Four-Quinn

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The lady in the office looked kind. I think I'll call her: the office lady. The foster lady (as I decided to call her) was talking with her about me. "So her not speaking won't affect anything right?" the foster lady asked.

"Yes ma'am," the office lady assured. "We will need you to speak with the principal for a moment though."

"Can Quinn come with me?" The foster lady asked.

"We'd prefer she didn't," the office lady said.

"Okay, she'll be alright here though, right?" The foster lady asked.

"Yes, she will be okay here," the office lady smiled at me.

"Quinn, baby, I'll be right back okay?" The foster lady said gently. I nodded and went back to reading. The foster lady went into a small room to talk with an old man.

"Do you want a piece?" The office lady asked. She was holding a piece of candy in her hand. I shook my head no and went back to reading.

The lady looked sad, but she never said anything.

After a few minutes a boy came in. He looked nice and didn't seem very troublesome. There was an angry teacher with him. The teacher looked like an old tomato. "Sit down!" He yelled at the boy.

The boy sat down next to me. There were only two chairs in the office, so we had no choice.

I risked a glance over at the boy next to me, then quickly turned away. He was staring right at me. "Hey," the boy whispered, "what'cha in for?" I shrugged. "Come on, tell me," the boy urged. "I'm not goin' to tell." I shrugged again.

"What seems to be the matter?" The office lady asked.

"This little hooligan cursed in my class!" The teacher yelled. This teacher was scary, I hoped I didn't have him.

"What did he say?" The office lady asked.

"The c-word!" The teacher yelled.

"Crap?" The office lady asked.

The teacher gasped. "Yes, that is the one, you ought to be fired for saying that!"

"Listen," the lady sighed. "Crap is not a curse word, I'm going to let him off the hook."

"This is outrageous!" The teacher yelled. "You obviously are not a qualified secretary!"

"And you are obviously not a qualified teacher!" The lady snapped. "Look at the poor boy, his wrist has a large red mark on it! You did that, didn't you!"

"Yes, with a ruler, he needed punishment for cursing," the man said. My eyes grew wide as I turned to the boys wrists.

"It's okay," the boy whispered. "It didn't hurt, he's not strong at all." The boy smiled down at me, but I still looked at the mark. This boy was my age, what if I ended up having this teacher too?

I reached down and grabbed my notepad. "How old are you?" I wrote.

"Twelve," the boy said.

"What grade?"

"Sixth."

"What does he teach?"

"Advanced English, why?"

"Were in the same grade. The office lady told the foster lady that I was going to be put in advanced english. I don't want that man to be my teacher though."

"It'll be alright," the boy smiled. "Listen to their conversation." I nodded and looked back over at them.

"What were you thinking hitting a child!" The office lady yelled.

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