Playing The Player

:Chapter Eight:

If there's one quality I'm proud of, it's my stubbornness.

And if I had something to say about it, I was not going to let Principal Drinkwater win this staring contest.

I squinted my eyes, trying to stop the watering. I had always been proud of how long I could last staring without blinking, but right now, I was seriously considering that Principal Drinkwater was a robot. It was either that, or I was getting shabby with my staring.

He was definitely a robot.

Finally giving up, I sighed, lowering my eyes.

"So," the Principal said triumphantly, "You thought it would be a good idea to push another student off their chair. Tell me, how does that make sense?"

"It doesn't," I said hesitantly, "I didn't think it would hurt her."

"Well here's the thing, Miss Grace - it did. It resulted in her ankle being broken. Do you know how much trouble you have caused?" He glared at me.

I gaped, faltering under his harsh glare. Sure, she was crying. Sure, she was screaming. Sure, the ambulances had came. But I hadn't actually realised it was something so serious. I mean, this was Jenna Grey. Overreacting for attention came in the description. Immediately, shame ran through me, taunting me. Why had I even pushed her? Violence was so not the answer. I could've handled it so much better.

"I'm sorry, Sir," I mumbled, my cheeks flushing. "What I did was not only immature and wrong on my behalf, it also physically hurt another student."

To my surprise, Principal Drinkwater seemed to get even angrier. "Sorry doesn't cut it. You think saying sorry is going to make things better? You think sorry is going to somehow magically heal Miss Grey's ankle? You think saying sorry is going to stop Jenna's parents from cutting their funds they have coming to this school?!"

Oh. I saw what this was all about. He didn't actually care about Jenna's ankle; he was only worried that her parents were going to stop their school funding.

What a lovely, caring principal we had.

"No," He continued, "Sorry is definitely not going to cut it. Not only are you going to write a formal letter of apology to not only Jenna, but her parents as well, you are also going to be helping the cheerleaders during every practise for the next two weeks; however early, however late. You are going to cater to their every need, without a single complaint. "

I swallowed. "Every practise?"

"Every. Single. One." His eyes glittered maliciously. "And if for some reason you are unable to attend, you are to get a slip of paper, signed by your parent, stating that you are either too ill, or have an incredibly important prior engagement to attend. Without this slip, should you fail to attend, you will be on afternoon detention every afternoon for the rest of this term."

My heart sank horribly. Why did our school had to be stuck with a principal who thought rich parents were more important than fairness for the student?

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Now I would really appreciate it, Miss Grace, if you forced your violent, childish self out of my office." His voice was light, almost happy, and I shuddered as I caught sight of his angry, beetroot-purple face. Without hesitating, I bolted from the room.

"You have you help the fucking cheerleaders every time they practise for the next two weeks?" Courtney's face was disbelieving as she asked for a confirmation.