Scott George could have stayed locked up in his own
imagination for a thousand years and he would’ve been happy. Even in a
fictional dream, holding Adrienne Simpson in his arms was a warm experience
that made him tingle all over his body. But eventually the real world caught up
to him and it was time once again to go to Perkins High School
But instead of catching the school bus and surrounding
himself with laughing troglodytes, Scott woke up just before dawn and walked
the whole way in solitude. Instead of starving his already pencil-thin body
even further, he grabbed two unheated Pop Tarts and nibbled on them gently like
a hamster. And instead of looking like a homeless Power Ranger with a rat’s
nest for hair, he combed his hair backwards and wore blue jeans and combat
boots with his obligatory black shirt.
He toed the line between love and war with his new dress
code and eating habits. If he wanted to make his dream a reality, he had to
fight for what he wanted. “Heart Shaped Box” by Nirvana wasn’t exactly war
music, but the MP3 soundtrack powered Scott through his early morning walk to
school. Not one shitty human being bumped his shoulders or cursed him out the
whole way. Either that was a good sign or the calm before the storm.
Scott had taken his last hamster bite of breakfast by the
time the sun bloomed in the sky and he arrived at school. To his surprise, not
one student locked eyes with him or even gave off a hint of a mocking smile.
Still, he had a knot in his stomach that wouldn’t stop pounding. He had to
swallow hard to keep his Pop Tarts in his stomach, but he finally trudged up the
stone stairs and past the front door. So far, so good. A sigh of relief escaped
his frosting-covered lips.
“Mr. George. Can I have a word with you in my office,” said
Principal Williams, who stood at the entrance with her arms folded, probably
expecting Scott this whole time.
“Uh…,” stammered Scott as he looked like a deer in the
headlights. “Can it wait until after history class?”
“Are you really that eager to put up with Mr. Simpson for
another day? You didn’t seem to mind bailing out on him yesterday when you
crept out of detention. What makes you so happy to see him this time around?”
Lingering students let out their “ooo’s” and Miss Williams barked at them to
shut up and keep walking. She then motioned for Scott to join her in her office
before shutting the door behind her and instructing him to have a seat.
Scott’s face was aimed low at his boot laces, studying the
various patterns as some kind of excuse to avoid eye contact with yet another
authority figure. “Listen, Miss Williams, if you’re going to punish me, do it
already and spare me the lecture. I know what I did was wrong and the sooner I
get this crap over with, the better.”
Miss Williams lifted Scott’s head with a singular finger
underneath his chin and said, “There’s more to it than that, my friend.
Skipping detention is a serious offense on its own, but I’m more interested in
the whys than the whats. I know about your lack of love with Mr. Simpson. I
know this because pretty much every student he has says the same thing about
him: that he’s senselessly cruel and doesn’t care one way or another about
their fates.”
As soon as the Principal removed her finger from Scott’s
chin, he asked, “If he’s really that much of a pain in the ass, why don’t you
just fire him already? I don’t think there’s a single person in this building
who would miss his sorry ass.”
“Duly noted, Mr. George,” said Miss Williams as she folded
her hands across her chest. “Trust me, I’d love nothing more than to tell him
not to let the door hit him on the ass on his way out. But it’s not that easy.
It never has been. Teachers and other authority figures can’t just get fired
over disagreements with the students. In other words, you don’t have to be a
friendly person in order to qualify for the job. It’s screwed up, but that’s
the way things go sometimes.”
A frustrated Scott slapped his own thighs and said, “It’s
beyond screwed up, Miss Williams. School is supposed to be a place where kids
can grow and learn things. What are they supposed to learn from having a bad
teacher? That’s not a rhetorical question. I’d actually like to know the answer
to that. Sure, there are bosses out there who never get their comeuppance, but
that’s the very thing we should be avoiding when we have the chance.”
“I’m sorry, Scott. It’s out of my hands. What happens to you
from this point on is up to Mr. Simpson since he’s the one who assigned you to
detention in the first place. If you stiff him again, I’ll have no choice but
to expel you.”
Scott folded his arms and said, “That’s right, Miss Williams.
Punish the victim. Punish the guy who’s been laughed at for his whole high
school career. Punish the guy who has few opportunities to stand up for
himself. Punish the guy who actually knows what justice is supposed to mean. I
knew it. I have no fucking allies in this school. Nobody really does. That’s
why they’re acting out the way they do.”
“There’s no joy in this for me, Scott,” said Miss Williams
as she leaned forward in her chair. “Even with students who deserve punishment
the most, there’s no happiness in dishing it out to them. I also know what
justice is, but I’m also wise enough to know that justice doesn’t always get
served. Whatever Mr. Simpson has planned for you as punishment for ditching him
yesterday, you’d better follow through with it.”
“Got it,” said Scott while sarcastically nodding his head.
“Any other dreams of mine you want to crush while you have me here?”
“No, not particularly. But in order to make one of them come
true, you have to endure a little bit of the suck for just a few minutes.” When
Scott formed a confused look on his face, the Principal explained, “I don’t
know if you’re aware of this or not, but there’s a video of you being
circulated on You Tube. It has thousands of hits already and the comments are
cringe-worthy at best.”
Reality smashed Scott in the stomach with a sack of bricks.
He bent over in his seat and fought like hell to suppress vomit. Principal
Williams rushed to get a trash bucket underneath his face, but after moments of
intense breathing and body pulsations, it turned out Scott didn’t need it. He
leaned back in his chair with pinprick feelings in his face and chest. He
swallowed more saliva and it tasted like warm, bitter tea. Tears barbecued his
stinging eyes as he struggled even harder to keep himself together.
“You already know about it, don’t you, Scott,” said
Principal Williams with a hand on her student’s shoulder. The two of them
hugged it out while Scott’s fiery tears bathed the Principal’s suit jacket.
“You don’t have to tell us any more about it. We know who filmed that video.”
Scott broke the embrace and shouted, “So what?! You said
yourself justice doesn’t always get served! So what the fuck are you going to
do to that bitch-ass Alan Young?! Does he get to slip through the cracks or do
only teachers get preferential treatment?!”
“If you’d stop bawling for a moment and see for yourself,
you’d have the answer!” Miss Williams retorted while pointing her finger
towards her office window.
Scott’s waterworks were cut short as confusion took over. Miss
Williams pointed again and again until he pulled himself together and humored
her this one time. His eyes widened as he watched two police officers talking
to Alan Young. He couldn’t tell what they were saying, but whatever it was, it
couldn’t have been friendly. The two cops spun Alan around and slammed him
against the wall while cuffing his thick wrists behind his back. Straggling
students screamed in horror at what they were witnessing. Even Alan himself
couldn’t help but shed a few tears as he was being hauled away.
“Invasion of privacy, cyber harassment, you name it, this
kid has done it all in that one video,” said Miss Williams. “If the other kids
can pay attention to a stupid video, then they’ll damn sure pay attention to
Alan’s arrest. He needed to be made an example of, Scott. Sooner or later, Mr.
Simpson will get his. I can’t tell you when or how, but the domino effect is
already in place.”
For the first time in what seemed like ages, Scott’s tearful
smile seemed genuine instead of looking like a psychotic killer. He spun around
and embraced Principal Williams once more while thanking her over and over
again in a high pitched squeal. Feeling awkward, the authority figure returned
the hug ever so slowly and noncommittally. “You’re welcome, Scott,” she said.
“Please let go of me and get back to your classes. I believe second period is
about to begin anytime soon.”
No comments:
Post a Comment