Separated: 5SOS BSM

66. You Get Suspended/Expelled - Ashton

Part 2/4
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Requested by:
@HeyImEmily12

*WARNINGS*
Mentions of:
• Foul language
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Okay, I'm trying to do two expulsions and two suspensions. (I already know what Michael's is gonna be so enjoy imaging yourself getting expelled twice in a row?)

Ashton:
Little things add up. Lies, fights, and poor grades all snowballed. Now you were sitting in a hard plastic chair in the office, something you had done countless times before, but you never would again. Your snowball turned into an avalanche, and you were about to get buried.

When it wasn't your assistant principal, but the principal of the school that called you down, you knew. You knew that all of your referrals, detentions, and suspensions had added up. You knew your permanent record was probably a mile long. You knew that when he motioned for you to sit on one of the chairs to wait for Ashton, that there was no going back.

So how did this all happen? You watched your legs swing back and forth as you took in a deep breath. How did you end up here?

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"Who are you?" A snobbish looking girl asked when you walked into your first hour for the first time. Welcome to high school, that was the most polite greeting you got.

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You walked through the line to get your lunch for the day. You were jostled and pushed around by the much taller, much scarier students. You made it through, not really getting anything appetizing in the process. Runny tomato soup, burned grilled cheese, and a sad looking apple. Great, you were enjoying the Irwin life already. Once you had paid for the disgusting food you took in a deep breath. This was your moment of truth, you needed to find some people to sit with. That's how you could find friends. You were optimistic too, in your last school you were fairly well-liked. How much different could it be here?

"This seat is taken," you backed away from a table of art students.

"Go away," no sitting with the jocks.

"Sorry," a nerd said, not looking all that apologetic.

"Nobody wants you here," the stoners didn't even give you a place to sit.

You bit your lip and turned away, still holding your tray. Well the only table left was the popular table, and you knew that that wasn't a good idea. Walking toward the exit you tried to leave to go find the library or something when an arm popped out of nowhere. A slim, tan, arm that belonged to the girl who didn't like you in homeroom. You watched as that arm expertly went under your tray and pushed up. Your food splattered all over you.

The cafeteria was silent. All eyes on you.

You felt tears burning in your eyes as you turned and ran out. They started laughing, and you knew that it would forever echo in your ears.

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You made it all the way to the bathroom before breaking down. You gripped the sides of the sink and stared into the mirror. What had you done? What was so wrong with you?

"I'm a freak," you said, staring yourself in the eye.

A toilet flushed behind you. You stiffened, frozen in horror as a girl walked out. She had royal blue hair, pulled back into two loose braids going down her head. She was wearing all black clothes, black skinny jeans, black converse boots, and a black muscle shirt under a black jacket. Her makeup was just as harsh, and after she washed her hands she pulled out some eyeliner to fix a smudge. But she acted like she didn't even see you, which was both a blessing and a curse.