Big Fat Disaster (23 page)

I’m practically vibrating on the chair in the hallway outside the principal’s door. I hear Coach Allison repeating what I said to Kayley and Kara. But he doesn’t stop there; he complains about Ryan being in his classroom, too. “I have the right not to have disruptive people in my class, Howard, and that boy is out to destroy my football team. I can’t stand the sight of him!”

I don’t know what the principal, Mr. McDaniel, says to Coach Allison, but the coach must not like it because when he leaves, he throws open the door so hard that it bounces off the wall and closes again. A few seconds later, a tall, thin man who looks way too young to be a principal opens the door. He’s got a beard, but it doesn’t go with the rest of his face.

“Colby Denton?”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Yes, sir.”

“Come in and have a seat.” He leans on the edge of his desk and crosses his arms, watching me.

I start babbling the way I do when I get nervous. “I really am sorry—I’ve never been in trouble before and I promise it won’t happen again—I’m not the type of person who usually does things like this.” I gasp for air.

He frowns. “Well, you managed to send Coach Allison’s blood pressure through the roof this morning. Are you happy with yourself?”

I don’t know what to say to that; what I did had nothing to do with Coach Allison or his blood pressure. “I…I was just…mad.”

His eyebrows make a V over his eyes and he rubs his beard. “And the best way to deal with that was dropping the F-bomb in my hallway?”

I choke out, “No, sir.”

His face softens and he rubs one eye. “Let’s hear your side: I’d love to know the circumstances that led you to being in my office on the second day of school.”

There’s a knock on his door and his secretary sticks her head in. “The air conditioner’s not working in the art room. I’ve put a call in to maintenance.” She glances at me. “You’re the one who left campus without permission yesterday, aren’t you?”

Mr. McDaniel’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is that so? I knew we had a runner, but I didn’t know it was you.”

I visualize a person in a foot race. “A…runner?”

“Yes, a student who runs away from campus. That kind of runner.”

I close my eyes and nod slowly. I shoot a quick prayer up to God:
Kill me now. Please. Just…kill me now.

He narrows his eyes like he’s connecting the dots. “I heard about some disturbance at lunch. Would you like to tell me about that?” He glances at his secretary. “Bring me Colby’s file, please.” He circles to his chair and falls into it, then picks up a coffee mug and takes a sip. He’s not careful when he places the mug on his desk calendar, and coffee sloshes over the sides. “Dang it!”

Mr. McDaniel reaches across his desk for the tissue box and bumps the framed photo of his wife in her bridal gown. It teeters off the edge of the desk, and I catch it just before it hits the floor. The next thing I know, I can’t even see the photo in my hands because I’m crying so hard.

“Well, bless your heart.” Mr. McDaniel leans forward in his chair and offers me the tissue box when I finish telling him everything. “That’s quite a lot of change to go through in about a little over a month’s time. I’ve seen the news stories about your father, but I didn’t make the connection.”

I pluck a couple of tissues and mumble, “I wish everybody else hadn’t, either.”
My throat is closing up. I’m sure of it. Maybe I’ll drop dead soon. Hope so.

He pages through my file. “Looks like you’re a strong student in just about everything except math. That right?”

I drag my eyes up to meet his and nod silently.

He closes the file and places it atop a stack of papers. “Thanks for being honest with me about what’s going on in your life. I’ll speak with Kayley and Kara about their behavior, but I need you to promise me that you’re not going to go off on anybody else. Can you do that?”

I thread the tissue between my fingers and nod. I feel nearly as tired as I was when I woke up in the ambulance.

“Okay, I’m just going to give your mom a quick call to let her know that I’m addressing the problems you’re having with Kayley and Kara.”

I sit up straight. “But she doesn’t even know about them. You don’t need to do that.”

Mr. McDaniel shakes his head. “Nope; I’m a big believer in that old adage, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.”

He dials the number to Sugar’s. “Yes, may I speak to Sonya Denton, please?…Oh, hello, Mrs. Denton. I’m Howard McDaniel, principal of Piney Creek High School. Colby’s here in my office; she had a verbal altercation with some other students this morning, and—” He glances at me and traces the coffee stains on his calendar with his finger. “—No, ma’am, I wouldn’t say it’s
Colby’s
fault; actually, these other students have been harassing her in part because of her, um, clothes…” He sits up slightly in his chair and peers over his desk at me. “What she’s wearing today is fine, completely within dress code…No, they’re not too tight; not at all…Actually, I think the other girls’ main focus today was on your husband’s…issues.” He leans back in his chair and looks at the ceiling.

I don’t know what Mom says to him, but his face turns red and he rotates his chair away from me. He lowers his voice, which is pretty useless seeing as how I’m sitting right across from him in his small office.

“Ma’am, I simply called to let you know that it’s being dealt with, in the event that you were concerned that she was being bullied.” He leans back in his chair but immediately lurches forward and lowers his voice even more. “No, I don’t think your daughter is telling, well,
anyone
, about finding a photo.”

