I Don't Know What to Do, Mr. Iglesias *A Mr. Iglesias fanfic*

Counseled Out?!

After that moment, I went to my locker to get the last of my stuff out of it before summer starts. When I got to my locker, which is next to Marisol's, I saw a folded piece of paper on the door to my locker. I grabbed it, being careful not to rip it. I carefully opened it, anxious to know what it in it, though I have an idea what it is. Paula told me about Mr. Hernandez 'counseling out' students. I just never thought I'd be one of them.

 I don't understand it. I've gone to all of my classes, I do all of my work, and I've never been in trouble. Why am I being expelled? I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. I turned away from my locker and slid down the wall. I felt the tears flowing, so I buried my face in my sleeve-covered hands. There's no way I'll survive at CCC or at home. I'd be dead within the first week. 

I felt Marisol coming, so I tried to hide the fact that I was crying. She noticed that I was. "What happened, Violet?" she asked me. I showed her the letter. "There's one on your locker too." I signed. She practically ripped it off her locker. As she was reading it, making sure she were going crazy, Mr. Iglesias walked up to us. "Hey, there they are. Always reading something." Mr. Iglesias stated, talking about Marisol and myself. "Yeah, our obituaries." Marisol stated, telling him what we were both thinking and showing him her letter. I showed him mine, and he took them both, sighing. "No way. Oh, they've gone too far now. You're not just my best students, you're my favorite students." Mr. Iglesias stated. "We know you say that to all of us." Marisol said as I signed it. "Yeah, I know, but when I'm talking to you two, I'm not lying." Mr. Iglesias stated, causing me to give a small smile. "Letter says it's 'cause of attendance. I kinda missed some afternoon classes." Marisol explained to him about hers. "Like how many?" Mr. Iglesias asked her. "Like all of them." she admits, not proud of it. "I work to help my family, but I did all of the assignments." Marisol explained. 

"What about you?" he asked me. "I don't know. I didn't read further than 'counseled out'." I signed. I couldn't read further than that because tears had blocked my vision. He read through my letter. "It says that it was due to theft. That you stole a guitar from the music department." Mr. Iglesias read. "That's total bullshit! I've never stolen anything from the school! Someone's putting the blame on me because I don't speak. Fan-fucking-tastic." I started signing, going into a tangent before Mr. Iglesias stopped me. "What did she say?" He asked Marisol. She'd been watching my hands the entire time. "Putting it shortly, and cleanly, she's being blamed for something she didn't do." She explained. Mr. Iglesias shook his head, sighing again. "I'm gonna take this to somebody who can fix it." Mr. Iglesias stated.  "Oh, my God, are you gonna have Hernandez jumped?" Marisol asked, being totally serious, even seeming to get a little excited. I couldn't help but lightly chuckle. "No, but I like your idea much better." Mr. Iglesias replied. I looked to the floor, scared of what's to come. "Come here." Mr. Iglesias told me, opening his arms for a hug. I walked over to him, wrapping my arms around the fluff ball. "Can I come with you?" I whispered in his ear. "Of course." He replied.