The Consequences (Read DESC!)

The Meeting (Part 2)

He looked at him for a moment longer. Was he gonna answer? Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. James watched as he looked away, like he was purposefully trying to ignore him.

"Can you... not hear me?" He asked, but like before, he didn't even make eye contact.

The blonde returned the cold shoulder and huffed. Usually they'd answer him back, except this time, he would not. James kept the bottom of his jaw up using his right palm, staring down at the tips of his shoes.

Despite being embarrassed, he was persistent on getting to know this other teenager.

Damien shrugged his shoulders a few seconds after James attempted to talk to him, his eyes trailing from the floor, to his shoes, and falling over his face. He waved a hand back, but the blonde boy wasn't looking. His mouth moved, but no sound came out.

Eventually, he looked away and put his draping arms over his knees. He wasn't necessarily the best talker, and there was a reason why...

Sometime after their awkward interaction, James was called to the front desk and was instructed to go through the hallway connected to this office. Damien watched from where he sat, staring at him from behind, and went back to looking elsewhere. He stood up and walked over to where James was sitting, and picked up one of the magazines he read, chuckling at the sight of an old commercial based around deodorant. Or a fashion show hosted by one of those idols who died not too long ago.

As he walked down the hallway, he noticed no a few doors passed him leading into seperate rooms for different purposes. One read 'meeting room' another would say 'break room', and so forth.

It took him 5 minutes until he reached the principle's office, turning the knob, welcomed by the presence of a man in his near 50s sitting in a big black chair which he recognised as high authority. As well as a small gold painted name card that read, "Mr. Bilos. Principle".

"Have a seat, James," The man gestured a hand to one of two regular looking chairs that sat in front of a brown table he sat behind. "We need to talk about your attendance."

James sat down on a black leather chair, and put his hands laced together above his lap. "Is it anything bad?" James questioned while Mr. Bilos nodded his head as an answer.

His rough hand reached into a small drawer within the brown table, and pulled out a sheet of James' attendance based yearly. It was a cover of question marks, or 'marked absent'. Rarely would he see a few presents, because he barely showed up.

The teen slid the paper with his hand towards him and took a look, a bit taken back by the results. He really was never at school that much... and that could involve truancy officers.

"Sheesh," he winced. "I didn't know it was that bad." James looked up at his principal and frowned. "I swear there were reasons, my parents just never got the chance to call you about me!"

"And... those reasons were?" He asked.
"I- uh, well..." James fumbled over words.
Mr. Bilos let out a quiet 'tsk, tsk, tsk...' and sighed. Pointing a weak finger, he shifted in his seat and leaned forward.

"You need to improve these markings, James. Otherwise you may get into much more trouble, and not from me either."

He simply looked away from the old man and also nodded, but it was very slowly, like he was also ashamed of his own choices. James mumbled, and Mr. Bilos simply watched. Understanding what went through his head.

"You're dismissed."

Damien continued to flip through the pages of the magazine, some missing and some ripped off, but it wasn't a big issue. It was silent and cozy, as well as some faint music playing from a small speaker on the top of the desk, which was interrupted by the hallway door opening and closing.

James had his head down as he walked out using the hallway, and made his way back inside the office. He hated being lectured or told off... even if that was just a warning for his own sake.

Walking through the room and advancing towards the office exit, leaving.

Unfortunately, he was hit by the roaring winds and breeze.

"It wasn't this cold before!"  He'd mumble to himself as his hands latched onto each arm, his bottom lip quivering like he was in Antarctica. James was gonna have to deal with it, though, if he'd wanna get back home.

After a while of breaking through the intense weather with a strong fist, James pushed through his front door and panted as his back slid down against it once he got inside. Never again would he leave the house, unless it was major.

He sluggishly walked over to his bedroom which was only a few doors down in the hallway to his right, and bellyflopped onto his mattress. James didn't realise how tired he was until he hit the covers, his eyes closed instantaneously.