Love, Kayla

L O V E, K A Y L A

"So.." Started Mr. Williams, the school principal, as he repeatedly tapped the cap of his pen on the silken, wooden desk.

Brenton looked at him with droopy eyes. He slumped tiredly on the comfortable leather chair as he crossed his arms on his chest. Him, being in office, was apparently not new to him anymore.

"I'm not surprised why I'm here." Brenton said in his deep, husky voice but in a bored manner.

Mr. Williams heaved an exasperated sigh. He was exhausted of Brenton's regular 'callings' to his office. "Mr. Abrams, what am I going to do with you? How many times do I have to tell you to stop with these useless fights?"

"Hmm.. If I could remember, this is the 12th time this month." He shrugged as he stared at his face with no absolute care. "And guess what? I highly suggest that you won't give a fuck in what I do so that you won't keep seeing my face, alright?"

Mr. Williams narrowed his eyes at the disgraced student as he continued, "Won't give a fuck, eh?" He slowly repeated, irritation was rising in his voice. "Maybe I definitely should not give a fuck. But hear me child, let's see who won't give a fuck when I tell you that you can't graduate this year." He smirked at the knowing man.

Just this once, Brenton tensed at the sudden dreadful news he just received. "Stop playing pranks on me old man. April
ended months ago." He replied, trying to control the horror and irritation feeling inside him.

"Yes, Mr. Abrams. I'm not playing pranks with you." He stated in all seriousness. "If you don't stop with all these bloody fights, your jerky attitude, and even your barely passing grades, then I'm sorry to inform you Mr. Abrams that the possibility of you not climbing on stage is high."

Brenton gritted his teeth in pure anger and irritation. "You heartless motherfucker." He snapped as he clenched his knuckles.

"And I'm the heartless one here?" He replied playfully, as he raised both hands in surrender then clasped both of his palms. He narrowed his eyes at Brenton, his figure becoming serious in a mere second as he straightened his back. "I'm giving you a chance, Mr. Abrams. All you need to do is change then you can put that ass of yours on stage this graduation."

"And what do I need to change?" He questioned as he exhausted a frustrated sigh. He ran his one hand through his hair, trying to cool down his boiling temper.

"Like I said earlier: No more fist fights, No more heartless personality, and improve your almost-failing grades." He stated. "Just do those three things, Mr. Abrams and I won't have anymore problem with you."

"And how long do I need to keep this up for?"

"Until graduation, Mr. Abrams."

Brenton coughed. "You're not serious, are you?"

"Do I look like I'm playing games, Mr. Abrams?" He stated as his lips formed into a frown. Brenton looked at his eyes and realized that this wasn't a joke. He was flippin' dead serious about this.

Brenton coughed nervously at his statement. "Will try, Mr. Williams.."

"Not try, Mr. Abrams. It is a must." He rubbed his hands as he clasped them together. "It is either you graduate or not. Your choice, Mr. Abrams." He said. "Now go. You are dismissed." He said in finality.

Brenton nodded at him and swiftly went out of the office. He walked his way towards his designated classroom and sat on his seat. It was inevitable to not notice the heavy stares around him. They couldn't help it. He had a bad reputation in school.

But Brenton was too distracted in his thoughts to pay attention to the heavy stares and glares around him. He was too worried to think about anything else except what happened earlier in the principal's office and the words that Mr. Williams said to him.

"I'm giving you a chance, Mr. Abrams. All you need to do is change then you can put that ass of yours on stage this graduation."

Change? He snorted at the thought. It should be a piece of cake to him.

Or that's what he thought.

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