𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗔 𝗖𝗥𝗬?

𝗶𝗶𝗶. 𝗛-𝗘-𝗱𝗼𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘆 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸𝘀

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ෴ 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈
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WILBUR || BRIGHTON, EAST SUSSEX
1976

"IF WE ALL KEEP QUIET, THEY WON'T BE ABLE TO PROVE ANYTHING," James spoke after a momentary breath of silence. 

The atmosphere in the corridor was stiffer than a frozen stick of butter on a December morning, seeming to suffocate with every gasp for air. Scuffed black loafers squeaked to and fro against the grimy tiled floor. Brown curls bounced with the narrowing of angry brown eyes. William felt a frown tip at his lips.

"Which would be fantastic for you, right?" He jeered, gritting his teeth.

James rolled his eyes with a cynical smile, "And for you."

"What about Victoire, though? What's in it for her?"

Beside him, the blonde hurriedly shook her head. Her pink lips pursed into a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine!"

Just then, the door to the office creaked open and the principal's secretary poked her head out. Ginger waves fell from the beehive plopped neatly atop her head. She smiled thinly at the trio, long red fingernails tapping hurriedly against the doorway, "You can come in now."

The principal of Brighton Middle School, Mr Johnson, was in the twilight of a long and laborius career. He had taught year nine English for twenty-two years, and his heart continued to palpitate with the collected disappointments born of unsuccessfully inveigling two generations of sullen teenagers into reading Huckleberry Finn. But if his time as an educator had been bland and unfulfilling for everyone involved, now Mr Johnson had found his true forte. He was a born administrator, thriving on order and imposing it onto the ensuing chaos of the rebellious youth. Insubordination and rule-breaking were not tolerated. Sactions were imposed swiftly and without mercy.

As they filed silently into the room, Mr Johnson glared at them from behind his desk. Victoire's mother Elise and Mr Gold were sitting to one side. They shuffled to an awkward halt in the middle of the room, principal Johnson not bothering to hide his irritation. He scanned the group with a heavy sigh, massaging his temples.

"We might as well begin," he forced, "We tried to call your mother, James, but apparently she was too busy to come in." -he did not sound surprised. William assumed that James' mother and the principal were already well aquainted- "So, lady and gentlemen, will someone explain what the three of you were doing?"

There was a long silence. Eventually, James spoke up, "We were just having a little bit of fun."

"A bit of fun," Mr Johnson wrinkled his nose, seeming unimpressed.