Skurdulka VS Bystander: A Queer Family Horror Story (Complete!)

Part 16: To The Office

 "Storm Vandersen, to Mr. Visser's office. Storm Vandersen, to Mr. Visser's office."

Storm's stomach turned to ice. Sitting in Mr. Richardson's English class with none of his friends nearby, there was nowhere to look, except at Mr. Richardson. The man's thick, dark eyebrows rose and drew together with a sympathetic look. As Storm stood up and paced between the desks, towards the front of the room, he felt every eye on him.

Richardson gestured him towards his desk as Storm started towards the door. The teacher leaned in, holding Storm's gaze and Storm leaned down a bit to hear his low voice.

"Protest has consequences. But you still did the right thing," Richardson whispered. "Just keep your cool. Don't give him a reason, y'know?" With a small smirk, Richardson winked. "You'll be okay. I'm proud of you."

That comment shouldn't have meant as much as it did. But, despite his pounding heart and knotted stomach, Storm couldn't help but smile.

Pacing down the hall towards Visser's office, Storm started to rehearse. He knew what Visser was going to say; he was pissed that pretty much everyone in a hundred mile radius—not to mention tens of thousands of others all over the world—knew what a homophobic asshole he was. He wanted the video taken down. And, sure, Storm was happy to do it—Chris had already uploaded the same video to their account anyway, and Visser couldn't do shit to Chris anymore. And four other people Storm didn't know had uploaded a copy of the video, too.

So, Visser would probably give Storm another detention or, at worst, an out-of-school suspension. But the only person that would care would be Ari, and Storm knew they wouldn't be upset once they knew the whole story. Besides, Storm wasn't sure Visser even had the right to do that—Storm hadn't technically done anything wrong. All he'd done was record what had really happened and posted it.

Standing in front of the closed door to the office, Storm took a deep breath. The other times he'd stood in front of this door, he knew he'd fucked up. Maybe the idiots he'd punched deserved it, maybe he'd cheated on a test that was just too fucking hard, maybe he'd mouthed off to a teacher who had disrespected him in the first place. He had his reasons. But, this time was different. This time he had more than his own reasons. This time, he was right.

Heart pounding, Storm opened the door.

The secretary was holding the black landline phone to her ear when Storm walked in. She met his eyes once, blinked, then looked back at the computer. She recognized him, but offered no other reaction, not that he expected one. He continued towards Visser's door. About to knock, he opened the door instead.

Visser looked up from the computer monitor on the side of his desk.

"What's up?" Storm greeted.

The thin man nodded towards one of the two chairs in front of his desk. "Sit."

Storm did. For a while, Visser just looked at his computer. Storm knew this trick. He wondered if Visser realized he used this tired tactic every time he called someone into his office.

Finally, Visser turned. "Turn out your pockets."

Storm leaned back, heart still pounding, and propped his ankle on his knee. "Why?"

"Because you decided to broadcast our last conversation, and I'd like to know this time before you put me on YouTube. Stand up and turn out your pockets."

Rolling his eyes, Storm stood, pulled out the pockets of his jeans, and dropped gum wrappers, lint, and two hair ties onto Visser's desk. He was glad he'd left his phone hidden in his binder and his vape pen in his backpack. He noticed a manila folder on one side of the desk, looking strangely new and strangely important on the otherwise clear desk.