Chapter Text
Don't raise your voice. Improve your argument.
"Specter…? Charlotte Specter?"
Charlie didn't move, but she glanced around the room, making a point to avoid the high school secretary's gaze. The young woman's tone revealed a frustration that she was trying her best to mask, a tiredness with the games of the young students she was charged with managing.
Miss Hayes was barely older than most of the students she had to corral into her boss's office. And she was still considered new, having only started at the beginning of the school year. Still learning the ins and outs of dealing with teenagers...Of when she should be a bit more strict. Of when they were taking advantage.
Charlie wouldn't have tried this type of stuff with the old secretary. Mrs. Elias had been a receptionist there at the school longer than Charlie had been alive, older than her brother. Maybe even older than her father would have been if he was still alive. Had she not retired at the end of the last school year, Charlie would have hauled it into the headmaster's office immediately. Facing him would have been less daunting than risking it out in the main office with Mrs. Elias.
But Miss Hayes wasn't Mrs. Elias. Miss Hayes didn't scare Charlie in the slightest, so she sat still, focused on the music pumping through the small buds shoved into her ears. A bold move, maybe. Headphones weren't actually allowed during school hours, but her long hair and the scarf wrapped around her neck hid them well-enough. In the scheme of things, the headphones were nothing. At this point, Charlie was already in trouble. She figured she might as well enjoy herself.
The music helped. It drowned out everything around her and within her. She always played her music loud, loud enough that she could almost feel the sounds in her body as she closed her eyes and folded her arms across her chest.
She heard her name once again. And once again, Charlie ignored it. The exchange between the secretary and Charlie was almost like a game at this point. Charlie pretended not to hear her name being called and the secretary allowed it without much complaint until Oliver—Dr. James finally made his way out to fetch the girl himself. And considering what had brought her to the office today, Charlie had no desire to get in to parlay with the man any quicker than necessary. She was happy to let him continue working on whatever it was that was keeping him on the other side of his office door—his other headmasterly duties, whatever those were.
Because Charlie Specter was many things, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew where her day might be heading by this point. She knew this was the type of thing the headmaster liked to send her home for. He'd chat with her first. Her only chance at turning the tide. Her only chance at shifting things to her favor. And depending on how that went, he'd get Donna on the phone, calling to let her know what was going on, giving her the same detail he'd give to the parent of a student. And then Ray would come to pick her up, dropping her at the office downtown where—depending on her mood—Donna would either let Charlie hide out in the file room or she would carve out a few minutes in Harvey's afternoon schedule for a lecture.
And Charlie didn't particularly want a lecture. Nor did she think she was deserving of one.
Oliver tapped Charlie on the shoulder and she looked up to him, flashing him the briefest of smiles as she tugged the earbuds from her ears, not even bothering to hide them.
"Hey, Ollie."
Oliver shook his head, the hint of a smile there in his features before he steeled them. He folded his arms over his chest, indicating he meant some sort of business by the gesture. He wasn't in the mood for her attempts at charm.
"Get moving, Charlie," he answered, thumbing towards his open office door.
Charlie eased out of the chair without fighting him, slipping into his office while Oliver lingered for a moment. He looked briefly at his secretary before following after the girl. He felt the need to apologize on Charlie's behalf but he refrained, offering Miss Hayes a smile and a half-hearted eye roll instead.
Despite the frequency with which the girl found herself sent off to his office, Charlotte Specter was actually one of Oliver's favorite students. He found her to be witty and charming and intelligent. She was a good kid at heart, something which couldn't be said for all of the students he worked with. And despite making a consistent effort at not showing favoritism, sometimes he faltered.
They had history, him and the Specters. It made the boundaries a little more complicated. Oliver couldn't help but have a soft spot for the first girl to ever ask for his hand in marriage, even if she had only been five at the time. He couldn't help but show a bit of favoritism for his ex-roommate's little sister. He and Harvey had been roommates back at NYU. And then again from the summer of Harvey's first clerkship until he started at Pearson-Hardman, until he upgraded to that exquisite penthouse downtown.
