The Freak

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        Let's try this one last time." The Principle says as he links his fingers and leans forward on his large desk. "What exactly did you do to get in here?"

       I keep my arms crossed, and remain slouched into the musty smelling upholstery of an old, and slightly worn out, arm chair. I'm not scowling...per say, just thinking.

It's always the same; I always end up in here one way or another. Every year at every school I end up becoming acquainted quite well with the Principle's office.

       “He had it coming…” I mumble under my breath. The Principle raises his bushy gray eyebrows.

       “What was that?”

       “I said he had it coming.” I say in a slightly irritated voice.

Principle Meyer leans back in his chair and looks at me with a warning eye.

       “Don’t take that tone with me young lady. Now explain why exactly he ‘had it coming’ as you so eloquently put it.”

I roll my eyes. I hate having to explain myself, why don’t they just punish me already? Or go talk to the victim.

       “Some people just deserved to be socked.” The Principle lets out a sigh and rubbed his forehead tiredly.

       “Enlighten me on why Brad Thomson deserved to be socked?” I uncross my arms and slam my fists down on the arms of the chair.

       “Because he kept beating up on some poor kid, I told a teacher about it but apparently they didn’t care!  So I warned Brad to leave him alone and when he didn’t I socked him!  So excuse me for wanting a little justice!” While I was yelling, I had risen from my chair and placed both palms on the heavy wood desk, delivering my words with emphatic blows to the desk top.

       Principle Meyer and I stare at each other, his eyes are unreadable, and mine will not back down. Finally, he slowly leans back in his chair, links his fingers, and barely nods towards the door.

       “You may go now Miss Trivette.”

I turn around and sling my heavy-duty backpack over one shoulder, shoving the door open with one hand and walking through. I don’t bother going to my next class, I know my science teacher has been informed of my “outburst” and won’t be expecting me.

       I walk through the empty halls, and make my way to my locker, spinning in the combination I pull open the long door and switch my books out with the ones required for my next class.

       People wonder why I carry my backpack around with me everywhere I go, I reply by just saying that I might need it someday.  I get weird looks, but hey, I’m used to being the freak. Miss antisocial-introverted-needs professional help Penelope Trivette. I prefer to be called just Penny.

       The bell rings shrilly, and I begin to push my way through the now crowded halls, trying to reach my classroom and gain a seat in the back. If I can just make it to spring break…

***

       “Miss Trivette!” The shrill cry snaps me back to the present, and I’m once again facing the strict, well put together woman that is Principle Taylor. If I thought middle school was bad, well, I never dreamed of the horrors that awaited me in high school.

“Would you mind explaining yourself?”

I like her the least of all my Principles, probably because she is my first woman Principle. Taking orders from a man is one thing, but I can’t stand being bossed around by another woman.

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