Suffocate

Chapter 16

Why is this happening? Why? Mom and Dad are sitting in extra leathery chairs beside me. I can feel the tension radiating from both of them.

Kenley takes his seat in front of us, at his desk, whilst bearing the strangest smile on his face, before his features revert back to his angsty self. Kenley noisily clears his throat. He looks to me, then to my parents.

"Mrs. Hayden," Kenley starts. Mom smiles politely. She's obviously wary, but she keeps a straight face to not show her true emotions.

"Yes?" Mom asks.

"Are you aware that your son has not been in school for the majority of the year?" Kenley asks her gently. Mom's eyes narrow in question while Dad tilts his head.

I meet my dad's eyes for a second, before looking down at my lap.

That's right. Dad hasn't been here. He doesn't know anything.

"He's supposed to be in school," Mom says slowly. She nods her head, agreeing with herself. "Bryson, what's been going on?" Mom asks me. I scoff at her.

Not this again. Kenley clears his throat for the second time.

"Apparently," Kenley interjects, "He's been working. It is not allowed for students to have jobs." Dad hums softly.

"I'm sorry," my dad speaks up. "I was not aware of the situation." Kenley nods his head, clearly not perturbed.

"Yes, I can believe so. What with you not being around anymore to support your family, no disrespect intended," Kenley pries. Dad folds his arms over his chest.

"What you are saying is true. It seems our situation at home has greatly affected our son's school performance," Dad says. I cringe when he speaks, yet, I manage to force down my disgust.

Kenley hums in agreement. "So much so that he's on the verge of expulsion." Mom gasps while Dad's grip on his arms tighten. Silently, I gaze at the way his knuckles turn white.

"You're not serious?" Mom asks, distraught. Kenley shakes his head.

"I am, Mrs. Hayden. Your boy, over there," he points a finger at me, "Has not had the best attendance, academic performance, nor appropriate tolerance for this school during his entire time here. He is going to be expelled, unless something drastically changes," Kenley leaves off. He folds his hands together, then sighs, shrugging his broad shoulders.

Dad sighs deeply. "Bryson," he begins. I purposely turn my head to stare at the lone bookshelf in the corner of the room, ignoring him. "You better start explaining yourself." I shrug.

"Forget it," I mutter.

"Forget it?" Dad abruptly stands from his chair; the metallic screech of the legs scraping across the floor causes everyone to cringe in discomfort. The hairs on me rise when I earn an abrupt slap to the back of my head. "You're in your senior year, about to get expelled, and you're telling me to forget it? Have you lost your mind!" Dad yells.

I caress the back of my head gently. Wasting no precious time, I quickly move away from him. Mom's suddenly got her hands wrapped around my father's arm.

"Sweetie, sit down," she says softly. I resist rolling my eyes. My arm stretches out for my bag on the ground.

"I'm leaving." Dad's piercing gaze shoots right at me. I swallow down any nerves and stare back at him.

"You're going to start shaping up," Dad says stiffly. Not only does he somehow force me back into my seat, but he takes his seat beside me and has my bag in his hold. "Please, continue, Mr. Kenley. I apologize for our rude behavior."