Bar Red's Redemption (Edited)

5: A Thought-Provoking Question

"Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean."
―Maya Angelou

Hey guys! Everything past this point is going to be edited and with new content involved, also in senior year (so I won't be putting that in the title portion anymore). This is just over 3k, so definitely not as long as last chapter, lol.

Anyways, love you guys and stay safe!

Chapter 5:
A Thought-Provoking Question

When Bar saw his goddess for the first time in two years, she was standing in the waiting room of their high school's office staring at him with wide eyes and a wary smile.

Before, she was nervous because she knew who he was.

Now, she was nervous for a whole new reason.

As the admission of "yours" passed from Bar's lips, the principal's door opened and the old bat herself walked out—Clementine paused in her reply to him and the relaxed grin he had on faded into a cold, venomous one as he looked at the principal.

Mrs. Burns was a worriedly thin looking woman in a professionally long skirt and business blouse, she had pin straight hair and dead blue eyes and he hated her with every cell in his body.

With her, the phrase "not everything is what it seems" always plays in his head.

Just because she looks professional, doesn't mean she is.

Mrs. Burns was sleeping with his father.

Because of this, she thought that she could control Bar. She tried to be his mom. She tried to seem caring—but he didn't need a goddamn mother, he didn't need another adult to fuss over his messed up life or the sickness in his head

He didn't need another person to leave him.

She just didn't get that yet, but Bar would spell it out letter for letter with rude gestures and blatant disrespect if that's what it took for Mrs. Burns to just leave him the fuck alone.

Once the principal spotted the glare he sent her way, she rolled her eyes and beckoned for both of them to enter her office.

"Ivory, Red," she said, making Clementine flinch and Bar tense. "A moment please."

"No fucking thank you," his reply was a smooth kind of anger. The kind that cut people up instead of tearing them apart, opposite of his father's.

"Now, Mr. Red." The authoritative tone didn't quite work on him like it should've. He's heard worse from people he's more afraid of disobeying. He wouldn't listen, not usually—but the way his girl jumped instantly had his plan to be a petty, annoying asshole go down the drain faster than Bar could say the word fuck.

Letting Clementine walk in front of him, he passed Mrs. Burns a scowl as he went into the office and plopped down into the chair next to where the goddess had taken refuge, a corner seat half-hidden next to a file cabinet.

The old bat shut the door softly behind her and came around the desk that was between them and where her own chair was positioned, sitting down without a word.

Pleasantries were passed between Clementine and Mrs. Burns but Bar refused to be pleasant to the woman who refused to accept what was right in front of her. Refused to give up on her affair.

He didn't have a choice being around his father—he had to be, there's not an escape. There's not an out he could take to get away.

But her? She had a choice. She could cut his father out of her life, she could get away from him, she could leave and not come back. She could leave, there's nothing between her and freedom.