Chapter 2: Trouble

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Anastasia sat in the office across from the principal, Mr. Boyd. She finished summarizing what happened during recess. AJ, in a spare t shirt with his soiled shirt resting in a plastic bag, was slouched down in the other seat, looking away from them. When the principal asked if he agreed with her story, he just made a sound that could be a "uh huh".

"My parents can't come get me. They work nights. They need to sleep," she implored Mr. Boyd fearing the consequences of disturbing her nocturnal family.

"My dad can't either," AJ added.

"It's okay, you two. Neither of you are going home today, but I am giving both of you an hour of after school detention tomorrow. You just need to get your parents' signatures tonight."

"I didn't do anything wrong," AJ argued.

"You used a curse word."

AJ rolled his eyes, mumbling something incomprehensible in Spanish.

"We have a zero-bully tolerance policy that prohibits the use of degrading language and physical violence. I trust you two can put aside your differences and this won't happen again, right? If it does, we will have to take away recess time for you both. Is that understood?"

Mumbling an agreement, they took their respective slips before being dismissed. They walked back to the classroom together, their class having returned from recess by then. The hallway seemed bigger with the absence of students. AJ stopped short after they got up the steps and asked her if she had a pen in her purse. She said yes hesitantly.

"Well, can I borrow it?" He asked impatient.

"No."

"No?"

"You called me a bitch," she reminded him through gritted teeth.

"I didn't mean it. You hit me!"

"Why do you want a pen anyway?"

He lifted his chin with arrogance. "You'll see."

Curiosity won over contempt, and she gave it to him. He took his slip and signed where the parent's signature was supposed to go with a "JR".

"That is not going to work," she scoffed.

"It's worked before. I write better than my dad on most days anyway. Besides they don't really care. You should learn to copy your parent's signature. It'll save you lots of trouble."

"I am not a liar," she said starting down the hall.

"Neither am I," he shot back defensive as he fell in step beside her.

She looked at his slip with a yeah right expression.

"That doesn't count as a lie."

"What do you call it?"

He scoffed and studied her for a moment. "You wouldn't understand."

"No, I don't. So, explain."

"Forget it."

They paused by their classroom door. She could already hear Mrs. O'Bryan going over yesterday's math homework. As she placed a hand on the doorknob, she felt him grab onto her arm. She glared icily at it until it dropped to his side as if he had gotten stinging frostbite from her eyes. He offered the pen back. "Sorry about calling you a bitch. Really. I didn't mean it."

"It's fine... I guess. As long as you don't do it again. It is stupid you got detention for that. Why not just let your dad sign your slip? He is going to know you're staying after school tomorrow."

He shrugged. "Nah. He don't care."

His dad probably lets him get away with everything. An undisciplined household would explain an arrogant brat.

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