Started with a Whisper

Whisper - 9

I brush my fingers over my lips when I walk through the office door, my name is immediately spilled from someone's mouth as I look up, "Darcy Munroe?" The secretary has been expecting me, and so I step forward, nodding my head.

"That's me," I tell her, half perplexed as to why I was called down in the first place, did they catch my almost kiss on tape? Is that why? Would they tell my parents about my inappropriate school behavior? Was my dad going to lock me in a closet? Oh God, the possibilities were endless.

"The principal is waiting for you in his office," she jerks her head towards the door with blinds drawn at the window placed in its center. I swallow hard, fingers curling, I didn't do anything. If he says I'm guilty of PDA, I'll plead innocence and say Levi was forcing me.

I knock hesitantly on the door, and it swings open before I get a chance to knock again, Principal Slaughenhaup is staring stone-faced down at me, his overall authority overwhelming in such an enclosed office. The door closes and it makes me cringe, it sounds louder to my ears than it probably was.

"Have a seat, Ms. Munroe." He tells me, taking one himself, pulling out my school file. I gingerly planted my butt on the chair as I was told, tripping over myself a little as I did so, my gangly limbs a curse of their own. "Are you aware of any lockers that have been vandalised near Mrs. Baker's homeroom?"

My brows furrow together in confusion, and I cross my arms defensively, knowing nothing good was about to happen. "No, sir, I'm not," surprisingly my voice is level and calm.

His face puckered in accusation, not believing me when I declined the knowledge. Frankly, I was completely unaware, and so I just stared blanly ahead. "Well, you've been turned in, and camera footage is evidence against your vandalism."

"Is this some kind of joke?" I ask, my anger flaring at such a false accusation. His brows knot, and his eyes narrow at me. He picks up a remote, points it to a television perched behind me, and I turn to watch the silent footage that airs on the screen. Sure enough, I'm walking down the hall, towards the wing where Mrs. Baker's homeroom is located.

"Is that not you, Ms. Munroe?"

"It is me but - "

"You are the only liable suspect, and we have information from an inside source that has seen you commit the crime." No where in this video does it show me destroying or vandalizing any locker.

"I'd like to know who," I say bitterly, I won't be surprised if it's the she-devil herself.

"Levi Turner," he says smoothly, and with that, my whole fabricated sense of safety shatters, "Thankfully, the young lady has agreed not to press any charges for harrassment against you, you should feel very lucky. An apology might not be a bad idea either, Darcy. We will have to notify your parents of this sudden cry for attention, is there anything going on at home you need to talk about?"

I'm taken aback, and insulted, "No!" I straighten myself up, and tug at the hem of my shirt.

"Ms. Munroe, if you recieve one more strike, I'll have no choice but to suspend you, and don't push me to go further with expulsion. Your record looks clean, let's keep it that way."

When on Earth did I have the time to vandalise a locker today?

"It won't happen again," I mutter reluctantly. I turn to leave, but he clears his throat and I stop, and face him once more.

"Oh and Darcy, I really do think an apology to Chelsea Stewart is in order, see that is done. I'll check in with her for progress, I'm giving you twenty four hours," with that, he motions for me to the leave the room. His hands reach for the glasses folded neatly in front of him, and he places them onto his nose, going back to doing whatever it is that he was doing before I came in.

My body is rigid when I leave the cool atmosphere of the high shcool office, my anger is at an all time high. I'm furious. Aboslutely disgusted with myself and Levi.

He turns me in for something I didn't do, and then tries to kiss me?

I realize he wants valedictorian, but would he go that far?

The answer was boldly ringing through my ears, that conversation overplaying in my head.

Yes.

It became all too clear what was happening, it was that popular concept that really hit home just now, 'any enemy of my enemy is a friend of mine'. Chelsea hated my guts, and was convinced I was some ticking whore time bomb, Levi hated me ever since we were children and has fought to be better than me in everything we do against each other.

They were teaming up.

They were planning my downfall.

I almost trusted him.

My mistake.

I go into the bathroom for a breather, and check my reflection in the mirror, my skin is glowing from my tempermental adrenaline rush. My hair is a little messy, but other than that I am fine. I rub some clumpy mascara away from underneath my eyes and collect myself.

He was nothing to me anyway.

"Hey, you're Darcy Munroe right?" I am caught off guard as a curious voice reverberates in the empty bathroom, a girl with thick liner and pale lips is staring at me like I'm some kind of zoo animal. Curiosity and wonder. Her eyeliner makes her seem cat-like. I think I know her, but I'm not so sure.

"Yeah," I say. Her small frame is leaning into the wall with the hand dryers, arms crossed against her chest, back arched. A slightly amused look on her face. She has a dark brown pixie cut and wears crimson and black. Dark edgy combat boots are untied at her feet.

"I heard what you did," she asks, "It was cool."

She doesn't say another word, instead she gives me a short, two-fingered salute and marches out of the bathroom without a purpose. Her name is on the tip of my tongue, and I remember a shy girl with braces and knotted hair from the sixth grade. She was severely bullied, and something snapped. One day, she just cut her hair, lost the braces and did a complete transformation.

Her name is Logan. Now I remember.

Besides Levi, who I thought was strangely being nice to me, she is the only person who has approached me with no intention of harm. But, now, she's the only one. Levi has always had it out for me, I don't know why I thought that would change.

I know I'm late for math, but I don't care, I stop at my locker, and see a book perched in front of my locker with a note attached. The book is the Scarlet Letter, famous for being one of the most popular books about a woman who commits adultery and pays the consequences by emblazoning a red 'A' on her chest to suffer through her public humiliation. The note simply says: 'Something to prepare you for what is to come.'

I crumple it up and shove the book into my locker, the note is like a hot coal in my hands, not a painful searing, but more of an angry blaze.

So much for the golden days. High school is something I can live without.

Whatever apology Chelsea is expecting, she isn't getting it.