Discovered

Chapter 13: A New Principal?

The next morning, I woke up from my slumber and glanced at the blank canvas that I recently bought at the store. My mouth was as dry as cotton, my eyes were covered in crusts, and textbooks stacked on top of a small desk, with completed work sticking out of its pages.

I stretched out my arms and hopped onto the wooden floor. I wore a black t-shirt and blue shorts. My dark brown hair was wild than an angry fire. Looking down at my small bed, I realized that I was sleeping in Grandma's old bedroom.

Other than the dust caked underneath the soles of my feet, neon blue paint slathered on the walls, a huge window sprayed sunlight into my eyes, revealing a small drawer and a huge suitcase that has all of my clothes.

I couldn't remember the last time I walked upstairs or took a shower. But since the sun is already up, there is no time to be thinking about it. As soon as I came downstairs, Uncle Seth was in the kitchen making pancakes and eggs.

He wore a grey t-shirt and black pants. His red hair was mottled, but his eyes remained attentive to the frying pan. As soon as he looked in my direction, he smiled. "Hello," he greeted. "Your grandmother left to do some errands around the house, so I'll have to drive you to Langston Hughes High."

Patting down my messy hair, I nodded at uncle then disappeared into the bathroom. Egg yellow invaded the walls, like aliens,  smooth brown tiles covered every inch of the floor, and the shower looked like it has been unused.

The fresh roll of toilet paper remained next to the toilet while the beaten up sink was at least a few inches away. I applied toothpaste  on my brush then scrubbed my teeth until the grime and blood got on my fingers.

Disgusted, I washed and dried my fingers off then rushed upstairs to get dressed. "Cleo!" Uncle Seth shouted. "Breakfast is ready!" I gritted my teeth as I pulled on my black polo shirt and khaki pants.

As much as I wanted to lace up my sneakers, I didn't want to miss out on breakfast so I decided to eat first then put my shoes on. While I head out into the dining room, Uncle Seth had already laid the heaping plates of food, forks, and cups on the table.

When I sat down, I cut the pieces of food with my fork then ate it. "Are you excited for your second case?" Uncle Seth asked with a smile on his face. "Yep," I answered. "Did you pack anything your taser, pepper spray-" Uncle Seth began.

"I have them," I interrupted. "Also, I did all of my homework and studied my subjects." He shrugged his shoulders in an unsurprised manner then asked if I had started thinking about my project.

"Yes," I answered. "I don't have a clear idea, but I am sure it will come to me." Even though I didn't start it yet, there were some ideas that might be good to do my assignment: I was thinking of painting a huge portrait of Langston Hughes or take a couple pictures of Harlem.

But like I had already said to my uncle, I didn't have a clear idea of what I am going to do. Just then, Uncle Seth glanced at the time then nearly dropped his fork.

"Time to go," he muttered, getting up from his seat and grabbing his car keys. Immediately, I hurried upstairs to lace my shoes and get my knapsack then rushed out of the house.

As soon as I saw Uncle Seth trailing at my heels, I got inside the red Volvo and sat behind the driver's seat. After Uncle Seth got in, he started the ignition and drove out of the driveway.

During a long drive to the school, I looked into the window and stared at the nice and not-so-nice buildings. I saw a man with a straw hat and plain clothes, smoking cigarettes and leaning against the gate.

Although his face remained healthy, I could still see his last years peeling off of his skin like a bandage. There was even one grey house where I saw two little kids in school uniform, tagging along with their distracting mother.

"Cleo," said a fading voice. "Cleo." I turned to look at Uncle Seth, whose face brighten at my attentiveness. The next thing I knew, the car slowed down at the yellow curb and parked next to the white Honda.

In front of the red Volvo, is a tall, bricked building with a manicured lawn, fancy glass doors, and children of all ages walking up the white doorsteps to go to their classes. This must be the high school, where I am going to be interviewing.

"Time's up," Uncle Seth said. "Good luck." I kissed him on the cheek, opened the door, and crawled out of the car. As the car departs, I clutched the strap of my bag then gestured forward.

It was a lot like my high school: jocks were flocking around the cheerleaders, nerds were playing with their Rubik Cubes, and eco-friendly activists were discussing their plans on how to convince the world that meat is murder.

Biting my lip, I hoisted my backpack up in my shoulder and joined in with the rest of the other kids. Orange paint washed over the canvas of the walls, there were over seventy black lockers leaning against them, light bounced against the blue tile floor, and wooden doors were on each side of the hallway.

While the kids were hovering over their lockers, a young woman in a tight black bun and a black dress hustled over to me. "Hello," she greeted. "You must be Mia, the young journalist that I have been hearing about."

I smiled even wider then shook her hand firmly. "I am Mrs. Jade, I am the new principal for Langston Hughes High." My eyes widened in reaction.  The school board  hired another principal?