[Im so stressed wtf why do I have so many tests I hate 11th grade]

The incident involving Carmen Green and her tooth had been delivered directly to Bear after a whole week of it floating around unresolved. I'd thought and hoped that the whole situation had been forgotten with the minor exception of the person that'd fallen victim to my knuckles and the bruises on my hands. We'd kill each other on our own time, and avoid being wrapped up in the education system taking a stand against trying to duke it out.

But I wasn't allowed to have nice things.

So I sat in Bear's office on a swivel chair while he tried to convince me to tell him my side of the story while simultaneously trying to stop me from spinning around in case I grew nauseous and lost my breakfast in his garbage can. He deserved it. Maybe I'd spin a little faster next time around, because I'd definitely be back sometime or another.

"Brendon — Brendon, quit — quit spin — quit spinning please." He was trying his best to keep his composure and not toss me and the chair out of the window. I would've done it to myself already.

"Yeah, the thing is, I don't really feel like it. Just, like, interrogate me while I spin." I only caught glimpses of Bear shooting daggers my way over my knees. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an excessively long sigh.

"Why did you punch Carmen?"

"B'cause I can."

"You knocked out her tooth."

"Good. She deserved it."

"What'd she do?"

Provoked me. "Spitball."

He didn't sound more or less concerned. Just tired, like the small bits of the story had felt all too familiar. "Was that an appropriate way to respond to her actions?"

"Hell yeah it was," I stopped spinning for the time being to put my elbows on his desk and lean on the palm of my hand, "she's lucky Dallon held me back. I would've knocked out all of her other teeth too, if he hadn't stopped me from doing it right then and there."

Bear slumped over in his seat, muttering something along the lines of "this isn't happening". I mean, I wished it wasn't either, but we can't all get what we want. I almost said that, but it sounded like he was crying, so I bit my tongue and I refrained from saying anything else.

Maybe some other time.

🖍🖍🖍

Dallon's friends were weird. Not in the bad way, but they really were weird. His friend Josh, the cross country runner, ran an Instagram page with nearly a million followers, which was weird because he only posted memes in the process of dying. Then his friend Tyler couldn't catch a break. He constantly stumbled over his words and flashed double chins at the worst time for a friendly blackmail photo. He didn't talk much either. I felt bad for him sometimes. I'd heard he was an absolute monster before he'd met Josh. Then their other friend was the one that'd been sent to Lame Oak in my place — I assumed he was the one Pete liked.

They'd been discussing the answers and procedures on the math test, which Dallon and I hadn't taken yet. But I was wearing one of the uniform jackets, even though it was summertime still, so I rolled up the sleeves and started to write down the formulas and the obvious answers to certain questions. I'd just hoped I wouldn't get caught during the test.

Dallon was the one to slap the sharpie out of my hand and grab my wrists. Both Tyler and Josh stopped arguing over negative and positive signs to watch what I was expecting to be the biggest chew out of all time. Not that I wasn't used to them.

"And just what in the world do you think you're doing?" He muttered. His lips were bent to a disappointed scowl that resembled my moms far too much than I would've liked.

"...Passing the math test?"

"Absolutely not!" His grip shifted to hold both my wrists, and he licked his thumb and started rubbing off the marker. And I couldn't wiggle away, because he was way stronger than I'd anticipated, and he wouldn't let me go. Maybe he was on the wresting team a while ago and just never told anyone. Maybe he'd taken lessons from my mom on how to stop me from executing brilliant ideas.

"This is assault! I feel violated! I'm calling the cops — I'm gonna sue!" I tried to kick him off with no results, and then I attempted head butting until one of the security guards had to literally pull me away before I ripped his head off his shoulders. I almost did. I was so close, but so far.

The security guard merely walked off after he took note of who I was, presumably because they didn't want to deal with me. Apparently teachers gossiped about me in their lounge over a cup of coffee spiked with twenty bottles of five hour energy so they could handle me for an hour. Understandable. One of my elementary school teachers said I was the (un)purest embodiment of a living nightmare, and from that moment forward, everyone in the school knew who I was. Word passed quickly in elementary.

Josh flashed his phone screen to Dallon. "You look like a soccer mom trying to clean chocolate off of her rowdy kid's face."

Well, he wasn't wrong. I was constantly treated like an irresponsible child. Which I technically was. That wasn't the point.

"Somedays, that's what it feels like." He sighed and released me after inspecting my other arm. I bit back the urge to slam his hardcover textbook into his cheek as hard as I possibly could.

"I'm not a fuckin' child—"

"Well apparently you are, because children know the fourth word you used is completely unacceptable for a school setting, as is attempting to cheat on a simple math quiz, and kicking others."

Jerk. "I wasn't even cheating."

A sour look crossed over his face. "What were you doing then?"

"Passing the fucking—"

Dallon shoved his elbow into my side with a glare. "Try that again."

In the midst of the internal screaming, I held the impressive restraint to not swear to toss a homemade stink bomb in his shower later. "At least I don't have a stick up my... butt."

I knew I wouldn't have repercussions that really mattered. What could he do? What could his parents do, what could Bear do? Send me back to Lame Oak? Give me detention, which I would undoubtedly sneak out of? Take me back to Juvy and have to pick me up a week later? Even if they wanted to get rid of me, they couldn't. Because nobody else wanted me. If you were to really sit down and dwell on it, nobody could ever really punish you. Everyone gets fed up with that kid, and then the only thing left to do is absolutely nothing. And then you've won.

"That's much better," he patted me on the back and pulled out an unopened box of chocolate chip cookies from his backpack, like treats for a disobedient dog.

At first, I wasn't gonna take one from him, because it was a degrading thing to do. But also, he was offering me a free cookie in exchange for not saying "ass", so of course I was going to take it. They were the good brand. I was still planning on staying myself, but if I got a few cookies along the way and tricked him into thinking he was fixing me when he really wasn't? One of the best pranks ever filed in my book. My dignity remained intact.

So I took a cookie, and thus begun the first stage to my debut at Cardine. Nobody had to know that, though. That was my own little secret.