America 1982-Chapter 57 - 14: Welcome Everyone

"When doing business, you have to adopt a business-like attitude, Principal Mendes. I don’t care how much the professors from Princeton want to charge for their attendance, but together with the donation to the school, I can only offer twenty percent. I’m truly grateful for the school’s modest support for our student entrepreneurship, but that’s all the material thanks I can offer. Yes, twenty percent." Tommy Hawk sat in the principal’s office, looking earnestly at Mr. Mendes behind the desk.

Mendes took off his glasses, rose slowly from behind his desk, walked over to the window to take in the view, then slowly drew the blinds before approaching Tommy Hawk. He retrieved a pack of Marlboro cigarettes from his suit pocket, placed one in his mouth, and fumbled for a lighter, "Twenty percent, eh? Grandet could learn a thing or two about doing business from you. Got a light, kid?"

Tommy Hawk produced a lighter to help the principal ignite his cigarette, "Just to be clear, Mr. Mendes, I found the lighter on my way here and was about to give it to a teacher."

"I thank you on behalf of the convenience store owner for your integrity, kid." Mr. Mendes took a drag from his cigarette before returning to his desk and sitting back down.

"Forty percent, or I will use the excuse that you took the school’s sports equipment without proper application to stop the club’s activities. I know it was Dennis’ doing, but that’s not what’s important, is it? The administration has counted, nearly two hundred high school students have inquired about the payment method, and the number is still increasing. A one-week summer camp at Cambridge in England is only priced at 1500 bucks! And you’re offering them a week-long stay in some rural part of the Caribbean Sea without even a TV station for 999 bucks—a steep price."

Fidgeting with the lighter, Tommy Hawk remarked, "You used to stand so tall in my eyes, Mr. Mendes. You surprise me. I think it’s best not to destroy that grand image I have of you."

Mendes spread his hands, "Because I don’t know if the professors from Princeton will want a share, and how much that share might be. If they want too much, you can’t expect the school to cover it. This is a public high school, not some wealthy private school. The school supports students in doing business within their means to gain social and business experience, but does not wish to become the loser. And if you donate forty percent, it could cheer me up enough to forget about some of the bad things those kids did."

"Thirty-five percent," Tommy Hawk said.

Mendes nodded without refusal, "If it’s thirty-five percent, I’ll replace Miss Farrell with Mr. McDyess, a guidance teacher whose image, gender, character, and everything else is completely opposite to that of Miss Farrell. Mr. McDyess is experienced, whereas Miss Farrell is just starting her job, and she..."

"You really know how to do business, Mr. Mendes. Forty percent, deal. No need for stone-faced Mr. McDyess to guide me. Have the school’s legal advisor draft the contract. The extra half-percent can be considered my fee for something pleasing to the eye," Tommy Hawk interrupted, making his point.

Mendes smiled satisfactorily, lifting his cigarette pack towards Tommy, "Of course, Tommy, the school will certainly provide comprehensive support. Good. Want one?"

"Sure," Tommy eyed his principal with suspicion, slowly getting up to reach for the cigarette pack in his hand.

Just before Tommy could grab it, Mendes withdrew his hand, "Sorry, I forgot that the last one I lit was my last. But I guess you have a pack of found cigarettes in your pocket, don’t you?"

"If you were to enter politics, I’d definitely vote for you, Mr. Mendes. There’s a difference between giving a student cigarettes and watching a student smoke on his own, isn’t there?"

"Considering you might have some grievances against me, I can’t be too careful. If I really gave you a cigarette and then you reported me, it would be more trouble than it’s worth." Mendes laughed cunningly, "So, how many sessions are you planning for this summer camp?"

"According to the current plan, four sessions, two weeks each, sixty people per session. We intend to stop once we recruit two hundred forty people because I think that country has had about enough of American high school students wreaking havoc," Tommy Hawk said dejectedly, settling back into his seat.

"Seize the opportunity, Tommy. This is the best moment for Lincoln High School and for you," Mr. Mendes encouraged Tommy, "By the way, why haven’t I seen Dennis and Pam these last few days?"

Tommy Hawk exhaled, "I was worried that the school might raise the price at the last minute, so I thought ahead to earn the money back. I had them go with Dennis’ mother, Mrs. Hebers, and my brother’s girlfriend Ashley to Saint Vincent where they opened a fast-food restaurant and a small supermarket that will only operate for two months, charging double the prices back in the United States."

...

"Kevin Nipfen! Shouldn’t you be off taking a full-ride scholarship to Princeton, Harvard, Colombia, places like that? How could you, too, end up here just like this loser?" Frank Grillo pushed two large suitcases his mom had helped him prepare, and on his back, he carried a travel bag that covered his entire back as he arrived at the previously determined gathering spot, the garden plaza at Lincoln High School, when he spotted a familiar figure who’d appeared countless times in his dreams, standing there and admiring the scenery.

Kevin Nipfen turned around, a hint of surprise in his eyes, but the tone wasn’t friendly towards this opponent he’d eliminated from the state league: "Back off, Frank, don’t make me end you again."

"I’ve heard your spine’s in trouble, you’ve been forced to retire by the coach, and you’re scrambling to switch sports just to get into college. Are you sure you can still end me?" Frank’s gaze and tone were full of mockery.

"Wanna try me?" Kevin stepped towards Frank as he heard the mockery.

Dropping his backpack, Frank met him head-on without any hint of fear: "Of course."

"Gentlemen, could you delay the fight for two minutes? I’d like to set up some betting and earn a bit of spending money. Of course, I’ll give you guys a cut," said David Schafer, who’d hurried over and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, walking by with a sincere expression. "I used to do this sort of thing back in Georgia; I have experience. But the fighters I dealt with were just some unskilled black guys, so they weren’t very famous."

Dressed all in black, Catherine Naun stood with her arms folded, looking contemptuously at the two about to clash: "I never thought that jocks with muscles for brains would attend this kind of summer camp. The pamphlet mentioned international strategy, future development, and such words. Are you athletes sure you can understand them?"

Both wrestlers turned and glared at the outspoken girl. Kevin said coldly, "I’d advise you to have your dentist on speed dial before you speak again, miss."

"Hi everyone, I’m Zoey Winters, it’s lovely to meet you all." The elegantly styled Zoey Winters strolled over, hand fluttering with a sweet and appropriate smile for everyone: "So you’re all here for the summer camp too? This feels great."

"Ladies, would you care to make a bet?" David Schafer asked the two girls: "Wrestling agent David Schafer at your service."

"That guy has a better chance of winning." Chris Ferguson tipped his cowboy hat, nodding in Kevin’s direction with a sure tone.

Frank looked at Chris with displeasure: "I could fix your eyes for you first! Kid!"

"Whooosh—" A playing card flew from Chris’s hand, slicing off a leaf several meters away in a flowerbed. He looked at Frank expressionless: "I could fix your eyes too, kid."

"Whoa, nice card tricks. Looks like everyone here has unique talents. I’m lagging far behind; it’s great to meet you all. I’m Stephen Binn, a low-key high school student who’s got nothing but cash," said the casually dressed Stephen, standing under a Paulownia tree with a sunny smile, clapping his hands.

"According to the normal summer camp routine, it’s about time for the bus driver to show up biting into a burger, telling us to get on board," said David Schafer, somewhat disappointed to see no further fighting: "So, where’s the driver?"

"That’s because I changed the procedure," said Tommy Hawk as he walked out of the school, accompanied by Ottelia, standing in front of the group. "Welcome to CSLS. I’m the committee chairman, Tommy Hawk. Good afternoon, new members of the CSLS committee."