I'll Never Call You Maestro

I'll Never Call This Chapter 8

With an unsettling churning in his gut, the Italian took to the principal's office. He traveled down a few flights of stairs till he reached the first floor. Many of his fellow peers were lingering in packs by sets of lockers and and lounging against walls by the exits. Most of them he did not recognize, but a few caught his eye. Elizabeta walked beside a taller, sophisticated looking lad with ebony hair and striking violet eyes behind lenses, he had a sort of pout on his face that would have distilled anyone who was nearby, but Elizabeta just laughed and continued to chat with him like he was telling a joke. They looked close, and not just in the physical sense. Romano wondered why anyone would want to spend time with such a sour puss, but hey, it's got nothing to do with him.

He oggled a few more of the students till his eyes discovered Francis, disgusting curls and all. He had an arm extended and pressed to a locker where he was blocking a frail and sensitive freshman. Romano quickly overted his gaze and sneered. That guy is desperate as hell. Does he have no shame? It sickened him the obsession to get into someone's pants that was the paradigm of his generation. At least Romano had some control when it came to those sorts of things. A couple of Play Boy magazines and he was good. Not that he didn't think about it less than any other seventeen year old did. He had a young, healthy body and it wasn't going to stay that way forever. Once, he had thought he wanted to go all the way with his girlfriend, but she broke it off before they could get that far. She said he was too insensitive and had serious daddy issues. He decided she was a bitch and never gave her reasons an after thought.

See, letting someone in can be scary. You'll never know what their reaction will be once they meet the real you. They could end up hating you, and in worst cases, abandoning you. Romano wouldn't go through with that, he wouldn't let that happen unless he had no control over it. So keeping to himself it was then.

Romano had been too busy lost in his thoughts to notice the many teachers who were watching him. Their stares burned at the back of his neck; so many scolding eyes on him. He smiled halfheartedly and gave a nervous wave as he passed by. This was getting very uncomfortable. More anxious than ever to reach the office, Romano speed-walked all the way there. His heart gave a cry when he pushed the door to the office open and slipped in. He placed a shakey hand on the wall, trying to breath in evenly.

"Sit down, boy."

The elder Vargas spun around and the air became trapped in his throat, blood pumping to his face and arms. He dropped his bag. A mixture of red and a sickening pale color tainted his features. Behind the main desk decorated with picture frames and ordained in little trinkets teachers would pile their work spaces with, sat Principal Gerhart. He was stoic, strongly built with blonde hair that seperated into two braids and gave Romano a stone cold look that would have chilled him to the bone if his fixation wasn't elsewhere.

Romano squeezed his fist till his knuckles were a fiery white and stomped over to Gerhart's right, shoving an accusational finger in front of him. "What the hell are you doing here?!" And of course by now we all know who he is talking about.

Antonio cocked his head ever so innocently. It only gave Romano more of a reason to shout. "Principal Gerhart, what is going on here?" What is this malarkey, why is Antonio here? I didn't want to see this bastard's stupid face again and now here he is right in front of me! Oh this had better be a joke!

"You've been called here for a student-teacher conference. Now sit down. I won't ask you a third time." The Principal tapped his fingers on his desk irritably, and pointed to the lone seat by Antonio with his eyes. Romano's own eyes went arctic and he muttered a vaffanculo under his breath, but complied. He sat reluctantly with his head turned away from the Spanish teacher, arms and legs crossed displaying obvious choler.

Gerhart cracked his knuckles before speaking. "Your grades in Mr. Fernández Carriedo's class are nothing short of unspeakable. Do you think this school is being payed to entertain future deadbeats?" Romano did not reply, it wasn't worth his time. But apparently Gerhart asked a question and he wanted an answer too. "Did I stutter? I expect you to answer when you are questioned."

"No, sir." Romano grumbled.

Gerhart continued as if he didn't detect the disrespect in Romano's tone or chose to ignore it. "That's what I thought. It's good to see that we agree on something. Now, Mr. Vargas, you are already a month into school and you're failing tremendously in your second language. Have you anything to say on the matter?" A smirk played on his lips, but changed to a sneer when Romano stood up and actually turned to Antonio; Antonio's brows rose to the top of his forehead in surprise. The tsundere's ahoge spiked like a lightening bolt, little puffs of steam floating above his head.

"He's the culprit here! I can ace any Spanish class so long as I don't have to listen to him." Romano spat feverishly. Antonio made a face. Do you feel it, bastard? Do you?

"Sit down, Vargas!" Gerhart slammed an angry fist on his desk and Romano flinched at the sight of the clenched hand, immediately falling back into his seat with a horrified expression. Antonio raised a hesitant hand, but quickly withdrew it as the principal started up again. "I reckoned you'd stir up trouble from the moment you set foot in this school. It runs in your blood. I knew Romulus from a very young age, always skipping out on his academics to go flirt and play with woman. You're just like your grandfather."

The atmosphere seemed to get thicker and the air heavier as both teachers stared at Romano, waiting for some sort of outburst. something came over him then.

"You don't know..." Romano was barely audible.

"You don't know who nonno is... you have no right to even speak about him!" Romano screamed. Tears were pushing past their boundaries, trying to escape like the rest of him. He covered his face with a hand and buried his head in his shoulder. He felt so naked, this wasn't suppose to happen. Two emotional break downs in one month? Why me why me why me why me-

He felt a firm hand squeeze his other shoulder, and he looked up to see Antonio smiling sympathetically. Why was he trying to comfort him? Romano squinted at him, snot running down his nose. Antonio's emerald gems were so full of warmth of compassion, Romano couldn't help but feel warm on the inside too. He flushed with embarrassment, but allowed Antonio's hand to stay there. Gerhart cleared his throat and the two snapped out of their little moment.

"Regardless, private tutoring must be arranged if you don't want to burden your parents with an unsatisfactory report card. Mr. Fernández Carriedo and I already discussed the potentials before your arrival. Mr. Vargas, you will accompany your teacher to his choice of study area every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday after school. You may not graduate the program until I see significant improvement. Clear your calander and be ready."

This has to be a joke.

A\N
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