Chapter 5: Monday Morning Fireworks

The rest of the weekend passed fairly uneventfully. Lexi, as usual, left early on Saturday morning. She didn't wake me when she left. I rolled out of bed around eleven, ate breakfast, and then spent the next few hours cleaning up after the party. The afternoon was spent at the grocery store, stocking up for the week. Since I, for all intents and purposes, lived alone, I was responsible for keeping the fridge stocked, or I wouldn't be eating. Man cannot live on pizza delivery alone. After coming back from the supermarket and putting the groceries away, the rest of the night was wasted on Xbox Live.

Sunday was spent watching the Lions lose. Again.

Which brings us to Monday...

I strolled through the doors of Washington High at 7:15 and headed straight for my locker. Walking through the halls, I noticed there was a buzz of conversation happening. Something substantial had occurred, and since I didn't do anything of interest that I was aware of, I was pretty sure it wasn't about me this time.

I approached my locker, spun through the numbers of my combination, and opened it up. Unzipping my backpack and pulling out my books, I tossed my bag in and closed the locker. Turning, I walked across the hall to collect Paulina. Our lockers were right across from each other, so we walked to our first class together. I listened to her chatter on about her shitty hostess job for a while as we traversed the halls on our way to class.

As we turned the corner into the main hall that ran the length of the school, I heard the sound of clicking heels, and from the sounds of it, they were moving fast. I noticed the conversational din in the halls grind to a halt. Turning around, I saw Kara blazing a path through the halls, the crowd parting around her like the Red Sea. She walked right past me with out saying a word. Clearly I was not the subject of her attention this morning. Judging by her mood, I was thankful for that.

"I wonder what that was about." I said, thinking out loud.

"Didn't you hear?" she asked.

"Hear what?"

"Mark cheated on her Friday night." She said. "It's been circulating all morning. She got to the big party late and found him in one of the back rooms fucking..." She got that far before my subconscious woke up with a start and put two and two together.

"Samantha Courtland." I said, cutting her off.

She looked at me. "How'd you know? I though you hadn't heard."

"Something Sandra said to me Friday night." I proceeded to tell Paulina about the conversation I'd had with Sandra at the party.

"Wow." She said when I was finished. "What a whore."

"Indeed." I agreed, "A sentiment shared by her sister." I paused for a second. "Of course, now I feel kind of bad for insisting she come to our party."

Paulina rolled her eyes. "Boys are stupid."

"Yeah." I agreed.

"That includes you." She added.

"What? What did I do?'

"You said something stupid. It's not your fault Mark can't keep his dick in his pants for one night. It wasn't even a full night ... she showed up to the party."

Just then we heard someone suspiciously Kara-like shout, "Hey, slut!" followed by a scream. That was followed by more screaming, interrupted frequently by bouts of yelling. We both looked at each other and took off for the sound. When we rounded the corner, we saw a big crowd forming a circle. In the middle of the circle, Kara and Samantha Courtland in the middle of a drag down fight. We got there just in time to see them tumble down on top of each other, clawing and kicking.

I waited for someone to step in and do something, maybe an administrator or something. I like a catfight as much as the next guy, but the way the two of them were going at each other, someone was going to get seriously hurt. Since I actually did feel a smidgen of responsibility for what happened, I pushed my way through the crowd. Stepping into the middle of makeshift circle, I grabbed Kara around the waist and pulled her off of Samantha. Kara was still fighting, kicking away in Sam's direction even after I pulled her away. There was some boos when I did this, but now that they sensed the floor show was over the crowd dispersed pretty quickly. I had just set Kara down against the lockers, and was about to say something to her when the hall monitor, Mrs. Winters, finally arrived.

She took one look at the three of us there, and said, simply, "You three, my office. Let's go."

Well, shit.

I sat there in the office on a wooden bench up against the wall in the office. It was not comfortable. I was not comfortable. Kara was sitting next to me, holding an ice pack on the side of her face. Apparently Samantha had gotten in at least one good shot, and it had connected with Kara's cheekbone. Mrs. Winters had decided to talk to Samantha first, and they were in the office together at the moment, leaving the two of us alone.

"I'm sorry about what happened." I said to her, not looking at her.

"What are you sorry for?" she practically spat at me. "You didn't fuck my boyfriend."

"Christ, I hope not." I laughed. "I'm sorry for wasting your Friday night. It was stupid and arrogant of me to make you jump through hoops for me."

She looked at me like I was from another planet.

"You're apologizing for that? Don't bother." She illustrated the sentiment with a wave of her hand. "There are worse ways to spend a Friday night, I guess. I could have spent it with my stupid shit of a boyfriend."

"Yes, well. We probably wouldn't be here if you had." I suggested.

"I should have seen it coming. That bitch was awfully chummy whenever Mark would come by cheer practice."

"Ah." I said. She was taking this remarkably well. Besides, you know, the assault and battery.

