The Sociopath Society

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

How do you cheat at a game when you don’t know what you’re playing?

“Cheating is a very serious accusation, Miss Donovan,” Mr Hunter looked even sterner than normal as his gaze moved over the three in his office. Sally fidgeted slightly, tugging at her dark curly hair. Anderson’s mouth was twisted into a permanent smirk. A sneer towards Sherlock. The accused himself was cold, calm and collected. Meeting Mr Hunter’s gaze without flinching. “Do you wish to tell me what evidence you have for Mr Holmes cheating?”

“I... I don’t really have much,” Sally stammered. “Anderson said he saw writing on Sherlock’s arms. He had long sleeves during the prelims even thought it was a hot day. He never seemed to study and often didn’t turn up to class.” Mr Hunter nodded with narrowed eyes. Sherlock could have cursed at Sally. He always wore a long sleeved shirt for reasons other than cheating. He didn’t study or turn up to class because both were boring and he already knew everything. He didn’t know how Anderson had seen writing on his arms since there had never been any. And where had they gotten this idea that he was cheating from? JM. It had to be. He had to have something to do with it. There was no other possibility. He was manipulating their hate and jealousy towards Sherlock.

“Mr Anderson, can you expand?” Mr Hunter had now turned his attention to the smirking boy.

“I went into the boy’s toilets after our biology prelim to see him trying to scrub writing off his arms,” Anderson appeared to lie very easily. Sherlock found the whole thing rather stupid. If he was going to try and scrub off writing on his arms he wouldn’t do it in the bathrooms were he could quite easily be seen by anyone who walked in.

“Thank you Mr Anderson, Miss Donovan. You may go no.” Mr Hunter clasped his hands together and watched Sherlock carefully, waiting for the other two to leave. “Now, I’m in a bit of predicament here, Mr Holmes. Cheating? Now that is a step far. Is there anything you would like to say?”

“I did not cheat,” Sherlock began icily. “I have no need to. It would be the highly illogical route, also. Washing away words written on arms in a highly public area? That would be incredibly stupid.”

“There are two eye witnesses.”

“Technically, one. Wearing long sleeves does not count. And John would vouch for me.”

“I’m sure he would, considering your relationship.” Sherlock blushed as Mr Hunter continued. “Did you not think we would notice? Now, I have a rather hard decision to make. You were in here only one week ago and I warned you not to break a single other rule. There is no exact evidence, but who do I trust? Who would you trust, Mr Holmes?” Sherlock arched an eyebrow.

“Donovan and Anderson,” Sherlock replied eventually. Look at the fact. He had a record for troublemaking and rule breaking. They did not.

“Exactly,” Mr Hunter nodded, sighing. Was he... stressed? “We were you last chance, Sherlock.” What, were they on first name basis now? “And you messed up. I’m sorry, Sherlock, I’m going to have to call your parents.” Sherlock paled. Trying not to allow dread to claw up his belly. Ignoring the sickness suddenly roiling in the pit of his stomach. His father was going to kill him. Actually, he was already going to kill him due to Christmas night. Sherlock running away and all. Now he was going to die twice.

But he couldn’t stop it now. Mr Hunter had already walked out of the door to make the call. Sherlock faintly heard the words “hello, Mr Holmes” but nothing more. Now he was alone. With all his thoughts. He wished John was here. John would know how to make him feel better. He always did.

Sherlock would miss John. If he was expelled. Sure they were both about to part ways anyway, going to different universities and all. But Sherlock wasn’t sure that he would survive going home. No, his father would kill him. And mummy and Mycroft would just watch on.

At least he’d get to say goodbye to John. If John wanted to see him again. Didn’t think he was a cheat. Sherlock felt doubt spark in his mind. About how true the friendship between them was.

“He would like to speak to you.” Sherlock’s eyes widened as Mr Hunter re-entered, holding out a phone. Sherlock took it, composing himself before speaking.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Sherlock,” came a lazy drawl.

“Mycroft!” Sherlock tried not to let relief enter his voice when he realised that it was Mycroft he was speaking to.

“Never though you would be so pleased to hear me, dear brother.”

“I thought you were Father.”

“I know. Don’t worry; you don’t have to see him again. Not after last time. Mummy and I both think it is best if you don’t return to the house.”

Sherlock could have cried with relief. But he didn’t. That would be letting himself give into emotions he shouldn’t even feel. “Where will I be staying, then? And who will pick me up?”

“Where you stay is up to you depending on what university you go to.”

“What do you mean?” Sherlock tried to ignore the slight confusion he felt. “I’m going to be expelled.” There was laughter at the other end of the line.

“You are not. I told that incompetent Headmaster that you are many things but one of them is not a cheat. You are just... Intelligent.”

“Good. So I will be continuing in this wretched place?” He couldn’t bring himself to thank his brother.

“Indeed you will be.”

“Okay. Is that all?”

“No. What did you do, Sherlock?”

“I don’t understand. I thought you didn’t think I was a cheat, which I most certainly am not.” Sherlock frowned slightly.

“Who did you annoy may be a better way to phrase it.”

“I think I irritated Donovan and Anderson on New Year’s Eve.”

“That is not enough to warrant an attempt to ruin someone’s prospects for the future.” What brilliant deduction skills Mycroft had. Because that wasn’t at all obvious.

“I think this is linked into the case. The murder, the thieveries and JM. Oh, do you have any leads on him?”

“No, unfortunately.”

“Shame. First name is James. James M. Me being accused as a cheat has something to do with it.”

“Nothing I say will discourage you from pursing this further, will it?”

“Is that concern, Mycroft?” Sherlock laughed lightly. “The Government making you sentimental? It does not suit you. And no, I am seeing this through to the end. Goodbye, Mycroft.”

“Goodbye, Sherlock. Be careful.”