Chapter 3: Finally

Cindy and I stared at the door while the secretary stared at us. The footsteps behind us stopped. A fast beat, happy song came on the radio and matched my heart rate. A bead of sweat tickled my cheek.

“Well, go in,” the secretary said and pointed to the door. Only light emerged from between the door crack. The plant in the corner rustled in the air conditioner while the radio song switched to a love song. My knuckles hurt from holding the chair arms too tight. Why the fuck did I even care about Brad? He acts like a dog and not worth the effort. And why did I help Cindy, she didn’t need me to fight her battles, she’s a bad ass. Will he expel us? Shit, my healing level means I wouldn’t last a week in the war. Or would they deem me as too standard and send me to a standard school? I wouldn’t survive a day in that hellhole.

“In,” the secretary said. We bolted to the door. I arrived first, flung it open, and grabbed the first seat I saw in the room while Cindy took the seat to my right. I stared at the deep brown carpet and the shiny silver legs of the principal’s desk. The door behind us closed with a creak and a click. I clenched my hands in my lap while I inhaled sweat, metallic, copper, and a mixed floral potpourri.

No one spoke. I studied the leg of the desk. Streaks of soap swirled around the very bottom, just above the carpet. I could make out a dog’s face if you twisted sideways and pretended the smug appeared more like an ear than a finger.

“Look at me,” Principal Foam said. I raised my gaze and studied the thin man behind his large, dark brown desk. His bald head reflected the lights above him as if he had polished his head and positioned the lights to highlight the cleanliness. My heart jumped at the idea that he would check my vagina, and I would end up in that standard school where they would eat me alive, and not in the good way of getting eaten.

Principal Foam picked up a sheet of bright white paper and started to read it. A sleek silver computer lay half closed to his right, empty halls on the screen. Behind him, a personalized poster of him with the school motto, ‘Success, Understanding, Confidence, Kindness’, in red letters just above the silver belt buckle his picture wore. He had the same blue suit with red tie in the poster as he wore today. On the wall to the right was a framed doctoral certificate in art history from the University of Minnesota. The left wall had a palm-sized, gold-framed picture of the principal shaking hands with Leader Foam. Below that, a plain framed photo of a young man holding up an arm-sized fish, a family photo of six children of various ages, two adults, and one grandparent, the last photo contained Principal Foam in the blue suit holding the award that sat in the left corner of his desk. A palm-sized granite thin pyramid with two gold bands at the bottom, with ‘Educator of the Year’ embossed along the bottom. Two other leather chairs were pushed up against the right and left walls.