Monday mornings should be illegal; attending school before ten on a Monday morning should be illegal. Getting home from a college party after three in the morning also is not doing me any favors with handling this Monday morning.
My head is still pounding after last night's loud bass thumping and the massive fatigue from only getting less than two hours of sleep. To make matters even better, Georgia had stayed up waiting in the dark of my room to scold me.
A little bit excessive if you ask me. However, Georgia's methods are not nearly as excessive as the Principal Secretary's need to hit the overhead intercom any chance she can get.
"Clarisse Messer, report to Principal Millan's office at once!" Her shrill voice processes in my head as long nails being dragged across a chalkboard.
Why does Mrs. Trejo still work here? How can anyone stand working with a woman who sounds as annoying as she does?
The worst part about all of this is that I am not hungover. Well, not hungover from alcohol but sleep deprivation is a real pain. Maybe I will find a vampire that can turn me into one of them just to avoid the consequences of no sleep. Just keep me far away from the disco ball species; I already attract enough attention as it is.
As I make my way down the nearly barren hall, I feel a hovering presence following right behind me. Don't tell me he is taking it upon himself to come join a meeting that he is not invited to. Not that I should be surprised since he did crash the Dance committee meeting last week. I have never seen Paxton attend a school dance nor have I ever heard him spout positive remarks on school dances.
Snagging a quick glance at a classroom window, I get my confirmation. The six-foot-two, brown-haired, and green-eyed giant is trailing right behind me.
I decide to ignore him and lead the two of us to the closed office door. Normally I would be polite and hold the door open for strangers behind me, but Paxton is just straight up strange.
Placing my hand on the metallic handle and pushing down, I fling the office door open and march right into the lobby. The silent giant follows me but takes a seat in the purple plush chair by the door.
Mrs. Trejo is nowhere in sight so, out of habit, I lean over her desk and begin to uncap all of her pens sitting in the small bucket.
"Principal Millan is ready for you, Miss. Messer." Mrs. Trejo announces from somewhere behind me. I quickly pull the last pen cap off and straighten my posture.
Plastering a smile on my face, I turn around to face Mrs. Trejo. "Thank you for your service."
Paxton is up on his feet once again, but he decides to take the lead this time. Mrs. Trejo doesn't bother to stop Paxton from entering Millan's office, even though there is no "Copeland" in "Messer." This is also a violation of privacy but Paxton is the epitome of privacy violation.
"Mr. Copeland, please come in!" Mr. Millan's deep voice rumbles enthusiastically. I peer around Paxton to see the dark-haired, middle-aged man sitting behind a massive desk. The smile on his face is so wide I can see the crow's feet from where I am standing.
Paxton steps off to the side leaving me exposed to Principal Millan's line of view. The smile on his face defaults back into his standard grimace.
"Miss. Messer, close the door and have a seat." I can feel the enthusiasm radiating off him just like I can feel the sun radiating onto my skin at the beach.
Without wanting to argue and spend even more unnecessary time in Millan's suffocating presence, I do as I am told and begrudgingly park my butt beside Paxton.
Principal Millan starts our boring little meeting by skipping the pleasantries and clasping his hands together in a businesslike manner.
"Mr. Copeland has informed me, Miss. Messer, of your delinquent behavior. To say I am disappointed in your choices would be far beyond an understatement. Believe it or not, disappointed loses meaning after the tenth time. Really unacceptable." Principal Millan shakes his head, as he continues to stare deep into my soul. "Sending you to detention or in school suspension is pointless."
Okay, so if Millan is already ruling out the standard school punishments, does that mean he will opt for the home suspension? Not that I oppose that ruling but there is only so much a girl can do before getting bored.
"Meeting adjourned," I reach my hand out for Millan to shake, as I get up slowly from my seat.
His eyes glance down for a brief second before coming back up to meet my own. "I'll be the one to call an adjournment, Miss. Messer. Have a seat."
Talk about harsh. All I want to do is move on and go take my daily morning nap in U.S. Government.
