The Life and Times of Zac Claxon

Chapter 7 - Pants.

"Enter." A gruff voice sounded through the Principal's door. I nudged it open slowly, peeking in then closing the door behind me. I took in the room, noting the wall on my right filled with awards and degrees. Turned out the principal has not only a Masters but also a PhD. The wall directly in front of me couldn't really be called a wall; it was filled by a massive bookshelf. All the classics were there, 1984, Animal Farm, Pride and Prejudice, all of them. I could tell the principal was a modern man too; as my eyes moved down the shelf I saw the current teen bestsellers, including The Hunger Games (a personal favourite), Thirteen Reasons Why (another favourite) and numerous others. My face falling in disdain, I also saw a copy of twilight.

"Don't worry, I keep that in case I run out of toilet paper." Mr Gordall chuckled, nodding at the copy of twilight that I was scowling at. "I'm Mr. Gordall, as I'm sure you already know." I did know. How did he know I knew? He must have heard Hazel and I last night.

As the moments passed, I felt more and more certain he knew about the things that happenned last night.

"I know this isn't the best way to hit it off, but I'm afraid I haven't been impressed. I'm a relaxed principal, and I don't usually punish students, but to be honest your behaviour has been completely out of line." He said, his face stern and unflinching. Oh God, how did he know? He couldn't possibly have been at the club. Maybe the fence? But why would he be awake at that hour? "This is your letter of suspension." He said, his eyes still trained penetratingly on mine. I was too busy looking at the envelope.

I heard a chuckle and looked up to see Mr. Gordall laughing away. "You should have seen your face!" His face was about as red as a tomato. "I'm kidding son. Welcome to Hoffman Estates High." He said, still grinning, leaning over to shake my hand.

"So...I'm not in trouble?" I questioned nervously.

"Should you be?" Mr Gordall raised his eyebrows while I stared at the desk mutely. "It's alright, we all like to mess around sometimes. That envelope isn't a suspension letter, it's a welcome letter. It includes the code of conduct and a map of the school as well as some information on your teachers."

Just then, the phone that was lying on the edge of the desk started vibrating, Larry Platt's voice coming from the speaker.

Pants on the Ground, 

Pants on the Ground. 

Lookin' like a foo' with yo 

Pants on the Ground.

"We don't appreciate sagging here." he said knowingly. "Now if you'll excuse me I have to take this call. Just remember that I'm here if you need anything." He reassured, bringing the phone to his ear.

Silently, I picked up a pen and a post it note lying on his desk as he looked on inquisitively while still in the phone. Grinning, I wrote, "Nice taste in music :P" and walked out, easing the door shut behind me. So much for getting my ass kicked for underage drinking and driving.

But he had still gotten the rumours started.

________________

I could tell that shit had been flying from the horse's mouth the moment I walked back into the culinary arts lesson. Mr. Wilson glared at me as if I'd been in bed with his wife, and for all I knew according to the rest of the class I had.

Ignoring the stares, I walked right over to the worktop that Hazel and I were using and threw the envelope onto it angrily. "What did that bitch say while I was gone?"

Hazel looked at me pitifully. "She said you had been stalking her."

I knew it. "That's great. Did I ever you that I love Switch?"

"I thought you hated it."

"I'm beginning to think it wasn't so bad." I said with a forced smile.

We continued working in silence; Hazel had already knead the dough so I greased the tin; we were making bread. Now all that was left for the yeast to work and let the bread rise, and that would take half an hour of no work.

"Zac?" Hazel asked after a long an awkward silence, her voice nervous and her big round eyes staring up at me.

"Mhmm?" I avoided her gaze until she took my chin in her hand and forced me to look at her.

"What did Mr Gordall say?" Oh right. That. I forgot about that.

"Umm... first of all, he told me he wasn't impressed and was disappointed with my behaviour. He then told me that this envelope," I said, gesturing at the envelope, "contains my suspension letter."

Hazel stifled a gasp, her hand over her mouth. "How come you were the only one? Was it for the bike or the club?"

I was grinning by now. "He then told me he was kidding and welcomed me to the school."

Hazel slapped my arm in mock anger, biting her lip. Gosh, I have got to stop thinking about how cute it is when she does that. "Zac! You could have told me earlier!"

"You didn't ask."

"Whatever. Did he say anything else?"

"Well, he was halfway through explaining that this envelope had all the rules when Pants on the Ground came on." I replied, grinning.

"Pants on the...wait what?"

"It's his ring tone." Hazel burst out laughing at this, making these hysterical little noises that knotted my stomach and put a lump in my throat. "Come here, you!" I whispered, pulling her into a hug.

Just then a throat cleared behind me. Where have I heard that before?

"No personal displays of affection, young man. I'd expect better behaviour from you considering you've just come back from the prinicipal's office." Mr. Wilson grunted. How does that guy sneak up so damn quietly?

Yup, they'd been feeding rumours. He had no idea what the visit was really about.

I pulled away from Hazel and put on my best student voice. "I'm sorry Mr Wilson, I wasn't aware of the rules. Mr Gordall called me to give them to me," I said in my sweetest voice, holding up the envelope. "And I haven't gotten around to reading them."

Mr Wilson was clearly annoyed at having been proven wrong. "Well you better get reading then." This guy clearly had a thing for grunting at students.

As he walked away, I turned to face the Hazel, glancing at the class as well. They had all gone quiet, listening to my little encounter with authority.

Oh great. Now they'll label me a nerd or worse, a teachers pet. Like it could get any worse.

"Hey Jack, I heard you stole that motorbike of yours." Mo whispered provocatively over the table.

I think I spoke too soon. Is it still too early for me to hope it'll stop here?