"Why did this have to happen to me? And right before homecoming!" she lamented. "I'm going to be a laughing stock now." There we go. Now we're back in high school.

I probably should have thought for a second before I opened up my mouth. "I actually have a theory on that. Maybe I'll tell you some..." Before I could complete the sentence though, the door swung open and a battered, but smug looking Samantha walked out, breezed past us and left the office. She actually flipped her hair at us. " ... other time." I finished.

Mrs. Winters exited her office and took a look at the two of us sitting there.

"How is your face, Miss Pelfry?" the older woman asked, concerned, but not too concerned.

"The swelling is going down, I think. The ice is helping." Kara replied, a little sheepishly.

"That's good. Please have a seat in my office while I have a word with Mr. Capuzzo here." Mrs. Winters said. Kara gave me a look and a small smile, then got up off the bench and walked into the security office. Mrs. Winters looked down at me. "So. Mr. Capuzzo. Sounds like you were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Guess that depends on your perspective." I said. While most of the time I showed teachers and the like the respect they felt they deserved, as was my upbringing, I didn't necessarily feel they knew as much as they liked to think they did.

"Does it now?" she asked, dubiously. "Care to enlighten me?"

"Well, Kara was very, very angry." I said as I leaned back against the bench. "I think there's a very good possibility she would have hurt Sam. Or vice versa. You know how girls fight ... its all teeth and claws." I made a claws gesture with both hands. "Girls are mean. And crazy. I think a trip here trumps a trip to the hospital."

"I see." She said, digesting what I'd just said. "And I suppose you also have an opinion on how I should discipline Miss Pelfry for her attack on Miss Courtland? We do have a zero tolerance policy when it comes to fighting."

"Well, I'm not one to tell you how to do your job," I said, wondering how to word this. Kara probably shouldn't have gone after Sam like that, but who's to say I wouldn't have done the same thing in that situation. Emotions cloud rational thought more often that not. "But lets say, just for the sake of argument, that if someone was looking to, say, steal someone's boyfriend, they'd probably try to do it when said boyfriend's girlfriend wasn't around. And let's also say, again, just hypothetically, that that same someone was either not smart enough or not tactful enough not to talk about that very plan before hand."

"Are you saying that there was perhaps a mitigating circumstance, such as malicious intent?" she asked.

"I might be." I replied.

"And how confident are you about this ... intent?"

"Supremely." I responded. Sandra's tantrum on Friday night wasn't made up, and events had transpired that were too close to what she'd said to be coincidence.

"Thank you, Mr. Capuzzo. I will take your ... hypothetical suggestions under advisement. You can return to class. Get a pass from the secretary. And try to stay out of any conflicts like this in the future, hypothetical or otherwise." She walked back into her office. I'd love to, I thought to myself, but I had a nagging suspicion that this was just the tip of the iceberg.

The next two and a half hours of class passed uneventfully, after the events of the morning. When I strolled into the lunchroom, the masses were agog with conversation; there was no subtlety this day, and its subject was clear. At the jock table, Samantha Courtland had taken Kara's place at Mark's side. Granted, Kara had been sent home for her actions in the morning, but at least she could have let the body get cold first.

Samantha, for her part, looked like she was on top of the world. It looked like her push to be the new queen bee was going full steam ahead. Mark didn't look so quite so pleased. Maybe he was just getting the idea that he'd bitten off more than he could chew. I'd known Samantha for a long time, because of my friendship with her sister. She was a pit bull in designer label. Once she got a hold of something, she didn't let go.

I plopped down at the table with my usual crew, and settled into our usual banter. We tried to avoid the topic du jour, and for the most part succeeded. Things were going just fine until the end of the lunch period. My group had gotten up and had left our table, and was moving towards the exit of the lunchroom. Possibly by coincidence, but probably not, the jock contingent made its way to the doors at the same time. I saw Mark approaching.

"Hey, Capuzzo." He said to me, his snide tone grating my nerves instantly. "Heard you 'picked up' my leftovers this morning." He laughed. "Let me know how that works out for you." And then he walked out the doors, Samantha right behind him. I saw Rob motioning forwards, but I raised a hand to hold him back. This was not the time or the place, though I had a good idea that time was coming, and I wouldn't be able to avoid it. I might even relish it ... but all in due time.

Trailing behind Mark was the rest of the football crowd. It was then and there I made my decision. When Brandon passed, I caught him glance my way. He caught my gaze, and I gave him a very subtle nod. He caught my meaning instantly, and I knew it by the small smile that started to creep across his face. He didn't let on about it to anyone, though, and just continued off following his crew. I'd let him worry about the details.

After school had ended, I was packing up my things and putting them into my backpack when I felt someone standing next to me. I looked over to see Roxanne standing there. She had her coat on and her bag with her, and looked like she was on her way out. She looked happy.

"Hello, Roxanne." I said, remaining neutral. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"