Relying On Ben and Jerry (Waltham #1)

Chapter Twenty-Seven: He Am Number Three

“I don’t even know why I’m here,” I announced to the principal, frowning. “I had nothing to do with this.”

His eyebrows went up. “So you weren’t the one running around and pushing people down while screaming ‘Battle Force Five, go!’?”

“Sir, are you on medication?” I demanded cautiously, widening my eyes innocently.

His face turned an infuriated red, but the moment he opened his mouth to go apeshit on me, there was a sharp knock on his door, distracting him like a squirrel distracts a dog. He narrowed his eyes at me before he told whoever was on the other side to come on in, and he leaned back in his chair as the door opened. A familiar figure shuffled in, shirt muddied and a confused expression on his face.

“Um, sir?” Felton said. “There’s a sheep in the Biology room.”

“Pardon?” the principal replied.

“There’s a sheep,” Felton told him studiously slowly, pronouncing all of the words slowly. I sighed, shaking my head in disappointment as my brother phonetically announced, “And it’s inside of my Biology room. That’s a science class.”

“I know what Biology is,” the principal snapped, reaching up a hand to run a hand through his hair. “How the hell did a sheep get in there?”

“Well, you see, sir, the door was open,” Felton explained slowly, looking at the man like he was sad that he knew so little about life. The principal’s eye twitched and I nearly choked to death on laughter.

“Miss Mallory,” the principal said, icy calm. “I’m going to have to ask you to go back to class. I’ll call you back down when I am done dealing with this . . . small problem. Is that clear?”

I nodded and Felton jumped, looking at me with wide eyes. “Oh, hey Lee,” he greeted, blinking wildly. “I didn’t even realize that you were in here. What’d you do this time, eat chalk?”

“Felton,” I said calmly, “that was kindergarten.”

“What are you now?” he asked. “Twelve?”

“How are you passing your classes?” I demanded, incredulous.

“You two are going to have to work this out outside of school,” the principal told us before he shooed us out of his office, locking it behind him like there was something inside of it worth protecting. He shot us both a strange look before he shook his head at us and broke into a brisk walk, breezing right by the judgmental front desk lady and out into the hallway, trotting away. Felton and I looked at each other.

“Strange fellow,” Felton observed, cracking his gum. I nodded in agreement. He turned back to me and shrugged. “Well, later, Lee.”

“Nice talking to you,” I said dryly, rolling my eyes at his back as he skipped away, without a care in the world. He waved back at me without turning around and darted around the corner, probably wanting to catch up and see what the principal’s solution was going to be when it came to catching a wayward sheep. I was kind of interested in that myself, come to think of it.

I sighed and turned in the direction of my class, knowing I was going to have to miss it.

Or was I?

I heard the screaming before anything. The principal yelped loudly and I heard the sound of running before he suddenly shot around the corner, flailing wildly as he ran, yelling, Number Three darting wildly at his heels, looking more panicked than a lobster staring down at a pot of boiling water. The sheep didn’t realize it, but the fact that it happened to be running behind the principal was enough to make the man wet his pants and cry for his mama, as he demonstrated when he threw himself against the door to the office, yelling.