The Kids Aren't Alright

-5-

Things really started to change on Tuesday morning. Dallon walked into his class, dropping his books onto his desk and falling into the seat, completely exhausted from the insane amount of math homework from the night before.

The class should have gone ahead as planned. The teacher should have shown up, demanding that her students show their completed homework and then gone into a long and boring lecture on Pythagoras Theorem, a skill Dallon was sure that he would never need in life.

But his math teacher was ten minutes late, and the class was going ballistic while there was nobody there to tell them off. Paper was flying around the room at record speeds, people were standing on desks and screaming. Three kids were loudly counting down until the period became a spare, ready to run out the door the instant the fifteen minutes ticked over.

Dallon just kept to himself, swatting away stray hands making a grab at his belongings.

But when Mrs Muntz finally showed up, she looked concerned. The worrying part was the principal who walked in behind her.

Suddenly everything was silent.

"Dallon Weekes, I'm gonna need you to come with me." He stated firmly. Every single set of eyes was on the lanky teenager now. His hands shook as he grabbed his bag and followed them out of the room.

He hadn't done anything wrong. He followed every single rule because he never, ever wanted to be in a situation like this.

The principal lead him to his office, where two other boys and the sheriff were. He recognized one of them as the boy from the conversion center the other day, Gerard. The other was sitting still in his chair, one hand tugging on his lip ring as he stared at the floor, not even looking up upon Dallon's entry to the office.

"Ah, Dallon is it?" The man asked gruffly, gesturing for him to sit. Dallon nodded, his body trembling from the fear of what was about to happen. He sat in the third chair, holding his backpack closely to his chest.

"What's going on?"

"It has been bought to my attention that the local clinic was grafitied last night." The sheriff stated firmly, glaring at all three of the boys before him. "You three were the only teenagers on the premises. So which one of you was it?"

Dallon knew he was off the hook now. It wasn't him, that much was blatantly obvious. If he had of done it, his mother would have flipped out and probably disowned him or something equally as bad.

Suddenly the sheriff was on his feet, walking quickly and following the principal out of the room.

"Where's he going?" Dallon asked aloud, eyebrows creased in concern.

"Who knows." Gerard shrugs. "Better question is, who's taking the blame?" He eyes Dallon  carefully.

"Did you do it?" Dallon asks harshly, not liking where this was headed.

"I did." The boy with the lip ring murmured. "I should just own up and deal with whatever they throw at me."

Dallon wanted to agree with him, but Gerard spoke quickly and harshly. "No Frank, you're not getting more shit from that bastard. I don't give a flying fuck if you did it or not, but I'm not letting that happen."

The new boy, Frank, looked up sharply. "Gerard, you're already going through hell in that place. Who knows what your parents will do?"

"I'm confused." Dallon sighed, running his hand through his hair.

Gerard rolled his eyes, turning to the tall boy. "I'm Gerard, that's Frank. We're dating. Frank grafited your mum's work because it's a fucking stupid place."

"Agreed." Dallon nodded quietly.

"Frank's not taking the blame because if he does his home life will getinfinitely worse, and I'm not letting that happen. He doesn't want me to take the blame because I'm already going to the conversion center and things might get worse. Are we all up to speed?" He snapped, glaring at Dallon and then his own hands as the sherrif re-entered the room.

"Right, look boys, I don't really have time for a lengthy talk about who did what. If one of you owns up now you'll just get a detention and have to paint over what you wrote." He groans, looking positively done with the day already.

A moment of silence hangs over them, weighing heavily and not letting up. It was uncomfortable, the feeling of the older mans accusing glare burning into your head. It felt like nobody was ever going to break the trance.

"I did it." Dallon blurts, looking up suddenly. "It was me, and I'm sorry."

I drafted out pretty much the entire book wow I feel accomplished.

Tbh i really don't have the time to be writing chapters rn. it's the middle of the school year over here in australia, and exams are literally a week away and homework levels are insane. But this is so much more fun, so here you go!

-Saffron