It felt like ages ago now, back when they were barely adults—careless twenty-somethings just out of grad school and law school, and Charlie Specter had been a kid—practically a baby. She had been so sweet back then. Sweet and compassionate and smart as hell. Oliver supposed she still was all of those things now. When she wanted to be, at least. But lately the girl…well, Oliver supposed she was just being a teenager now. She was full of the same angst and smart-assery the rest of her age cohort embodied. And all of those traits were only made stronger by the fact that the little smart ass in his office now knew that he had a soft spot for her. And she had a distinct lack of respect for his authority—his title—because of it.
Oliver steeled his face as he closed the office door and headed to the seat behind his desk.
Bouncing contentedly on the exercise ball Oliver kept stashed in a corner of the room, Charlie studied Oliver's facial expression, noting that he wasn't smiling. She huffed out a breath at that, realizing quite quickly that their connected pasts might not be to her benefit this time. It might even end up spiting her.
Without being asked, Charlie rolled the ball back to its corner and took a seat in one of the two formal leather chairs placed in front of Oliver's desk, offering him that small measure of deference despite having every intention of talking her way out of whatever he was thinking.
"You know, Charlie, I don't think that I have ever—in all my years of teaching—had a bigger pain in the ass student than you."
Charlie let out a small chuckle at his candor, stopping herself quickly when she realized that he hadn't been joking. Oliver settled his arms across his chest, leaning back slightly in his chair as he waited for Charlie to gather herself.
But something about it made Charlie want to laugh. Something about their shared pasts, something about knowing him so well outside of this context put her at ease even though he was clearly unhappy, clearly trying to drain that ease from her body.
Charlie cleared her throat and sat up straighter. "I'm one of your best students, Ollie."
Oliver's left eyebrow edged up slightly. It was true. God, it was true, but that was far from the point.
"Charlotte," he said, a warning.
"Right, of course," she offered, amending her statement. "I'm one of your best students, Dr. James."
He exhaled forcefully, meeting her eyes. "Charlotte."
"What?" she hissed, raising her hands off the armrests in frustration.
Charlie was a little too comfortable with Oliver, and with most adults in any position resembling one of authority, for that matter. She knew it and yet, interacting with adults in that way simply came natural to her. She'd spent much of her childhood surrounded by adults. It wasn't her fault that she'd been socialized with the belief that she didn't have to be deferential just because someone was an adult.
"You've gotten yourself into plenty of trouble already today," he offered. "You may want to adjust your attitude accordingly."
Charlie slumped back in her chair, allowing her arms to settle over her chest, mirroring Oliver. "I didn't do anything wrong, not really."
Oliver arched an eyebrow. "You can't argue with your teachers like that and—"
"I wasn't arguing with her," Charlie interrupted as she pushed herself up in her seat. "I was explaining why she was wrong. It was a discussion and—"
"You were being disrespectful. I've got the write up right here in front of me."
Oliver motioned towards the long-winded note that had arrived after Charlie made it to the office. Charlie couldn't read it upside down, but she could see that the document spanned two pages, which meant he had a lot more information than she would have liked.
"You have her side of the story."
"And if how you're acting right now is any reflection of how you were in her class, I'd say her side of the story is an honest account."
"Well, if I can offer an honest account," Charlie said, her tone mocking the borrowed words, "I don't think her opinion even deserved my respect. She was being an ignorant, incompetent a—"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Charlotte," he said, his words coming out suddenly sharp and firm, a tone Oliver had harnessed and cultivated over years of teaching and coaching and serving as a school administrator.
Oliver knew what Charlie had been about to say. He knew the girl had been about to dig her hole even deeper. He could sense in the cadence of her words that Charlie had been about to call her teacher an asshole and he watched her now, observing as Charlie bit down and chewed on the word, allowing it to disintegrate in her mouth before she swallowed and settled herself.
"Now," Oliver started, "can you and I have this conversation responsibly—respectfully," he amended, "or should I call Donna and have her clear your brother's schedule so the three of us can discuss it together?"
Charlie shook her head quickly before folding her hands in her lap. Even if she was already headed for an early dismissal, even if she was already in trouble, she knew there were levels to this. And having Harvey come to the school for an impromptu meeting was something she wanted to avoid. Things were always worse when her brother had to leave work because of her. Plus, she could already hear the opening lines of her brother's lecture anyway, a line she knew Harvey would have no trouble delivering to her in right front of Oliver, to hell with Charlie's embarrassment.
