Blame Me, Blakely

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Scene 1: Headmistress Sanderson's office

Leo Rylin

"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" I walked into her office and took a seat in front of her desk.

"I sent for you twenty minutes ago, Leonardo," she sighs.

"I got lost, it's a big school," I shrug and lean back in my chair.

"You have always managed to find your way here before."

"Is there a reason I'm here, Sanderson?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Headmistress Sanderson to you, Leonardo. We show respect at Addington High, understood?"

"I don't understand why I'm here," I groan, "I haven't done anything all week."

"Are you denying any involvement with yesterday's incident?"

"That sad excuse for a fight? Yeah, I wasn't a part of that," I speak truthfully, "but it's not like you didn't already know that."

"I am not obliged to tell you what information I do or do not know, Mr. Rylin." I can sense she's getting frustrated with my responses.

"Face it, if you had anything on me, I'd be expelled already."

She huffs but keeps her composure as she walks to the door and opens it. "You can come in now, Heather," Headmistress smiles and invites her in. "Take a seat next to Leonardo."

Heather Blakely...high society trust fund baby. I have a class or two with her, I think. She was at the fight yesterday...on the ground but there, nonetheless. I spoke to her so she knows I wasn't fighting. For once, I'll be leaving Sanderson's office without a week of detention.

"You witnessed yesterday's events, am I right, Ms. Blakely?" Sanderson asks.

"Yes, I was there from the beginning until the end," Heather nods and looks a little nervous.

"Can you name anyone else you saw there as well?"

"Um— yes, Jace Kendal and Trevor Bailey," she says cautiously.

"Yes, Heather, I know that. However, they were not fighting each other. Did you see anyone other than them there?"

"I saw...him."

"Him as in..." Headmistress urges her to continue.

"...Leo." I quickly turn to her and furrow my eyebrows.

"Ah, so you were there, after all, Mr. Rylin," Sanderson smiles victoriously.

"Wha— I mean, yes, I was there. But I wasn't fighting, tell her Heather. I asked if you were okay, tell her the truth," I look almost desperately at her. The one time I'm actually innocent, I get brought down by a fucking park avenue princess.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are your knuckles wrapped up?" Sanderson asks about the only honest incriminating evidence they have on me.

"I got in a fight outside of school. I have a life that doesn't involve this place. Trust me, if I bashed some centrals' faces in, I would own it."

"And risk expulsion?" She looks as if she expects me to say 'no.'

"We don't want to be here just as much as you don't want us here," I respond.

"We? As in who?"

"All of your charity cases, Sanderson," I roll my eyes, "all the little street kids you let into your pretty school."

"Leonardo," she sighs, "believe it or not, I am not the enemy. No one thinks of you as charity, you're thought of as any other bright pupil here. You're someone whose chance of succeeding is limited by you and you only."

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