gone. Of course she’d also had to go again to buy that black dress she’d worn when she went out to dinner with Steve.
    T he morning at school raced by. When she glanced at her watch and saw how late it was, Claire gasped. Being late for the meeting was something she couldn’t afford. She dashed out the building, jumped into her car, and sped to Cameron High School, arriving only five minutes before the round-table meeting was scheduled to begin.
    She walked into the school and then stopped in her tracks. The difference between this school and hers was jaw dropping. Cameron was like a fairy tale castle full of well-dressed students carrying books, looking eager to learn, while Midland was like Dracula’s castle full of dark and dangerous students who, for the most part, seemed to come to school to buy or sell drugs.
    Sh aking off her shock, she hunted for the conference room Steve had mentioned in the email. She found an empty chair at a ten-person conference table and sat down. Porcupine came by and handed each attendee a bag lunch, after which Steve opened the meeting. He started out with a few droll opening comments and then asked Porcupine— oops, she must stop thinking of her as that, and use her name, Helen Jackson —to read the minutes from the previous Round-Table Meeting. When she finished, Steve had everyone introduce themselves since this was Claire’s first meeting.
    As they ate lunch, one high school principal after another gave verbal reports of issues, accomplishments, updates on items from the previous meeting, etc.
    Some of the reports and discussions nearly put Claire to sleep, especially since she hadn’t fallen asleep until two o’clock in the morning because Marcus had been hyperactive. The last two reports had captured her full attention, though, because they had garnered criticism that seemed to her unwarranted.
    The current speaker, Manuel Rodriguez, the principal of Cooper High School, was reporting on their science fair competition that one of his school’s star students had won. The student’s project was to be featured on the local news tomorrow.
    The Vice-President of the Board, Edward Malone, who was a heavy-set man with salt and pepper hair, said, “That’s what we need to see. This district needs more star students and teachers. Good job, Manuel. Don’t you agree, John?”
    While John Richmond, the President of the Board, sipped his coffee and seemed to be pondering his answer, someone stood up and poured herself a fresh cup of coffee. Two people appeared to be checking for messages on their mobile phones, and another person was flipping through pages in a notebook.
    Finally, John spoke. “An award, especially in a subject like science, is good. Don’t get me wrong . It’s going to take more than one award, though, to increase the district’s ranking and its prestige in the community. This district’s image is well below par. Manuel and all of you need to push harder on your teachers and students.” He paused, and glanced at his iPad, then said, “Look at his school’s record on sports, for example. They’re near the bottom in every activity. What does that say about Manuel’s leadership?”
    Claire watched Manuel, a middle-aged man in a well-worn suit, who sat across the table from her. His smile melted, and he loosened his necktie and wiped beads of perspiration off his forehead . That poor man. She would talk to him after the meeting and let him know he had her support despite John’s unreasonableness. No doubt John wasn’t an educator and didn’t know how difficult the job was.
    John Richmond was white-haired and bronze-skinned, in his sixties, Claire guessed. When