Just as I Begin to Fade

Four. Broomstick

It was already lunch time when Gwen was rummaging through the halls of her high school, trying to visit the teachers from the first three classes she missed.

Since she had Lindsey for first and it was only putting things in order in the library, she didn't bother going to see him. But she did have to collect Biology, Geometry and English from the day before and for this day, when she got to U.S History, she'd receive from both days. She'd already seen the front office and much to her surprise, her mother called to clear her absences for both days even if she ditched the day before.

As she was heading into her English class, she noticed Mr. Buckingham with a couple of other teachers, but he didn't seem to be talking---he was listening intently as he seemed to do the day before.

Since his eyes were forward and on the ground, she tried to keep to herself because he was after all her case carrier and she was sure he had heard about her absences.

Catching sight of her memorable boots, he glanced up and noticed her trying to get into a locked classroom.

"Miss Jones," he said aloud, venturing off from his group.

Today he had a pair of reading glasses on, jeans and a regular, hazel green pull over thermal.

"Bucky," she grinned as though she wasn't trying to hide from him. "How ya been?"

"Where were you this morning?" he asked.

"Home," she shrugged. "I... overslept---I worked late and got home later."

He nodded, pursing his lips. "What about yesterday?"

"My mom picked me up early... You can call the front office---she cleared my absences... Call her and ask her if you don't believe me."

"I don't believe you."

"Then that makes two of us. But I did work late and get in late... I had some things to do this morning for my mom and it made me later."

"Like what?"

"You're nosey, aren't you?"

"I hear you have a reputation, kiddo. I'm just looking out for you."

"Believe me, my reputation has nothing to with why I was late today..." she actually smirked as she crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one leg.

He nodded. "Keep that jacket on or you'll get dress-coded for the thin straps and..." he glanced down at the rest of her attire and shook his head. "Come with me," he gestured.

"For what?" she dropped her arms to her sides as she followed him.

"You're gonna get written up for those shorts," he led her to the library where he pulled a flannel off the back of his chair. "Tie this around your waist."

"You're kidding, right?" she copped an attitude.

"Nope," he tossed it to her.

"Well, Mr. B., let me tell you something... Teachers rarely dress-code me---of all the schools I have been to, they stop giving a shit and I do what I want."

"Because they don't want to deal with you."

"No, because they don't care what I do."

"Because they don't want to deal with you."

She scoffed to herself, finding his audacity rather annoying. "Look, I got two classes left so unless you want to write me a note for being late, I'll be on my way," as she put the plaid fabric around her hips. "Anything else I can do for you?"