Mr. McDaniel turns his chair back to his desk but won’t make eye contact. He retrieves my file, picks up a pen, and jots some notes on the outside of it, but I can’t read them from where I am.

“I think your perception of this situation is inaccurate, Mrs. Denton. Colby is
not
causing problems; my impression of her is that she is a good student…yes, except for math. That’s why she was placed in our remedial math class.” He listens a while longer, nodding in response to what she’s saying. “…Yes, and I appreciate you giving me all that information about Colby…No, we don’t do that here; we’d have no way to monitor what she’s eating at lunch. If you’re concerned that Colby has an eating disorder, perhaps you can contact the counseling office. No, ma’am, you’d need to do that. Well, you have a nice day, too…Mmm-hmm.”

He hangs up the phone, stares at it for what feels like a long time, then blinks a few times. “Wow. Wow-
wow
-wow.” He finally looks up at me and gives a forced smile.

“Hey, Colby, I’m…going to give you just a little advice that somebody once gave me, because I think that you and I might have a lot in common in the
parent department
. What I’m going to say is directed at the issues with your dad…and,
maybe
, with your mom, too. Sometimes, you’ve got to succeed
in spite
of your parents, instead of
because of
them. Parents have their own problems, but those are about
them
. They’re
not
a reflection of you. And that can be hard, especially when a parent does something spectacularly stupid, or, you know, maybe, they don’t seem very…supportive. No offense.”

I wave my hand and shake my head. My eyes are so swollen that I can barely blink.

“You’re going to have to stand tall and let all the bull crap that people throw at you just bounce off. I’ll do what I can on my end to see that Kayley and Kara lay off, but your cousin Ryan can tell you that I can’t be everywhere. If I could, what happened on the last day of school…” He shakes his head and looks away.

“What exactly
did
happen, anyway?”

He purses his lips. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He glances at me. “It was awful. Some other boys retaliated against Ryan for reporting the sexual assault of a girl at a party he attended, and—”

“Michael, José, and Fredrick?”

“I can’t divulge their names.”

“But I already know—”

He shrugs. “Sorry, I can’t do it. The attackers set Ryan up. The one who actually
did
the beating waited in an empty classroom, while the other two told Ryan that the teacher wanted to see him. There was a smartphone video of Mi—of the attacker—preparing himself. Actually, they caught the whole attack on video. It was uploaded to YouTube by 5:00
P.M.
that afternoon.”

“Why are those boys still here, then? Why aren’t they in jail?”

Mr. McDaniel leans his chair back and steeples his index fingers under his chin.

“I can’t discuss the investigation or administrative side of the issue, but I can tell you this: It’s my second year as principal here. I’m not a native of Piney Creek, so I’m learning the political system as I go along.”

I’m confused. “Isn’t it the same system as the rest of the United States? They have the same president, right?”

He smiles, but it’s not a genuine grin. “I don’t mean
those
kind of politics. I’m talking about the system of who you
know
and who they
are
.” His eyes widen. “I didn’t say that, and if you repeat it, I’ll deny it.”

“I won’t say anything.”

He stands, strides to his door, and opens it. “That’s a good policy to have when people say rude things, too: Don’t say a thing; just walk away. We’ll consider this a warning, Colby. Read your student handbook, and you’ll see the flowchart of consequences for breaking the rules.”

Maybe my head’s so full of snot that my mouth overrides my brain. I blurt, “So, since I’m a nobody, if I cuss in the hall I’ll get in trouble, but if I was a
somebody
, I could beat another person half to death and nothing happens?”

Mr. McDaniel grimaces and pulls me back into his office. He closes his door but keeps his hand on the knob. “That’s
not
what I said. Administrative decisions are made on an individual basis, given the information I have. In your case, a staff member overheard profanity. In Ryan’s case, there were no adult witnesses, which hampered the investigation.”

I whisper, “But there was a video. It was on YouTube.”

His voice is so low that I can barely hear him. “Deleted within an hour, and the phone was somehow run over by a car.” He opens the door. “Again: consider this a warning. I don’t want to see you in my office again for swearing at other students.”

I’m late to Fun Math. Coach Allison doesn’t even notice when I come in. He’s talking to his computer screen, and it takes me a second to realize he’s Skyping with somebody about the Friday night football game. I pull my workbook off the corner of his desk and pretend that I don’t hear Kayley whisper, “Thief!”

I steal a glance at Ryan; he’s got his head on his desk, sleeping. I check the board for the assignment, flip the workbook open to the assigned page, and stare blankly at it until the bell rings.

As soon as the tardy bell rings, Mrs. Lowe starts life skills class. “So? Did everybody figure out five ways to meet the need for self-worth?”

Oh, crap. I didn’t search for
how
to
do
it, just what self-worth
is
.
I slide down in my chair and try to become invisible; swallow hard and shake my head.
Why did I even bother getting out of bed today? Shit!