I Can't Fly

Chapter 7

"Why do you think you are here, Miss Carly Ann Taylor?" Dang, he used my middle name. He must be really cracking down.    

Word got around, and during sixth hour, I got a note from the office to report to the principal's office after school. I crumpled it before anyone saw. When I arrived, Wyatt and Saturn were waiting to be called in as well. We didn't say anything before going in. The layer of unease was too thick. Anything we said would only make the situation worse, personally, and to others watching us. They'd think we were conspiring or something.

I responded, "I don't know, Mr. Parkinson."His face did not yet have the wrinkles and dark circles that characterized our old principals. He wore a long sleeve shirt and jeans. Administration often gave him a side eye for how he dressed, but I didn't mind. It brought him closer to a student's level of comfort. It fit his personality of negotiating with students instead of being a dictator. Little did he know that it made his rules look more like guidelines than immobile laws. He gave me a stern look, before leafing through some papers on his desk. However, I didn't fall for his game. I already read over the papers. If Mr. Parkinson wanted to accuse me of something by using information from a ninth grader's student lunch account, he can try.

"It says here that you were in a fight today. Is that true?"

"It is."

"What was the reason for this fight?"

I stared directly into his soul. "The other group accused me of sleeping with a soldier and that I caused the helicopter event to get attention." Hearing the words come out of my mouth, he physically scooched back in his chair. I sat unmoved in mine.

"Did you know these people?"

"Not before today." It's odd how with all of that paper, he isn't writing what I am saying down.

"And, did you try to talk to them before using violence? Did you use your words?" The mere sound of the kiddie phrase made me internally cringe.

"Would you have 'used your words'? Walked away? You saw how thick that wall got. There must have been chanting, tormenting, people spurring me on. Tell me, what words would you have used?"

He set his papers down and instead plucked a lined sheet of paper from his desk's filing cabinet. It was a tiny thing, definitely less intimidating to most that the original thick pack of paper. Still, it perked my interest. I recognized his scribbled handwriting. "It was distinguished that you punched Liam Yates. It caused some serious damage. His parents took him to the hospital. We are waiting for the results right now. His nose may be broken. Do you have anything to comment?" Huh. I guess that other girl had too much pride to confess that she was hit too. Liam, on the other hand. His injury would be harder to hide. Did no one mention Wyatt's shoving? I hope not. I would hate if people started accusing him of things he didn't do.

I didn't respond. Mr. Parkinson continued. "Mr. and Mrs. Yates are thinking about pressing charges again you and the school. Instead of suing the school or you, they will accept your expulsion. They seemed unsatisfied with anything less."

I kept a cool, unmoved attitude. "I have not had a violent history of fights. Would it look great if the school expelled the girl who just saved a soldier that was injured on school grounds?" Would saying this stuff be considered blackmail? Nah. "And, who was the one who asked for two teachers to be brought to the scene in the first place? If you ask Natalie, she will truthfully say that I was." I gave him another look. "How is that for using my words?"

He glared at me for my last comment but let it slide. "We already notified your mother. She had a lot to say. It seems like everything is sorting itself out. Well, if you don't have anything else to say, you can go. I will be talking to you soon to discuss the result of this matter." He tried to lighten up the situation by joking, "Don't leave town."