I leaned back in the chair and looked around at the all-too familiar office.
"Long time no see, eh Al?" I said.
"You will call me Mr. Kickurass," he said in a monotone.
"Alright, Mr. Kick-Your-Ass," I smirked.
"It is pronounced, 'Kick-Er-Us," he sighed.
"Alright, Mr. Kickurass," I pronounced his name the 'correct' way.
"That's better," he leaned back. "Now I understand that you picked a fight with my boy?"
"I was just defending the poor kid they were ganging up on," I said, gesturing to the door. "Your son was the one who threw the first punch."
"Oh that's silly talk!" he declared. "You're just making things up! Brent would never do that!"
"I'm not making this up! Brent and his friends were about to beat up that kid outside!" I exclaimed. "Whose name is Ian, by the way."
"I've heard enough!" he stood up. "You are suspended for the rest of the week!"
I scoffed. "Today is Thursday and Thanksgiving break starts at the end of the week. You're just giving me a day and a half off."
"Mind you, this is going on your permanent record, young man," he bellowed. "I will have Janet call your mother to pick you up."
"Nah, I can walk," I stood up. "See you later, Kick-your-ass." I walked out of the room and into the hallway.
"Later Ian," I waved lightly to Ian while walking down the hall. I walked to the front desk and politely asked Janet to not call my mom and promised that I would tell her myself. I must've been convincing because Janet said, "Okay" and put the phone down. I took a very leisurely walk home and strolled into the house whistling. Mom wasn't even home yet so I sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. A soap opera was on, so I changed the channel to Cartoon Network and, luckily, an Adventure Time marathon was on.
When Mom got home almost an hour later, she looked even more shocked that I was home than I thought she would.
"Brendon!" she exclaimed when she saw me. "What are you doing home? Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. "I just decided to come home early." She gave me a look and I told her the truth. "I got suspended."
"Again?" she sat down next to me on the couch. "What happened this time?" She sighed. "Did you put super glue on the football team's bench again?"
"No, not this time," I muted the TV. "You'd be proud of me. I prevented a kid from being bullied."
"Really?" she scooted closer. "What happened?"
"Well I was having pizza for lunch with my music teacher, Mr. Weekes, when we heard a bunch of yelling from outside so I went to go investigate and out in the hall were three big kids surrounding a smaller kid, whose name is Ian by the way, and he was completely out-numbered, so I intervened and was really just trying resolve this whole thing without fighting when one of the kids punched me in the face and then Mr. Weekes called for backup and a bunch of teachers broke up the fight that to be honest Ian and I were losing and the teacher brigade took us to the principal's office and Mr. Kick-your-ass thought I picked a fight with the bullies but he probably just has a biased opinion because one of the bullies is his son and did I mention that Kick-your ass's son is the first one to throw a punch?" I took a big breath and waited for Mom's reaction.
"So that's why you have a black eye," she pushed the hair out of my face. "I'm sorry, I didn't notice before."
"It's alright," I said. "It doesn't even really hurt."
"I'm going to get you an ice pack anyway to stop the swelling," she stood up from the couch and I followed her into the kitchen.
"Hey Mom," I sat on the counter. "Do you know any good soup recipes?"
"No," she said, placing an ice pack on my bruised eye and I winced. "Sorry. Why do you need a soup recipe?"
"Because, um, you know how I made those new friends?" She nodded. "Well, after that thunderstorm they all got sick and I wanna make some soup for them now that I have the time to."
"Well, that's nice of you," she said. "I'll dig up some old cookbooks for you."
"Thanks," I smiled and held the ice pack to my face. "Do you think Grey's is still on?"
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"Brendon, don't put cinnamon in there!"
"But I think it would taste nice!"
"It doesn't matter! Cinnamon. Doesn't. Go. In. Soup!"
"Mom, I know what I'm doing. I'm the best student in Home Ec., Mrs. Noble told me herself."
"Well I guess you know what you're doing and I'll just leave you to it," Mom walked off.
I scoffed and put the cinnamon in the soup before stirring it in there.
It couldn't be that bad, could it? I thought before grabbing a spoon and tasting it, nearly choking. Yes. It could be.
"Mom, you were right," I said. She walked back into the kitchen.
"I told you!" she placed a big cookbook on the counter. "Now, I found a recipe for a crockpot soup, which means you can put all the stuff in tonight and tomorrow morning it will be ready for you to take to your friends."
"That's perfect!" I gave her a hug. "Thanks, Mom."
"Well you are more than welcome," she hugged back. "Brendon, what do we do with your 'cinnamon soup'?"
"I dunno," I pulled away. "Maybe Dad would like it?"
"You now what? You're probably right," she picked up a spoon. "Let's try this and see what we can do."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
yaaay chapter :D
picture to the right is brendon c: