No Time Like Now (Lesbian)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

A couple days later, I find myself sitting outside the principal's office. It was likely about the incident with Josh, but I still racked my brain for any school rules I might have broken. Other than taking a lost ten-dollar bill that was chilling under my chair in first period, there's not much.

I struggle with my math homework that's due today when Mrs. Charles opens the door and pops her head out. "Niamh, please, come in," the middle-aged woman invites. Like always, she's dressed like a sophisticated businesswoman. Tight bun included.

"So," she starts when I take a seat. It's much comfier than the one in Mr. Timmons' office. She takes her own seat behind the huge, antique desk. "I've heard about a little incident you had with a Joshua Miller this week."

She stops talking. Guess it's my cue to talk.

"Um, yes," I confirm.

Tsking, she writes on her legal notepad. "Would you mind telling me what happened?" It's not as much of a question than a polite demand.

I start from the beginning. She asks clarifying questions throughout my rehearsed monologue. She tsks again when I repeat what I said to Josh word by word, cussing included. (Hey, she asked.)

Once every rock was turned, and every note taken, the principal places the notepad to the side of the desk. Like every adult I've seen in movies, when they're gonna get serious, she's got her hands clasped. Her posture leans over the desk. I'm pretty sure we're at the 'why do you think?" section of the visit.

"Why do you assume Joshua was cheating?"

Spot on.

"Can I take out my phone?" I ask.

Her eyes narrow. She doesn't hate phones, but she considers it a sign of disrespect when a student has it out in her presence. "Why?"

"It has evidence?" They're not the best, but they're still in my phone.

After considering it, Mrs. Charles gives me the go-ahead. I unlock my phone and go through the audio files and screenshots. It's a good thing I got bored last night and organized the collection. I still have recordings of Ikra singing her favorite songs I thought I deleted. Without the proper labels, Mrs. Charles would have to endure a shaky chorus of "We Don't Sleep at Night".

I mean, Ikra did a good job covering it. I would have been proud showing it off.

Moving on.

My fingers push the phone across the surface to the principal. Out of nowhere, nerves snag on my voice. "I have them across two different, um, apps. The screenshots are from his Twitter page, and as you can see --"

I point at various tweets, highlighting my suspicions, before switching to the recording app. "Some of the audio's kinda shaky, but I witnessed him talking to a junior about... swiping Shadler's USB drive?"

I don't know why I ended it like a question. I was doing good until then.

Not caring about my awkward presentation, Mrs. Charles looks at the screenshots. Then she listens to the audio files. Her stern, cold facial expression has me on the edge of my seat. It's as if I was the one in trouble.

The last file plays to its end. She stares down at my phone, not saying a single word. Both her stillness and the dead silence don't help my nerves.

Suddenly, Mrs. Charles comes to life. Not gonna lie, the sudden movement scared the shit out of me. My heart beats fast in response to being startled.

"Thank you, Niamh. This helps with the investigation I'll launch shortly," she says quickly. "I will need all of this" --her open hand gestures over my phone in a circle-- "sent to my email. Preferably today."