Social Casualty

Chapter 19

I fidget a little in my sit, my gaze trained on my father's spotless dress shoes, as he paces around his office, talking through his phone with god knows who. Eventhough he's been acting in a calm and compposed way, I know that he is, not just mad at me, but extremelly pissed off with my existance. But what can I possibly do about it right now? Getting caught was certainly not in my agenda, and now that I did, I can't stop thinking how stupid I was to think I'd be able to finish everything without suffering consequences.

"Yes, we understand." I hear my father say in his polite voice, reserved only for a few factors in his life, like business and, most of the time, me. "Very well, then" he states, putting down the phone and sitting behind his expensive desk. I study it for a few seconds, wondering how can a desk made of glass be of any use. How does it not shatter everytime someone puts something heavy over it. And how is it so shiny and clean? Just like his shoes and most of his life, my father's desk is spotless. I hear him sighing tiredly, and I look up at him tentatively. He slumps slightly over his desk, rubbing his face with his hand, the gesture he always makes when something is troubling him. Soon enough, he is back to his assertive, compposed nature, and I am again unable to read his emotions. I hate the fact that he always acts like this, making me feel as if somehow he locked me outside in the cold. My father makes eye contact with me, studying me intensivily, probably thinking what to do next with me. I want to feel bad with myself for having caused him such trouble, to the point where he flew all the way to Florida just to pick me up and take me with him to Atlanta, to try and figure a way for me not to get expelled from school. But I can't feel bad about it. In fact, I can barely feel anything at all, except maybe relief for Gale, who was able to escape before the police found him 'vandalizing' the school.

Gale and I were in the middle of what was supposed to be our last mission, when we heard sirens, meaning the cops were arriving. We finished doing our graffiti and getting everything in place, and I immediatly ran towards one of the lockers, hiding inside it, when I realized Gale had nowhere to hide. he wouldn't get a chance to run, and he was to big to fit inside a locker, like I had just done. that's when I realized that I couldn't let Gale get caught and suffer because of my own stupidity, I'd never be able to deal with myself knowing that he had gotten expelled and probably deported back to Australia, he's actual country, just because he was trying to back me up, like he's been doing all this time. So I did what was probably a suicidal move for me, but would most likely save Gale's ass: I got out of my hide out and ran away, making sure to make as much noise as possible, therefore distracting the police and allowing Gale to leave without being seen. Needless to say, I got caught, and spent the night in the police station, behind the bars, until my father arrived on the dawn of the next day. When I first saw him, I have to admit, I was utterly impressed with the fact that he actually came for me, instead of Effie or another one of his lackeys. But that feeling almost immediatly faded when I saw the expression he was wearing. A mixture between extreme annoyance, tiredness and disbelief. We didn't talk much after that, and I pointedly made sure I had my earbuds on, with the music blasting as loud as possible. We just flew back to Atlanta and arrived last night.

"It was your school's principal." my father says coldly "You're suspended for the time being, while they try to figure out what to do next. Hopefully, you won't be expelled." he states.

"What if I am?" I ask him, a certain defiance in my voice that I can't really simmer down.

"We'll make sure you won't." he says. "Certainly, if you apolagize and show them how sorry you are, they will forgive you."

"But I don't feel sorry." I state neutrally.

My father's fist hits the table with such intensity that I flinch in my chair, exalted for his sudden change in demeanor.