Aurora, Ontario. Six months later.
Mike sat at one end of the long mahogany table in the center of the St. Edwards School staff-room, adjacent to the headmaster's office. He had arranged through the school's secretary to have Phillip excused from class and sent to the staff room. The door opened and Phillip entered. Sloppily dressed in a navy blue blazer, white shirt, blue and yellow school tie, and gray flannel trousers, he shuffled to the far end of the table, then slumped in a chair, his face contorted to express his annoyance. He said nothing.
"I bet you're wondering why I'm here," Mike said, leaning forward and glaring at his adopted son.
Phillip looked away and slumped further in his chair. "I know why you're here," he muttered, as if bored. "The secretary told me. It's because my marks aren't very good."
"That's only one of the reasons. I want to know why you're misbehaving. Is it because you're unhappy here?"
Phillip reached for the heavy cut-glass ashtray in front of him and began to twirl it on the surface of the table with his index finger. He said nothing, avoided eye contact.
Mike waited patiently for an answer, then stood. "I guess you're too important for this school. I'm going to make arrangements to have you removed. Then you can decide what you're going to do with the rest of your life."
"I'll try to do better," Phillip said, his voice barely audible.
"That's not good enough!" Mike shouted. "You will do better and there will be no more meetings like this! Is that understood?"
Phillip nodded in silence.
"Dammit, Phillip! Give me more than a casual nod. Convince me you're serious. I'm at the end of my rope with you, son. If I don't see positive results, and soon, I'm going to pull you out of this school so fast it'll make your head spin."
Phillip sat erect and stared directly at Mike, his eyes glazed with contempt. "Okay, I promise I'll work harder."