There were many rumors surrounding the principal, Mrs. Parks, and her legendary office.
One of them included the fact that Mrs. Parks smoked in her office all day long, lazing around in her chair. Another story exclaimed that if Mrs. Parks left for a couple of minutes, you'd have the opportunity to search the entire perimeter of the room, for any stashes of condoms.
Why anyone would find that entertaining, I do not know why, though apparently, the principal and the school janitor were having an affair.
Personally, I'd only been to her office a few times and nothing out of the ordinary occurred. Maybe that would explain my dismissing the rumors as some mere fantasy, even when my friends, Nicolas and Tony insisted they were true. They swore up and down that XYZ of some cousin had told them that they'd heard it from some other kid's best friend's little brother.
Who would believe such a dumb thing, with no proof apart from a random person's testimony? Anybody with a decent amount of brain cells, right?
I guess you can't always assume things when you've never seen them for yourself because I experienced the truth behind all of it, like a huge slap across the face.
Not only did I walk into Mrs. Parks and the janitor humping like bunny rabbits on her desk, but there was a faint stench of cigarettes lazing in the air. They immediately jumped up when they noticed me, their faces a mask of astonishment.
“Uhhh...” I did not know what to say.
While the two of them adjusted their clothes, exchanging embarrassed looks, I stood awkwardly near the door, unsure of what to do. Pulling his cap down, the janitor shuffled past me, probably mortified at being caught.
Mrs. Parks glared at me. “Don't just stand there,” she said in a tone that implied she was pretending nothing had happened, “Have a seat.”
I obeyed. Mrs. Parks crossed her skinny arms against her ugly yellow sweater and eyed me.
“Your hair is against school etiquette. It is a few inches too long, young man.”
I unconsciously fiddled with my dark brown hair. “I was supposed to get a haircut last week, but my grandmother forgot to leave me the money for it.”
Mrs. Parks sighed, shaking her head in annoyance. “Please get it done as soon as possible. You're ruining the school's image.”
Wow. That was pretty stupid, coming from someone who literally confirmed many disturbing rumors about her.
“What brings you here?” Judging by the tone of her voice, I could tell she was pretty pissed to have been interrupted by some measly student.
“The guidance counselor, Mr. Scott, sent me here to discuss after school activities,” I said.
She shuffled through her desk drawer and pulled out a white binder. “Hmmm, right.” She went through several stacks of papers before finally settling down on my file.
“Mr. Kara, many of your teachers have come forward to discuss your lack of participation in school activities. Ever since you quit the volleyball team, you have not shown a single shred of school spirit, and frankly, that is quite a disgrace for one of our students. Do you have anything to say about that?”
I kept quiet.
“I hope you're aware that we have a very strict school system that enforces every student to enroll and participate in at least one club activity,” she continued, “You had been allowed to take some time off from school and clubs, in order for you to mourn the loss of your family. However, this has gone on for far too long. It's been four months now. Your grades have drastically decreased, you are said to never listen in class and of course, you refuse to participate in anything.”
She paused. By now, my blood was boiling in anger. Yet, I knew if I even dared to protest, I'd be in even more trouble. I decided to stare at the colorful poster behind her head to keep myself from exploding. She proceeded to drone on and on about my school performance, etiquette and a subject I never wanted to even remember, but who insisted to crawl back into my life day after day.
The past.
Who was she to bring it up so casually, acting as if it weren't affecting me and -
“Therefore, you have three days to join a club or I will have no choice but to expel you.”
My eyes bulged open in surprise, propelling me out of my thoughts. Wait, what?
“M-Mrs. Parks! With all due respect, I am not stable enough to even contribute to one club. I don't think I'll be of any help to anyone! Could you not extend the exception and allow me to finish the school year without additional stress?”
In a clipped and formal tone, the despicable woman, owner of an ugly yellow sweater, shut me down in an instant. “No. Now, please leave my office.”
It was useless to argue. I stood up and walked towards the door.
“Oh and,” Mrs. Parks said from afar, “that scene you walked into between Richard and me...You better keep quiet about it.”
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