Academy Supernatural

Chapter 2

The next day as I walked through the school gates, I could see the janitors hard at work scrubbing away my artwork. I felt a little bad they had to be the ones to do it, many were quite nice, but what had to be done, had to be done. I'd say hello to them later and apologize for the extra work. It should be the educators cleaning that anyways, it was meant for them after all.

The first bell rang just as I entered my classroom, dropping into my chair with a deep sigh. My teacher gave me sour look, but I ignored him. If I wanted to be upset about having to waste have my day, I'd be upset. It was no disrespect towards them. It was simply my mood for the day. Well, for most days actually; and sighing was simply a side effect. I couldn't seem to remember a time when I was happy to come to school. Maybe when I was in preschool and all we had to do was color and sing the alphabet. Yeah, preschool was alright. I sighed thinking about it. When we had recess instead of gym and an actual lunch break with real food, not half frozen pizza from last week's leftover dinner, and when making friends didn't change what you looked like within school boarders. When a person thought about it, a lot changes in the time between preschool and high school. I couldn't help wondering why it had to change, why it had to be different...

Suddenly, a ruler was being slapped down on my desk. I blinked out of my downward spiral of thoughts and lifted my chin out of my palm to looked up at my teacher. He looked pissed. I smiled innocently. "Sorry?"

He rolled his eyes and turned away. "Please, pay attention in class, Mr. Rivera. I don't like to repeat myself," he said.

I waited until his back was to me before I mock shot myself, falling forward on my desk as I pretended to be dead. My classmates snickered and I grinned. My teacher turned back quickly, but I had already sat up and just blinked at him. He gripped his ruler tighter and narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

The rest of class and forward was depressingly uneventful and by the time lunchtime came around I was sighing dejectedly and wishing I had brought my paint. My friends seemed to notice and tried to cheer me up by being idiots with their food, but I just laughed and told them they were gross. They counted it as a win, I guess because a couple of them high-fived each other. I just rolled my eyes. "Whatever. I'm going to get some water," I said as I stood up. "You guys want anything?"

They said no so I dismissed myself with a shrug to walk to the vending machine in the corner of the cafeteria. I was just pulling my bottle out of the machine when I heard a few people walk up behind me. "Malcolm Rivera?"

I turned to frown at my English teacher and a few others. "That's me," I said.

They looked grave which was... worrisome. My English teacher was the first to speak. "We need you to come to the principal's office with us," she said.

Still frowning, I unscrewed my water and took a sip. "What's this about?"

"You'll find out soon, but we need you to come with us," one of the others said shortly. I had a bad feeling about this, but I shrugged and followed them out of the cafeteria towards the principal's office. The walk was short and brooding. No one said a word. When we were finally there, I was surprised to see my parents were there also. Odd... What was going on?

Once the door was closed and I was seated in front of the principal's desk, there was a silence. Then the principal sighed deeply. "Malcolm," he said as he pulled out a photograph. "We had reason to believe you were responsible for this." He set the photo in front of me.

It was a picture of my graffiti. I stared at if for five long seconds. Then I glanced at my parents. My mother had he arms crossed, expressionless, and my father was checking his watch. I turned back to the principal. He waited for me to answer and when I finally did, it came out a little cockier than I had intended. "Maybe."

The principal frown and tilted his head. "Malcolm, this is a yes or no answer, did you or did you not graffiti the side of the school yesterday?"

I sat back slowly, not meeting his eyes. "Yeah, so what?"

He glanced at my parents who seemed as disinterested as always, though maybe a bit more frustrated than usual. When he looked back at me, he looked stern. "If you could give your parents and I a moment to speak alone," he said, nodding towards the door.

I shrugged and stood up. "Sure. Go for it." I left the room and closed the door behind me with a sigh. Great. It would be just my luck my parents would ground me, the teachers would all hate me, and the next two years of my life would be a complete disaster. I dropped down in one of the waiting chairs and slumped into it, letting my hood fall into my eyes. This sucked.

My parents talked longer than I had expected them to. I listened to their voices from the other side of the door, but couldn't make out much. When they finally came out, they didn't look happy. "We're going home, Malcolm." My father was being short with me. That wasn't a good sign. We went out to the car outside and when my parents got in, they slammed their doors. Ouch.

The drive home was relatively short. My parents didn't say a word to me. Not even when we made it in the house. They just stood quietly in the entry way, glowering at me. Then my mother finally spoke. "I can't believe you," she said, running her hands through her hair.

I dropped my eyes. My dad crossed his arms. "Your mother and I need to talk. I want you to go to your room and stay there. Do you understand?"

This definitely meant I was grounded. "Dad-"

"Don't make me say it again, Malcolm."

I flinched at his voice and nodded. Hiking my backpack up on my shoulder, I climbed the stair slowly. I went into my room and closed the door silently. I really hoped this wasn't going to blow up in my face.

*******

"Excuse me, what?" I stood in front of my parents in the living with horror filling every fiber of my being. "Boarding school?"

My mother sat next to my dad on the sofa, her arms crossed. "You've been kicked out, Malcolm. Your principal told us that he couldn't give you any more chances," she said. "Apparently this isn't the first time you've decorated the school in such a crude way."

I gaped at her. "But boarding school? Mom, I can't go to boarding school," I said. A school full of stuck up, overly-grade-conscious, rich, spoiled, brats. That's what a boarding school meant. I would literally die there. "Please, there's got to be something else. Community service, repeating a grade, anything."

My dad frowned at me. "It's already been decided. The school has accepted you and you'll be flying there in the morning," he told me.

I shook my head, disbelieving. "You can't just ship me off."

It was like they didn't even hear me. "Go start packing, you'll need to be ready to leave for your flight at 7:00am." My mother stood up and left the room, my dad following close behind.

My hands clenched as I watched them disappear into another room, leaving me alone to my 'packing'. Then I shook my head. "I won't go!" I shouted angrily. "I won't! Just watch, I'll crawl back if I have to!"

*******

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