'What have I always told you, Charlotte? Don't raise your voice. Improve your argument.'
Oliver watched as Charlie processed the offer, her face a bit flushed and her features painted with sudden concern as she played the possibility of Harvey coming down to the school through to completion in her mind. Because though Charlie thought her argument was pretty sound either way, she had raised her voice. And she had used a few choice words she likely shouldn't have used...
"Listen, Charlie. I know that you have a lot of opinions. And you're curious. And you think outside the box. Those are great qualities to have, especially for someone your age. I truly mean that," Oliver said. "And you're a damn smart kid, Charlie. But you're not always right. You don't know everything despite your conviction. That's why you're here in this school. To learn. You're allowed your own opinion. And you're allowed to express it, but you have to learn to do it respectfully. Is that understood?"
Charlie still looked like she wasn't paying him much attention, clearly distracted in her own thoughts, but she nodded after a beat so Oliver was satisfied that she had at least heard him even if the actual words had yet to sink in.
"Alright," he nodded. "I'm sending you home for the rest of the day. Take some time to think this through and give me 2,000 words worth of the best reflection you can come up with. I want it on my desk before first period tomorrow."
Charlie nodded vaguely as Oliver busied himself briefly with his computer, clicking through the few emails that had arrived in his inbox over the past few minutes. He watched her out of the corner of his eye and Charlie let out a huff, looking up at him as he focused on the screen.
"Ollie?"
Oliver pulled his eyes away from the screen upon hearing his name and met Charlie's eye. Something like regret lingered there—he could see it swimming. Just like he could see her hands gripping the arms of the chair before she settled them in her lap.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Really, I am. I heard what you said and I'll try to be better. I swear."
"Good," Oliver said, giving her a nod. "I appreciate you saying that," he said before shifting his eyes back to his computer.
Fuck. Charlie let the word repeat a few times in her mind. It hadn't entirely been a manipulation. There was a part of her that was sorry anytime she got hauled into Oliver's office, but she had also hoped the apology would be to her benefit.
"Just…" she started again, pulling his gaze back to her. "Do you have to send me home? It won't happen again, okay? Just let me stay until the end of the day and I'll get you the reflection and it won't happen again. I swear. Please?"
Oliver forced himself not to smirk. He knew what she was doing. Trying to keep her brother out of it. Maybe if Oliver hadn't known her better, the manipulation would have worked.
"I appreciate the apology, but it's non-negotiable," he answered, pulling up the student contact information in the system. He could have dealt with it himself. He could have given her a detention or some other type of consequence, sending her back to class to let the teacher handle it. Oliver had an extensive education and years of experience in dealing with teenagers, but he knew that Harvey was better equipped to deal with his sister. And unlike some of the parents and guardians he dealt with on a regular basis, those too caught up with their own lives to deal with the children they were supposedly raising, Oliver knew that Harvey would actually take the time to address it. To parent her. Harvey would make sure his sister learned something from this. He'd do it better than Oliver ever could because Harvey understood his sister better. The two were so alike in many ways, not the least of which being that the Specters were famously known for being major pains in the ass—to each other and to the rest of the world.
Charlie's shoulders slumped for a brief moment before she suddenly jolted, sitting up straight in the chair as her stomach released a long, low growl. Charlie's hands jumped to cover her abdomen, her cheeks heating with embarrassment.
"Did you miss lunch because of this mess?"
Charlie nodded and Oliver wordlessly reached into his desk retrieving a plastic bag from the deli down the street. She wouldn't eat his sandwich—the kid had always been particular about meat, but he tossed her the bag of chips meant to accompany his sandwich.
"You're lucky I like you, kid."
Charlie muttered a thank you as she opened the bag and took out a chip even though she didn't feel particularly lucky. Even if other headmasters wouldn't put up with her as patiently as Oliver did, they probably wouldn't be so quick to call home either. Either way, she was still grateful to him and she kept quiet as Oliver dialed, accepting her fate. The phone rang out just once over the speakerphone before a familiar voice punctuated the sound.
"Harvey Specter's office."
Oliver smiled and it reached his voice. He had always liked Harvey's secretary. "Hello, Donna."
A sigh sounded on the other end of the line and Charlie slumped down into her seat, resting her head against her first.
"What did she do now?"