Taking my hand back, I sit back down and turn my body to face the door. If this meeting ends up going south, like I believe it will, I can easily make a dash for it.
"Mr. Copeland has agreed to be your mentor the rest of the semester. He will be holding you accountable for your actions and reporting back to me at the end of each week. This mentorship will extend outside of school hours as well."
Wild guess, Paxton must have written in his snitch report his proposition to reform me. I would rather spend my punishment in detention scraping off gum from under the desks.
"No thank you," waving my hand dismissively in the air, I turn my head in Paxton's direction. I narrow my eyes at him, cross my arms over my chest, and turn my nose up in the air to further exaggerate my disgust.
"I am not asking for your approval, Miss. Messer. You either have Mr. Copeland be your mentor for the remainder of the semester or face charges for breaking and entering."
Okay, so Millan isn't in a playful mood. No big deal. I'll just have to get my "mentor" back on my own time.
Uncrossing my arms, I begrudgingly turn my attention back to the president of Judson High. "Fine."
"Good," he nods his head in approval. "Get out of here, both of you."
Principal Millan doesn't have to tell me twice to get out of his office. In fact, I would have been gone the second I walked into his office, if I wasn't just the tiniest bit scared of him. Noah is a bit scared of Millan, even though he has yet to get called into Principal Millan's office.
I lead the two of us out into the office lobby and past Mrs. Trejo fiddling around with her elephant shaped paperclips. She is so engrossed with her current activity that she doesn't bother to acknowledge our presence.
At least, that's what I thought until I opened the office door and heard her overly enthusiastic voice.
"I'll see you fifth period, Mr. Copeland!"
"See you, Mrs. Trejo!" Paxton replies back with the same level of enthusiasm. I don't even have to turn around to see him lifting his hand in a parting wave. Paxton is just that kind of dork.
Cringe, cringe, cringety, cringe, cringe. I can see my future self with a face full of wrinkles all because I knew a massive dork. The question is, will my forehead wrinkles be bigger than the nose wrinkles?
My feet start to wander in the direction of the nearest restroom. Paxton, being the committed guy he is, follows after me.
"Where are you going, Clarisse? Mr. Harlow's class is that way?" his hand wraps around my wrist and starts to drag me in the opposite direction of the bathroom.
I quickly dig my heels into the ground and start to put as much force as I can to pull him in the direction I want to go in.
"Let go of my wrist, Copeland," I demand through gritted teeth. "Just because the school system is modeled after the prison system doesn't mean you have to act like a guard."
"I told Principal Millan that I would hold you accountable for your actions. U.S. Government with Mr. Harlow is the complete opposite direction of where you are going."
My tolerance for Paxton has officially reached its maximum for today, and the annoyed little gremlin starts to come out.
"I will not be having anyone dictate when I can and cannot go to the restroom," finally pulling my wrist away from him, I angrily snap. "Go run and report to Millan that my bodily functions are worth being sent to detention instead."
His face pales at my tone and he gestures for me to go on ahead. Rolling my eyes at having to ordered around by a guy my own age, I turn around and carry myself the last few steps to the restroom.
Knowing that personal boundaries is not in Paxton's vocabulary list, I'm surprised he didn't take it upon himself to follow me right into the restroom. For all he knows, I could be standing on the toilet seat unlocking the window to make my escape. Not a very smart move if you ask me.
I walk out of the bathroom five minutes later to see Paxton leaned up the wall adjacent to the bathroom. He has his hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans and is lowly humming an unfamiliar song to himself.
This is going to be an ultra long day. Go on ahead and mark my words. Hell, go on ahead and inscribe my words onto my headstone. At the rate today is going, I'll be expired by lunchtime.
As if my luck could get any better, the bell rings to signal the end of class. I don't think I would have been able to take a nap in Harlow's class without having a terrible nightmare of Paxton's face. Just the thought of him is enough to send an unpleasant shiver down my spine.