Foreign Love

XVIII - Consequences

Chapter 18: Consequences

Tik-tok, tik-tok... Machado de Assis once stated in one of his short stories that the sound of the clock haunted him. I honestly think he was overreacting a bit, but, to a certain extent, he wasn't so wrong about the annoying nature of tik-tok. When it is the only sound being made in a room, it can be quite disturbing. And that's how I found myself in the principal's office.

"I think you all know why you're here, right?" Principal Rodgers's voice was firm and his facial expressions showed no contentment for our behavior whatsoever.

"We do." We all answered at the same time. Rodgers nodded.

"Um." That curt interjection of satisfaction finally broke the monotony of guilt that was so present in that room. "And I also suppose you all know that you deserve to be here, right?"

The principal looked at Andrew, who replied in a timid, yet firm, "No."

He raised an eyebrow, definitely not satisfied. He then looked at Mylène, who denied, ever so politely, "Absolutely not."

Finally, he looked at me, hoping to get an answer that would please him. Not today, Satan. "Not at all."

He sat back on his chair, inspecting each one of us. Andrew was seemingly nervous; he, who had always been the good boy, wasn't used to being called to the principal's office. Mylène was the complete opposite. Although she'd never been called there too, — at least not that I know of — she showed no signs of nervousness, but instead a pose and certainty that could only be matched to an English lady's one, if not to the Queen herself.

I, on the other hand, was a mix of both. I wasn't showing my nervousness, but I was definitely nervous and I couldn't keep my pose as well as Mylène did, but I was sure of my thoughts. I didn't deserve to be there, not when I was the victim.

"Well, ladies go first, right?" The principal said, with a smirk. "Ms. Bontour, in the hallway you showed a behavior and, especially, a vocabulary that is most definitely not appropriate for your position in our school and I am sure you won't disagree with me on that."

Mylène smiled and straightened herself on her seat, keeping, once again, her lady-like pose, "Remind me again, Principal Rodgers, what my position in this school is, please."

Rodgers blinked in confusion and his shoulders dropped slightly. He certainly wasn't expecting that reply. Then, with another blink, he swallowed a dry and answered her. "President of the student body, of course."

"Yes, very well said. The student body, and, in the hallway, I was doing no more than defending the integrity of our school. Andrew was bothering Thomas, who had asked him more than once to stop, to which Andrew didn't obey and kept on harassing the other student. If I hadn't interfered, God only knows what could've happened. They could've fought and someone could've whined up getting hurt. I don't see how any other representative of a school, especially the president of the student body, would've reacted to it any differently. Sure, the means I used to get there were at the very least incompatible with social etiquette, but I did succeed in my task: I have secured the physical integrity of both students."

Her eyes quickly moved from Rodgers to something on his bookshelf, I followed her gaze as she proceeded with her defense, something about swearing. On the bookshelf, a copy of The Prince, by Machiavelli. My attention was caught again by her final words. "After all, the end justifies the means, doesn't it?"

Principal Rodgers held back a smile. "You're dismissed, Ms. Bontour. You may now go back to your classroom. And may I not hear anything like today from you again, else I'll be forced to call on extraordinary elections for the student body."