Freshman Just Wanted Dinner — Until Three Bullies Made a Mistake That Cost Them Everything
Chapter 19
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"A regular came in Saturday. Showed me on his phone." Dot set the coffee cup down. "I'm sorry that happened.""It's all right.""It's not," Dot said. "But I appreciate you saying so."Claire wrapped her hands around the coffee cup. "Has Tyler Weston been in here since Friday?" she asked."No.""Has anyone else come in? Anyone who seemed like they were looking around or asking about me?"Dot looked at her carefully. "No. Should I be expecting that?"Claire told her about the complaint—not everything, just enough. She told her that Tyler had filed something official against her and that the school was holding a preliminary hearing on Wednesday.Dot was quiet for a moment. "That boy filed a complaint against you," Dot said."Yes.""After what he did to your notebook?""Yes."Dot set her hands on the edge of the table. She looked at Claire the way she had looked at her Friday night—that reading expression, like she was going through something carefully before she said it."Claire," she said. It was the first time Dot had used her name: not hon, not sweetheart—her name. "I need to ask you something," Dot said. "And I need you to understand that I am asking it because I have been in this diner for thirty-five years, and some things in my life I have waited too long to say.""Okay," Claire said."Do you know why your grandmother funded the scholarship at Hartwell?"Claire looked at her. The world went very still. "What did you say?" Claire said."Your grandmother," Dot said. "Eleanor Matthews. Do you know why she chose Hartwell specifically?"Claire felt something shift inside her chest: something that had been sitting at a slight angle for a while suddenly aligned. "She knew Hartwell," Claire said."She knew it very well," Dot said. "She turned down a placement there in 1961 when she was eighteen years old. She qualified for an academic program, but the family couldn't cover the cost. The scholarship didn't... they offered her a partial award and said the rest was her responsibility. Her family didn't have it. So, she didn't go."Claire was very still. "She never told my mother that," Claire said."She never told most people," Dot said. "Eleanor wasn't someone who spent a lot of time on things she couldn't change. She just decided that if she ever had the resources, she would make it so that the next person in her position didn't have to make that choice."Claire felt something in her eyes. She blinked. "How do you know this?" she said.Dot looked at the wall, at the framed letter. "She wrote to me," Dot said. "Well, she wrote to the diner. She was looking for anyone who had known the previous owner. She had come in here in the summer of 1961 after she found out she couldn't go to Hartwell. She had a piece of pie and she cried a little, and the man who owned the diner then, a man named Frank Miller, sat down across from her and talked with her for an hour."