Young Blood

Chapter Twelve

I was stone cold, at a loss for emotions. I didn’t smile or grimace, barely even blinking as I walked patiently into the principal’s office. My stomach was twisted in knots, and I couldn’t help but feel like my brain was mixed up, too. Everything hurt with a burning sensation, and yet I tried to shove it all aside as I sat down and was met face-to-face with our school’s headmaster, Mr. Wilson.

  “Hello, George,” his deep voice forced small-chat with me, preparing for when he would attack. All teachers and adult figures were like that. Before you got in trouble, they would force the most simple, boring chat they could. It was like they were showing you the clam before the storm. “How is everything?”

  “Not too bad, sir.”

  “Ah, that’s good.” He flashed his grin for a brief moment, his sharp canines showing how fierce he really was. No wonder everyone was afraid of him; the man looked like a vampire.

  “How was your weekend, sir?” I asked. I didn’t give a flying fuck about how his weekend really went, but I knew that adults appreciated at least acting like you cared about them. He would surely see through my obvious lies, but I thought giving being nice a try couldn’t hurt.

  “Not too bad myself.” Another menacing grin. “I have a question for you, actually. Well, not as much of a question as it is information, but over all, I have things to tell you. Important things, actually.”

  I raised an eyebrow. Important? Was the fact that Ritchie and I were queer for each other and caught in a forbidden love important to him?

  “Er, well, I’ve heard you’ve been getting picked on.”

  My eyes widened. So this wasn’t about Ritchie?

  “Is this true?”

  “Uhm, well, to what extent are you talking about?”

  “I’ve heard from a certain student that people are giving you a hard time because of your sexuality.”

  “My sexuality?”

“I’ve heard that some students were talking behind your back as well as shoving you in the hallways. I’ve also heard from a student that Professor Starkey has been especially helpful in making sure you don’t get picked on.”

  When the fuck was this happening? “Yes sir.”

  “I just wanted to let you know that we’re trying our best to make sure it doesn’t happen again. You are free to go back to class now.”

  “Can I ask something before I go?”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “Who exactly told you this information?”

  “Uhm, that’s classified, Mr. Harrison.”

  “Why?”

  “Er… what?”

  “Why? Why is it classified? Do you think I’m going to bully them?”

“No, you’re a very good student, Mr. Harrison. I wouldn’t expect you to do something like that.”

  “Then why can’t I know?”

  Mr. Wilson sighed. “Fine. I can’t tell you everything, but I can say that he’s in your English class. Now back to your classes, Mr. Harrison.”

  I flashed Mr. Wilson a half-smile and then was out the door, heading back to class. It was the middle of the second-to-last class of the day, so I wasn’t all that upset about getting back to class. That meant I would see Ritchie. But it also meant I could figure out who exactly it was who falsely told Mr. Wilson that I was being bullied.