Tutored By The Bad Boy

Chapter Sixty Eight: Expelled

Cameron's POV
"I got expelled." I spoke, looking into Sam's eyes.

As soon as the words slipped from my lips, everything became real. "What?!" Sam exclaimed, her face turning sheet white.

I gulped, my eyes not breaking contact with hers. "I... got.." I started again, but Sam's hand flew up as to silence me.

"I heard you!" She said. She sat down beside me in her bed, running her hands through her hair.

A tedious and annoying habit. Almost as bad as her sighing.

"How?" She asked, looking straight ahead. "Well..." I started, thinking back to where it all began.

-- Flashback --

The clock read 2:47 am as I added numbers written down on a yellow legal pad. I was on a call with Sam, balancing the phone between my left ear and shoulder as I scribbled down equations.

"Okay.. so that adds up to... one thousand, two hundred and eighty eight dollars." I said. "Not included all the fees you'd have to take away for transporting teams around. Plus food for the canteen and medals and trophies."

I heard Samantha typing quickly on her computer, emailing back and forth with the head of the basketball association, referee's around the state and different school boards trying to see who could attend.

That is, if we could convince them.

"Okay. Okay! So, everyone else agrees! Now we just have to run it by the head of the school board!" Sam exclaimed.

"I thought we already did that." I questioned, numbers still dancing around my head. "No, we ran it by the other school boards. Now we have to run it by ours!"

Even though I couldn't see her, I knew she was smiling.

"Okay, and who is the head of the school board?" I asked. "He is..." Sam spoke, trailing off as she clicked something. Probably another email I thought.

"Oh no." She groaned. "What?" I asked, my stomach flipping with anticipation. "Oh no!" She groaned again, audibly slamming her laptop shut.

"What?! What happened?!" I yelled, grabbing the phone with my right hand and bringing it out of the uncomfortable balance between my shoulder and left ear.

"It's the principal." She sighed. "I... I gotta go." She spoke again, hanging up the phone.

"Wait, Sam no!" I yelled, as the line went dead.

Suddenly, something came over me. Anger, fear, worry, something. I felt my feet carry me to my front door, then to my car, and then I drove.

My hands gripped the steering wheel as I drove the curving roads in the blackness of the night, adrenaline pumping in my body.

I felt my emotions navigate my route, taking me to our high school. My mind playing blurred scenes.

I was picking the front door lock. Then I was walking down the familiar hallways that I walked down just yesterday. Suddenly I was breaking a window with a chair.

Then I was pinning the principal to the wall, spewing curse words and threats.

Then there were sirens. I was yanked off the principal and handcuffed. My car was towed, my parents were called.

I was bailed out of that rusty jail cell in the towns police department for what felt the 20th time. I saw the same angry and disappointed look that my parents gave me.

Then I was back home, laying down on my bed. Wondering what the hell happened or what I did. The hours that passed between when I left to when I returned home slipped by in a matter of milliseconds.

Maybe it was true what they say. Criminals, sometimes, don't have full control of their actions. Emotions block judgement. Alcohol blocks common sense. Adrenaline blocks pain.

It's why sometimes, a man doesn't go down with one shot. Sometimes it takes several. Why sometimes, people trying to commit suicide jumping from 20 story buildings and don't suffer a single injury.

These events are beyond any medical knowledge. Why sometimes, criminals aren't bad people. Just people who feel more than everyone else. Even for a couple hours.

Then they are left, rotting in a jail cell, waiting till the day they'll see daylight, see their families. Come to term on why they did what they did.

And most of them will answer with the same 3 words. The same 3 words that people think mean nothing. That when they answer them with those 3 words, it's because they have no other excuse.

But, living the life I do, I understood. Beyond any other rule in life, I understood those words.

I have been called a criminal, a delinquent. Feared by people. Arrested. I was lucky I didn't serve jail time. Lucky that my family and friends still loved me.

Wondered why they did.

And when they asked me "Why'd you do it?", I'd look them in the eye, watch their tears fall down their face and tell them with complete honesty;

"Because I cared."

It depended on what I cared about then. Expressing myself, dumb laws, some other things that could possibly mean something to me for a split second of my life and drive me to the crimes and detentions that I had done and been given.

So, as I fell asleep that night, I promised when I told Sam what happened I'd tell her the truth.

-- FlashBack Over --

"Why'd you do it?" Sam asked, once I told her my story.

That question brought a slight chuckle and smirk to my mouth as I answered her, with complete honesty.

"Because I cared. I cared about you."

A/N
UPDATE!! Man, was this chapter sad, but kinda fun to write. This chapter helped me fall back into my book! I hoped you enjoyed it! (Even though it was sad)

I also want to update you guys on my update schedule. I'll try to get an update every few days, so it'll probably be every 4 days or 2-3 times a week. Depending on how much time I have with school, basketball, homework, reffing and everything else.

Anyway, hope you guys liked this chapter!

As always, don't forget to comment, favourite, and share this story with your friends! And follow us if you haven't already!

Loads of love,

Xoxo,

-Kat☄️