"Well, I am."
My blood turned to ice. My legs swayed and I struggled to stay on my feet. I clutched the head of my cane hard enough for my knuckles to pale.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because you contribute nothing to this orphanage."
The shock hit me like a physical blow. "What?"
"Always waking up late, constantly making up excuses about why you can't do something, puttering around on that cane and acting like you're an invalid—"
The words stung but it was nothing I hadn't heard before. In a way, it was almost a relief that her qualms were the same as they always were and that I hadn't done anything in particular to earn her ire.
Headmaster sneered at my cane. "You should be lucky I let you carry that thing in the first place. It qualifies as a weapon."
It never once crossed my mind to think of it that way. "I'll fall if you take it."
"I've seen you walk without it," she retorted.
"Icanwalk without it.But that doesn't mean it's easy or healthy."
She narrowed her eyes. "This is exactly the attitude I despise. Don't argue with me, Florian. I've already made up my mind." She turned around, declaring this conversation over. "If I were you, I'd start looking for work and lodging now."
There was no space to speak up. She shut the door behind her.
I stood there for a minute feeling numb. It was true. Headmaster was going to throw me out. Her mind was clearly made up. There was nothing I could do to stop her.
Shaken, I slowly walked back to the room I shared with Pascal. The stress aggravated my frayed, sensitive nerves. They bristled with every step.
By the time I reached my bed, I was exhausted, both from the day's fatigue and the stress of my discovery. I collapsed on it with a sigh. Pascal rushed to me.
"Florian, you okay?"
I blearily opened my eyes. "Yes... Well, no."
"What happened?" he asked, frowning. I had a feeling he already knew.
I faced him with a grimace. "You were right."
Pascal's face fell. "I wish I wasn't. Oh, Florian, I'm so sorry." He growled, his fingers curling into fists. "This is total bullshit!"
I nodded, too tired to speak. He flopped next to me in bed and gently stroked my back.
"There has to be something we can do," Pascal suggested.
"I don't think there is," I said. "I saw it on her face. She's never going to change her mind."
Pascal shook his head. "This isn't fair. You do so much for her. And your birthday's in a week, isn't it?"
I sighed. Just knowing there was a deadline made me that much more exhausted. "Yes."
Pascal clutched the thin sheets angrily, then gestured with his hands. He was always so expressive. "Maybe I can talk to her."
"I don't think Headmaster wants to talk," I said, defeated.
"What if I—"
I put my hand on Pascal's wrist. "It's all right. I appreciate you, my friend. But I think we both know that life just isn't fair sometimes."
