Portrait of the Con Artist as a Young Man

By TheBucketWoman

Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi, its characters or anything else I reference herein. No infringement is intended. And apologies to James Joyce.

***

Nobody in their right mind would believe this...this kid in her office, but Edna Dunwoodie, head of the drama department at Smithdale University, smiled and went along as though she believed that he was the Santos girl's agent even though he couldn't be more than nineteen. Twenty at the most.

If she were a betting woman, she'd say that he was Miss Santos's boyfriend.

She would have called security straightaway to escort him out of her office, but something about this boy made her curious, and, truth be told, brought out her more mischievous instincts.

She really should have let him off the hook, as it were, after the tango, but he showed no sign of giving up. Plus, he was a handsome kid and he could dance. That in itself was a rarity and not to be passed up. Nobody really tangoed anymore. She wanted to ask who had taught him, but knew she probably wouldn't get much of an answer.

But really, allowing the foot massage was inexcusable. She should be ashamed of herself.

The boy let things go on for as long as he could stand it and then tried to get back to business.

"So," he said. "As much as I've enjoyed this, Ms. Dunwoodie..."

"Edna," she reminded him.

"Edna," he said. "I really must get back to my client and break some, well, disappointing news to her."

"I don't know that we absolutely must disappoint her," Edna said.

The boy positively lit up. All of his self-possession went by the wayside and he became a kid who couldn't believe his luck. Part of her wanted to take a picture of that look to show some of her students how it was done.

"If you can answer me something," she added.

"Hmm?" he asked.

"Are you really Miss Santos's agent Mr. Hogart?" Sometimes it was best to start with the obvious.

"Why of course, ma'am, who else would I be?" Alas, the wall went up again. He almost pulled it off, but his voice was just a touch too measured, trying to avoid a tell-tale squeak.

"Her boyfriend, perhaps?"she asked. "You're no more than nineteen if you're a day."

Again, very little loss of composure, just a slight clouding over of the eyes.

"I get that all the time," he said as he flashed some perfect teeth at her. "It's flattering, I admit, but—"

He noticed her smiling at him and threw up his hands, finally.

"Boyfriend?" she asked again.

"Fiancee," he said. "Ex. Okay, so listen. It's my fault that her audition went the way it did. I gave her the wrong DVD and then, when I came looking for her to give her the right one, it was too late."

"Now that I do believe," she said. "I must admire your commitment, though. You've made a valiant effort."

"I tried," he said, partly to himself. "So...I'll just leave so you can save campus security some trouble."

"Tell your client," she said. "That her new appointment is at ten a.m. Tomorrow."

There was a delayed reaction. He opened his mouth and nothing came out, but then...

"T-thank you," he said. "You won't regret it."

"I should hope not," she said. "Part of me wants to ask if you've ever considered Smithdale Drama."

"Can't say that I have," he said. It was a shame. He was a natural. She just hoped he used his powers for good.

"Where do you go to school, Mr. Hogart?"

"I don't," he said.

"So then, what do you do?"

"I'm a mechanic," he said, the corners of his mouth quirking upward.

"And how old are you?"

"Twenty," he said.

"Well," she said. "If your automotive skill is as keen as your talent for bullshit..."

She just loved the look of shock that came over people his age whenever she said "bullshit."

"...then you will be very successful indeed," she finished. "You truly are an artist."

"I've heard that before," he said.

"I'm sure you have," she said. "Now be off with you!"

She made a mental note to see if she couldn't help get him out of the doghouse. Miss Santos was not unlucky to have him if he was so willing to go through all of this for her. Hopefully, she'd realize that on her own, but Edna thought that a well-placed comment about her agent wouldn't hurt. She'd be dining out on this story for a while. It was the least she could do.