hostile//fillie

chapter thirty-one.

  a/n: real quick- you guys are what keeps me writing. you guys are what allows me to feel happy. thank you for everything. i truly love each and every one of you so so much. thank you for 20k, I'm literally in tears.

   hope you enjoy the chap! (sorry for typos!)

   **finn's pov**

   The fan leaning against the hardwood surface of the wooden desk creaks with each swift rotation of the blades, as I nervously swallow the saliva overflow in my mouth, the door of the main office latching closed behind us.

     This is probably about my recent attendance.

    Or something else bad that I don't even want to cross my mind.

  I can feel it in my gut.

  Does this have anything to do with my shitty parents?

  Probably not in all honesty, considering they couldn't give less of a shit about my whereabouts.

  "Have a seat, Finn." Hopper instructs softly, pointing his finger towards one of the two cushioned chairs directly parallel to the desk, as my breath discreetly hitches into my throat.

    My bottom dips into the grey colored fabric, as he swoops around to sit down into his own chair behind the desk, a very serious expression plastered onto his face.

     "So, how are you today, son?" He stirs up a conversation, before quickly multi-tasking, slithering his fingers towards the keyboard underneath the computer monitor, logging onto it, as the unspoken tension just very slightly eases up.

     Oh, you don't care.

  Just cut to the chase.

    "I'm just peachy...can I please ask you why I'm even down here?" I can help but sound anxious by the way I asked, as he abruptly grazes his fingers against the brown scruff on his face.

    "Finn, I happened to come across your attendance records just this morning. I need to know why you've missed five days in a row without an excused absence. No doctor's note, no call in...what's been going on?" He disregards my not-so kind approach, as I fidget nervously by tapping my long fingers against the hard black arms of the chair, searching my brain for a logical excuse that wouldn't cause suspicion.

  There's almost two weeks left until summer break.

  Who cares if I miss five days?

    "O-Oh, that...yeah, I had a really bad flu. My mom meant to call in for me, but she's been...busy." I nervously excuse my absence like an imbecile, intimidated by the fact that I'm even down here in the office being questioned, as his eyebrows vaguely furrow together, before he then tightens his black tie to his matching suit.

       "Busy doing what?" Interest presents itself in his prominence, as I bite the inside of my cheek, breaking our eye-contact by staring at the little crinkles formed at the bottom of my white t-shirt.

   Shit.

  What do I say?

   Yeah, Hopper, she's been pretty busy drinking her ass off and fighting with my dad.

   "Work." I retort nonchalantly, not moving my eyes away from glancing anywhere besides into his eyes, as his postured stance slouches further down into his seat through my peripheral vision.