"Brick."
"You've done business around enough union guys, trucking companies, concrete suppliers and independent freight outfits to know my name."
Several adults in the crowd exchanged looks.
Jackson did not claim to control them.
He did not need to.
"My shop services half a dozen fleet owners working Riverside. Men who trust me hear my brother was left black and blue while your kid hid behind your name, business gets uncomfortable."
Bill understood.
"I'm asking you not to involve my company."
Jackson looked at Trent.
"Then don't make me."
"Put Trent on."
Jackson extended the phone.
Trent took it with both hands.
"Dad."
Bill's voice exploded.
"What did you do?"
"It isn't what he says."
Cody flinched.
Jackson noticed.
So did Brian.
Trent continued rapidly.
"Cody's lying. We mess around sometimes. Everybody does."
Brian stepped forward.
"I saw the injuries."
Trent stopped.
Bill heard.
"Who's that?"
"Brian Matthews," Brian said. "Head football coach."
"Coach, are you saying my son assaulted this boy?"
"I'm saying Cody has multiple injuries consistent with repeated intentional blows, and he identified Trent and Weston."
Bill became silent.
Trent's face changed.
"Dad, listen..."
"Did you take money from that kid?"
Trent did not answer.
"Trent."
"It wasn't stealing."
"What was it?"
"He owed me."
"For what?"
"A jacket."
"What jacket?"
"He spilled something."
Jackson closed his eyes briefly.
Even Bill seemed stunned.
"How much was the jacket cleaning?"
"Forty."
"How much did he give you?"
Trent stared at the pavement.
"Forty."
"Then what did he owe you?"
No answer.
Bill's voice grew colder.
"What did he owe you, Trent?"
"Interest."
Someone in the crowd gasped.
Bill spoke slowly.
"Interest?"
Trent's eyes began watering.
"It was a joke."
"Did you hit him?"
"No."
Cody looked at him.
Weston shifted.
Trent saw Weston move.
"Weston did most of it."
Weston's head snapped up.
"You told me to!"
The confession burst out before Weston could stop it.
Silence.
Then phones began moving.
Students whispered.
Weston realized what he had done.
His face went gray.
Jackson looked toward Principal Wallace.
"There you go."
Wallace looked sick.
Trent shoved the phone back toward Jackson.
"I don't want it."
Bill's voice thundered from the speaker.
"Trent, you pick that phone back up."
Trent obeyed.
"Dad."
"You are going inside that building."
"Dad..."
"You are going to write down exactly what you did."
"They'll expel me."
"I don't care."
"My transcript..."
"I don't care."
"College..."
"I don't care!"
Bill's voice echoed across the courtyard.
"You hurt a fifteen-year-old kid because he spilled chocolate milk on you?"
Trent began crying.
"Dad, please."
"Do you know what I've spent seventeen years trying to give you?"
Trent wiped his face.
"Everything."
"No."
Bill's voice broke slightly.
"Apparently, I gave you permission to become somebody I don't recognize."
That hurt Trent more than the shouting.
His shoulders fell.
Bill continued.
"I am leaving the Riverside office now. I will be there in twenty minutes."