“Sasha, get down here right now,” shouted my Father.
Groaning, I slipped off my bed and placed my Mac on my desk. Running a hand through my unruly hair, I headed down our spiraling staircase. I’m sure the crystals lining the banister cost more than a year’s worth allowance for me. Sauntering down the hall, I waved at our butler, Joseph, before heading for Dad’s home office.
Inside, he sat at his desk with Mother hovering behind him. I smiled at them, but stopped abruptly when the smile was not returned. This meant something was up; either Dad had lost a major contract, or I was in a lot of trouble.
I’m pretty sure it was the latter.
“Heya, Dad! What’s going on?” I asked.
He frowned at me, waving a piece of paper in the air. “Your Principal called us this morning. Apparently, you’ve been failing a majority of your classes. He said you got in a fight with someone yesterday as well? Sasha, what’s going on?”
Staring down at my blue polished toe-nails, I wracked my brain for an excuse. Not only did I come up with nothing, I couldn’t even defend myself. The girl had called me a bitch and I may have shoved her a bit too hard. It’s not as if I wanted to do that. But c’mon, who likes being called a bitch? Staring at my feet in silence, I waited for my punishment to be given.
“Sasha? Answer me!” shouted my Father.
I cringed away from his harsh tone and stared up into his furious, brown eyes. “I’m sorry! I don’t have an explanation, Daddy . . . Sir. She was being rude and I thought it’d be considered self defense. I’m sorry! You can take away my iPhone or whatever you want, just don’t ground me. I have a shopping trip planned this Saturday!”
Mother and Father stared at me in disbelief. They’d never been one for much rules and regulations but they always knew when they needed to start showing some authority. Biting my perfectly glossed lip, I noticed how Dad’s eyes had strayed to his computer and back to me.
“Oh, don’t worry Sasha. We’re not grounding you; that’s not the form of punishment we’ve both agreed on. We’ve found something better. Instead of grounding you and letting you become out of control again we’ve decided to switch you to another school.”
Staring at Father, I waited for him to burst out laughing and say ‘gotcha!’ But that moment never came, this made my heartbeat accelerate. Mother, who sensed my state of shock, hurried forward and gathered me into a hug. I stood there - completely frozen - as Mother embraced me tightly.
I soon found my voice, “What do you mean I’m switching schools?”
“Exactly what I said. I’ve realized living in Manhattan has caused you to . . . get accustomed to receiving what you want in life. That’s not how a fifteen year old should grow up. Therefore, your Mother and I have made some decisions. Don’t think it’s going to be easy on our family, because it won’t be. But it’s for the best,” he explained.
Pushing Mother off me, I marched forward until I was right in front of him. He jerked away from me, afraid I was going to do something as drastic as slap him. That wasn’t possible; I’d never slap my Father. Unless I wanted to go broke or something.
“What are you trying to say? Spit it out, Dad.”
“You’re going to move to a new school. It’s in Brooklyn Heights, so it won’t be like you’re moving to another state. Your Mother’s cousin lives down there with her two children. You remember Keisha and Cole, right?”
