Devil on the Rooftop [Book 1]

Chapter 57 - Arisa

I remembered all my big talk from a few days ago. I judged Khaleel based on his appearance and on the fact that he was escorted to the dean's office. Now, I was in that exact same boat. Our circumstances were different, but I was receiving the same side-eyes from passing students that I gave him.

The receptionist was no exception. The woman who had shown zero interest in me had fewer things to say this time around. The only reason I didn't want to crawl in a hole and live out my life there, was because of Mr. Hermans. He was keeping me company. We were on one of the many chairs stationed outside the dean's office. There wasn't too much to look at, except for a few awards he had won for being a commendable disciplinarian. Honestly, I couldn't be bothered to appreciate the integrity of the space when the school had reported the incident to my mother.

If I had to choose between facing the dean, or the woman who brought me into this world, I would pick the former. I knew the fight wasn't my fault. I also knew my actions hadn't caused any real damage, but I also knew I had to take responsibility. I didn't have to get involved. I could have minded my business and let things unfold on their own. My mom had to understand that I was only trying to prevent something worse from happening. I had to trust that she would believe in me. Mr. Hermans was there. He would vouch for me. He would vouch for me, wouldn't he? I turned to face the teacher. He got a handle on the situation a lot faster than I expected him to. It was surprising to see his fighting skills up close and personal.

"Sir," I spoke quietly.

He gave me his full attention.

"You don't think I'm going to be suspended do you?"

Mr. Hermans shook his head. "From what I saw, you were trying to do the right thing."

I nodded. "Thanks for acknowledging that."

He leaned back in his chair. "Although, I must say, Arisa. That was quite an impressive block."

My cheeks burned. "Uh, thank you. My mother made me take some pretty intense self-defense classes growing up."

Mr. Hermans nodded. "Never a bad idea for a young lady like yourself."

"Yeah," I exhaled. "That or she's extremely paranoid about me mixing in with the wrong crowd."

Mr. Hermans faced me. "And have you been mixing in with the wrong crowd?"

I shrugged. "I've made some pretty bad choices since I came to this school. I should be studying and trying to maintain my grade point average, but instead, I've let my curiosity get the better of me."

"I don't think it's as easy as just being a good student," Mr. Hermans said. "I believe everything happens for a reason and it's our experiences that mould us into becoming who we are. Every good and bad decision is a contributing factor, you just have to roll with the punches until you come out standing taller, stronger, and hopefully, a little more confident."

"When will that be?" I joked.

Mr. Hermans smiled. "I'll let you know once I've achieved it."

"You're alright, Mr. Hermans."

"Thank you for acknowledging that."

I laughed.

The doors to the administration office swung open and mom walked in, looking elegant as ever. Her presence was strong enough to hold the entire room's attention. I assumed she came from the office because of the navy skirt-suit she wore. Her blonde hair was tied into a stunning bun and her pale complexion brushed up with just a hint of make-up. Her cold blue eyes searched the room for me.

I stood up and waved sheepishly. "Hey mom," I said, directing her towards me.

Mom forced me in her arms. I inhaled her lavender scent and enjoyed the comfort of her embrace. "Are you okay, love?" she asked.

I nodded. "Not a scratch on me, mom."

"There are plenty of scratches on you!" she argued, pointing out the cuts on my knees and forehead.

I laughed uncomfortably. "That was from yesterday," I whispered. "I had a bit of a fall."

Mom shook her head. "This is unacceptable behaviour, Arisa. I want you to enjoy your youth but not like this. Accepting drinks from strangers and getting into fights? That is not the kind of teenager I thought I was raising."

Mr. Hermans stood up from his spot. "Sorry to interrupt," he said to her. "Hi, I'm Arisa's history teacher."

"Mr. Hermans," I added, eager to have him vouch for me. "He's the one who stopped the fight from getting out of hand."

"And Arisa here was trying to do the same," Mr. Hermans offered. "She just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Isn't that right?"

"One million percent!" I nodded, vigorously.

Mom gave me the stink eye.