The Bad Boy's Heart: When Sparks Fly... (Editing)

...how to get your way

"Mr. Smith, the first day of school and you're already in my office!"

If y'all thieves would invest in proper doors, the fucking glass wouldn't have fallen off it!

Despite his resemblance to Lex Luthor, Mr. Prickleberry's intelligence left...much to be desired of. Not a great quality for a principal to lack.

After his statement, we both stared at each other in silence.

Eventually, he growled, "Well?"

"Well what, sir?"

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"No, why would I?"

"Because I was addressing you!"

"With a statement, not a question."

"You know that I meant for you to-you know what, never mind! Just...tell me why you decided to break that glass."

I shrugged. "Because I was angry."

"Because you were-Mr. Smith, you clearly do not grasp the severity of the situation you are in! That glass was very expensive-"

"When bought in bulk, but singularly it's not exactly going to run the school broke. I should know, after all, didn't my family provide the doors in this school when they refurbished it?"

Smirking, I ran my finger across the pieces of furniture around me. "Everything in this room, you have because of my family."

His mouth dropped agape. "Mr. Smith, h-how dare you try to threaten this school! Your parents were the ones who donated these, not you!"

I stiffened. "You're right, of course. Between you and me though, I've been the one sending in anonymous annual donations of $25,000-"

His eyeballs bulged. "What?"

Well, it technically has been Annie, but you don't need to know that.

I continued, "The 25,000 which I've noticed that you only seem to remember 5000 of when you're announcing it to the school. This is between the two of us for now, but that might change if I have to pay for glass my family donated in the first place."

After a moment of silence, he stuttered, "Are-are you threatening me, Mr. Smith?"

Chuckling, I leaned closer to him. "What do you think?"

At that point, his body was vibrating as he clenched his jaw.

Finally, he growled, "I see you've resumed with that infamous mouth of yours. Watch yourself. One of these days, your mouth is going to put you into serious trouble."

"Good to hear. Until then, I'm going to keep on talking. Anyways, I'm going back to class. Have a nice day, Mr. Prickleberry."

He didn't reply. Not even as I swiveled my chair around and got up. It was only when I got to the door that I heard him murmur, "Brickleberry."

I glanced at him. "What?"

"My name is Mr. Brickleberry!"

. . .

"Miss Delane spent the majority of the lesson bitching about how rude you are! It was epic! I mean, smashing the window to make a statement? Sick, dude!"

I didn't bother to correct Hans as I nodded at his praise. I was sitting on the field's stands with him and Andy, listening to them recount the story of my little spat with Miss Delane.

"And the part where he told her to shut up? That was- damn!"

Apparently not so 'damn' enough for me to remember it happening.