A heavy sigh escaped my lips. I glanced at the wire framed analogue clock mounted to the wall over the far window. The hands said nine-thirty but I felt like I’d been there so much longer. My backside was beginning to go numb from the molded plastic seat. The four rivets that fixed it to the metal frame were polished to a shine from years of use. The orange plastic itself had developed a layer of white, telling me it had probably been here long before I’d even considered high school.
I adjusted, trying to get some feeling back into my legs. The wait at both Alexis and June’s schools wasn’t this bad. In and out, it had taken maybe twenty minutes each. But not here. This place felt like a prison, minus the barred windows and doors. Though a part of me wouldn’t be surprised if they’d existed at some point in time.
I knew it was impossible, the clock being on the other side of the room, but I felt like the seconds hand was drumming away in my head with each tick. It somehow blocked out the sound of shoes running down the hall outside. I could only guess the bell I’d heard moments earlier was an indicator for class change. I was fairly confident in that assessment. Finally, I saw the door to the principal’s office open and my mom stepped into view. She signaled me in with a reassuring smile, though I couldn’t help but feel like I was being baited into a trap.
Pulling myself from the uncomfortable seat, I made my way past the secretary’s desk, hidden by a chest high bar that ran from the entrance to a few feet from the door that was to be my doom. Stepping past mom, I entered into a room that I could only describe as the warden’s domain. The floor was carpeted in a dull blue with dark gray speckles. It wasn’t even the good carpet like you’d enjoy wiggling your toes in right after removing your shoes. The was thin and stiff, like a layer of bristles that had been glued directly to the concrete beneath. The center of the room was filled by a plain, but overly large wooden desk that demanded attention. And behind that was an old woman who looked as if she should have retired years ago.
The blinds on the dual windows behind her were angled, revealing the morning light like a halo of blinding authority around her that was certain to make anyone feel uneasy. Bits of dust and lint could be seen floating in the air, though I had trouble following them once they passed out of the light. A tall wooden bookshelf rested against the wall to my left, and a fake tree sat in the corner to my right.
Mom gestured to the seat beside her, which would unfortunately place me in direct sight of the ancient custodian who would be my jailer. Reluctantly, I sat down.
“Good morning, Mister Hart. And welcome. I’m Doctor Carter, Principal of this school. Your mother and I have been discussing your history at your previous school.” Principal Carter flipped through the pages of a file that I could only guess was my student records. “Fighting, disorderly conduct, punching a teacher?”
She stared into my soul, drawing me into those deep, glazed, hazel eyes. I could feel the judgment pouring from her. “I assure you, Mister Hart, you’re not the first troubled teen to walk through these doors. I only hope you’ll consider making this an irregular occurrence. Though I would add, my door is open if you find yourself in need of assistance. But I would recommend you follow the proper protocols before barging in unannounced. We have an excellent guidance counselor that is more than equipped to handle most situations before my attention is required.” Closing the file, she laid it on her already paper cluttered desk and pressed her fingers together as if to say she was going to make me an offer I couldn’t refuse.
The pause was long, giving me ample opportunity to speak, though I knew better. It was a trap that I wouldn’t willingly allow myself to fall into. Instead, I sat quietly in the cloth and foam covered chair. If nothing else, it was a nice reprieve from the back buster I’d had outside. I noticed the briefest smirk come to her lips, disappearing almost as quickly. This woman was going to be difficult to manipulate if need arose.
“After much discussion, I’ve agreed to accept your enrollment here. Though I warn you, Mister Hart, I will not tolerate any of the infractions that have already littered your records. This is a place of learning. You don’t have to like it here, though I expect you to make an effort. Attend class, do your work, and avoid confrontation with other students. If you can manage that, I have no doubt you’ll graduate on time and go on to lead a fruitful and fulfilling life.”
There it was, the bargain that was supposed to hook me. I couldn’t help but smile, which I knew wasn’t going to help my case. If anything, it was likely to result in a closer watch. I couldn’t help but find it funny. My record was a joke. I’d attended what was commonly referred to as “a hick school”. You had different casts of students. And in such schools, if you weren’t a jock or a cheerleader, you were typically considered bottom of the barrel. Moreover, in such schools if you roughed up say, the star football player, you pretty much became public enemy number one. My files reflected such a scenario, or more accurately, they reflected a series of such scenarios. I wasn’t going to take shit from anyone. I don’t care who they are. And that teacher I hit. That was after he threatened to break my legs and slammed me into a locker because his star quarterback had sprained his wrist when he punched me.
“Sure, Doctor Carter. I’ll do my best.”