Her Pacifier: Secrets From The Past

Chapter 42

"You lot are in big trouble," Principal Henry justifies. Us, the ornaments and other items on his chestnut desk, jump as he slaps his palm on the computer mouse. The little blue controller crushes under his malicious act but doesn't make him flinch or wince at the damage it's destruction has marked on his hand. When he sees we've noticed this, he curses something beneath his breath I didn't quite catch, to cover it up.

"We know and we sincerely apologize, sir," I earnestly say.

"All that matters is that we've returned to our home, safely. This isn't such a big deal-"

I glare at Passion from my seat and she rolls her eyes but stops talking. I roll my own back at her, then jump when she stomps my feet.
The dean notices our encounter and interlocks his bruised fingers, cautiously placing them on his expensive looking desk.
"I reckon sneaking in was your idea, Miss Papillon?"

I sit up straight and shove her feet under her chair. "It was our idea, sir," I correct, "But not in the way you think-"

The dean raises his hand to put my yapping to a halt. "Miss Papillon can answer for herself, Mr Hawk."

Passion crosses her arms under her bust then flickers her thick lashes. "As you saw, we were caught in action altogether and here we are... altogether. So, in your common sense, Dean Henry, what does that information mean?"

"That we did it together." Sammy smiles.

"There we are!" Passion says in her egotistical manner. "Give us our check marks and have us crucified on a cross. You caught us red handed once again."

I glance at Collen at the end of our row. He is seated on the the last chair not far from the crackling fireplace. The flame's heat illuminates most of this dim office and the unapologetic pout on his stupid face.

Liar. Liar. Liar.

"You know, Miss Papillon, I've experienced disrespect, carelessness and lack of empathy from you throughout the years you've stayed with us," the dean begins, eyeing her. "It's not common sense to put 1 and 1 together, but a brief fact to know that you're always the answer 2 to every situation.
"You are the fact. The unfortunate answer. And you're pulling your friends down with you. Deep beneath the graves."

Passion snorts, "That's preposterous."

"Your yearly records is what is," the dean icily clips in. Judging by the veins nearly surfacing his forehead and his fists, you can tell his furious but mentally, the poor man is just tired of her. "You're neigh to be expelled from this school, that goes the same for Mr Boldman, Mr Freeman and Miss Gregory."

My eyes enlarge in shock. "Sir, if you can give them just one last chance, just one-"

The dean slowly shakes his head with sympathy in his amber eyes and clicks his tongue. His familiar skeleton-like fingers raise to smooth his metallic gelled hair.
"You will tire of them, Mr Hawk. Eventually, with time. I'm afraid when that time comes it will be far too late and you'll be-"

Dead, my thoughts whisper.

"-in terrible trouble," the dean finishes, blinking.

An indecipherable flash of emotion bores into Passion's face before she gazes at the raging fire at the corner of this room.

"Let's keep in check the usual curfew, shall we? Does anybody know when it is?"

"Whenever it is, it's for babies," Collen huffs.

Drae inaccurately answers, "22:00 PM."

"I meant the school's usual curfew, not yours, Mr Boldman," Henry says glaring at Drae. His long fingers dip into the outside pocket of his silver suit jacket, and pull out a dangling star key. All the while his glare never drifts away from us.