I raise an eyebrow. “You know, one day I’d like to turn up somewhere without every sound I make having been eavesdropped on through the walls.”
“To be fair, I don’t think you can blame this one on the architecture. You guys were loud.”
Not how I remember it. Especially not with my lips still feeling the imprint of Seb’s hand as it clamped it shut.
“Whatever,” I say with a one-shoulder shrug. “Anything exciting happen after I left yesterday?”
“Left,” she repeats with an eyeroll. “After you were escorted to the clinic because old lover boy got handy with his fists? Nah. Not much. I heard his parents have been called. Your boy Seb should watch his back. I think there might be a struggle heading his way.”
Although I’d said as much to him yesterday, hearing it from Rowena makes the whole thing seem so real. “You think you can gather a few eyewitnesses to back up our account?”
“Girl, you do not need to worry on that score. His friends were so disgusted, he might as well be walking around with a plague circle drawn around his arse.”
The words are reassuring until the head walks into the cafeteria, scopes out the students, then strides straight over to me. “I’m glad to see you’re better,” she says, as though she’d seen me when I was in pain. “Could you come along to my office? There’s a few matters we need to discuss.”
I exchange a puzzled glance with Rowena, but obediently follow her, feeling for all the world like I’m the one who’s done something wrong.
A feeing that intensifies when I spot Marnie in the outer office. My feet stutter to a halt as my chest hitches, a tremor gripping me until I shake from head to toe. I curl my left hand into a fist, concentrating on how my nails dig into the skin of my palm, using it to centre me.
“What’s happening?” I ask in a tiny voice. “Why are you here?”
“We came as soon as we could,” she gushes, pulling me into a hug that sends a bolt of pain spilling along the length of my bruise. “Why didn’t you answer your phone when we called?”
My phone. I reach into my pocket to see it’s still turned off from classes yesterday. When I switch it on, the screen lights up with messages.
“Sorry.” I rub the back of my hand against my forehead which is suddenly itching. “I didn’t realise.”
“That’s okay, love. I’d rather see you in person, anyway. How are you?”
The false concern makes the acid levels rise in my stomach. The few bites of breakfast I got in before being summoned slosh back and forth until I feel seasick. “I’m fine,” I whisper, playing into the happy family routine as always.
The head beams at both of us, not noticing anything amiss.
“Allain’s in the car,” Marnie tells me. “We just need to get your signature on the papers and then we can go.”
“Signature?” I stare at the head, hoping for clarification. “For a waiver or something?”
My eyes skate further, seeing into her office, the panels see-through Perspex that makes anyone inside feel like they’re in a fishbowl. Not exactly the welcoming or private atmosphere that would lead people to feel comfortable disclosing their secrets.
Joseph is in there with his father, a man I recognise from the photos he keeps in his room. They’re both standing, Joseph leaning casually against the wall. Not the posture of a boy being reprimanded. His father doesn’t wear the expression of a man whose progeny is about to be expelled.
Exactly as I told Seb. So why does the sight make my stomach clutch worse than ever; make my injury burn like it’s been set on fire?
“No,” she says, checking with Marnie before straightening her posture and shaking her head. “You’ll need to sign your leaving papers. Just to make sure the school has everything in order.”
My leaving papers.
I jostle the words around in my head, hoping they’ll add up to something different than the obvious.
“Your father’s made a satisfactory arrangement,” Marnie tells me, her hand resting on my shoulder, every passing second increasing its weight. “Joseph’s dad will refund the full cost of your education here, including expenses.”
I shift from foot to foot. “In return for me not making a complaint?”
“Exactly.” Marnie’s smile broadens. “Nobody wants Joseph to be excluded, not in his final year. His studies are so important, especially with him taking some early enrolment courses at university. I’m sure you’ll agree you have far less interest in your lessons. It just makes sense that you be the one to leave.”
My lungs shrink in volume, shrivelling into tiny fists that couldn’t process air to save themselves, to save me. “Leave? You want me to leave school?”
“Well, I mean you can re-enrol in the local high school again if you’re that desperate to keep up with your studies, but given the trouble you keep running into, that doesn’t seem the best use of your time.”
