Willow Academy (Spanking Story)

Chapter 17, Part 1: Owen's POV

That was the problem. I wasn't so sure I could hold myself responsible for something so colossal. That, and the last thing I wanted was to become more involved than I already was in this drug dealing business. Don't get me wrong—I love the money and the friendships it's given me, but running this dance deal would get me connections all over the state. I'd become a name in schools other than Willow Academy. I wasn't so sure I wanted that.

No, I was positive I didn't want that. More connections equal more deals and, while more deals does equal more money, more deals also equal more reputation. More responsibility. More fingers that could be pointed in my direction if something doesn't go right.

I didn't want to end up like my parents.

"Owen?" Riley asked, snapping me out of me reverie. I jumped, and looked cautiously back at him, hoping my face portrayed something along the lines of happiness.

"Peters wants us to meet him right now. Are you in or what?" He asked, like he already knew the answer. I already knew my answer, too. Fucking peer pressure.

I shook my head, knowing grin plastered on my face. "Are you kidding, man? What kinda question is that?" I clipped him on the back, beginning to walk down the now-deserted hallway. I was pretty sure the bell had rung, probably during my earlier introspection, when a plane could have hit the school and I wouldn't have noticed.

"Fuck yes! We're gonna be famous, Kherrington!" Riley exclaimed, trailing behind me like some kind of lovesick puppy. "Why are you going this way? We always meet Dylan near the dining hall..."

"Dude, I've got Dana's class right now. I miss that, and the whole deal might as well be off." Riley opened his mouth to protest, but I quickly cut him off. "I'm always walking on eggshells around him, especially lately. I think he's getting kind of suspicious. So, tell Peters to meet me in the usual place during third. We'll get this thing settled, then we'll get on to being famous and all that shit." I grinned, stalking toward the stairs that would take me up to the third floor of the north hall.

Riley still seemed to hesitate as we parted ways—you just didn't tell Dylan Peters "No" when he told you to do something. I hoped that our tentative friendship would keep from taking too much heat, especially if he wanted to keep that B in Calculus.

Oh, crap.

I audibly groaned, slouching against the stairwell and repeatedly banging my hand against the wall. How could I have forgotten?? Peters needed that answer key soon- definitely before the dance. I think I was supposed to have it for him today... shit!

I was already late for Dana's class! How in the hell was I supposed to snatch the answer key when he would be watching me even closer than usual?

I would have to get him out of the room again. And this time, a class would be in there, so I couldn't just go up to his desk and take it. Hell, where was a freshman in a bathroom when I needed one?

My inspiration came as I grudgingly made my way to my brother's class. The welcome wouldn't be a nice one, so why rush?

Red is my new favorite color. It should be our school color. It's the color of tomatoes and apples and fire trucks and well, fire alarms. I think you get the picture. What was a sure- fire way I could get Dana and his students out of the classroom? Why, by pulling the fire alarm, of course.

My hand had barely pulled the lever down when a sharp, shrill, blaring noise exploded around me. I had to resist the urge to cover my ears and get away from the god-awful screeching.

The reaction was instant. It was a boarding school after all, so we had to be more prepared for something like this than just your average public school student. One by one, doors began to open, and I saw edges of the American flag peeking out from the frames. I had to find a place to hide, and now, before I was swept away with the panicked crowd. The teachers' frantic instructions were a dead giveaway that this was no drill.

Brown is my second favorite color. It's the color of footballs and my hair, and, of course, the conveniently placed door just down the hallway.

I waited until all was silent, and slowly crept out of my cramped hiding place. Dana's room was right there, sitting like the Holy Grail, just waiting to be discovered. There was no way this could have gone better.

The answer key was right where I knew it'd be. Right where the last one was, and right where the future ones would be. Everything had worked out perfectly.

So, why was I such a goddamn mess? I wanted nothing more than to shove the answer key back into Dana's face and beg for forgiveness.

I just didn't want to become my parents.

Instead, I did what Owen Kherrington would always do. I put on a happy face, shoved the answer key in my pocket, and prepared myself for the massive Dance Deal, closer than I'd have ever liked it to be.