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"Thanks, but I can get a ride myself." Maybe.Hopefully.
"Do you not like me?" If he was offended by my responses, it didn't show. He merely asked as though truly curious to know theanswer.
"You didn't step in to help that kid," Ireplied.
"Who? Jimmy? He would have been fine. Besides, no one else was stepping in either. You don't seem angry atthem."
"I am," I said. I was absolutely, blood boiling, furious. "It's not okay to just let someone get hurt and it's disgusting that they not only let him get hurt, they encouraged it. Thomas could have seriously injured him, and everyone was shouting as if it were a professional wrestling match. So, yes, I'm angry atthem!"
I hadn't realized that my voice had risen until Mrs. Donovan coughed quietly in reprimand. I sighed and counted the threads of the chair covers to calmmyself.
"Well, I did step up for you with theWig."
"I don't like thatname."
"Why? Everyone knows he's bald as a naked mole rat under that horrid wig of his. It's ironic that his name is Wiggins, isn'tit?"
I didn't answer. Sure, Principal Wiggins had a reputation of being harsh in punishments and lazy in everything else, especially since he had forgone teaching for his administrative role, but I'm sure if he heard anyone call him "The Wig" his feelings would be hurt. He had been a fair teacher when I hadhim.
"I just don't likeit."
"Okay, I won't say it." Silence stretched until Mrs. Donovan went back to her typing. Those clicking keys were the only sound aside from the low hum of jazz music in thebackground.
"Harlow?" Principal Wiggins stood at the door with a red-faced Thomas in tow. "If you will please follow me back." He turned to Thomas. "You," he snapped, pointing to a chair. "Sit and don'tmove."
I left my backpack on a chair next to Grayson. When we bypassed Principal Wiggins' office and continued on to the conference room where I had met Bellamy the first time, I wavered. Bellamy sat in the conference room, in the very same seat he had before. I chose a seat a moderate but sufficient distanceaway.
"Am I in trouble?" Did they think that I had anything to do with the fight? What had Thomassaid?
"No, you're not in trouble, Harlow." Bellamy's strong baritone was soothing to my nerves and that knowledge only caused them to tense oncemore.
"Miss Hampton," Principal Wiggins began, "I actually brought you here because I was on my way to grab you before you made it out of class. I assure you, Thomas will be dealt with, but I was coming to retrieve you because I know you've had a meeting with Mr. Woodstone here. He's very excited to accept you into a pre-collegeprogram."
"A pre-college program?" I turned to him. "I thought you weren't arecruiter?"
"Well, um..." Principal Wiggins continued to blunder, going through many more ‘ums’ and ‘wells’ before Bellamy leaned forward, stoppinghim.
"I never said I wasn't a recruiter," he said. "The program I have suggested for you is similar to a technical degree. You will receive training outside of a classroom. If you would like to attend a few classes, I'm sure we can arrange that as well. Unfortunately, I can't tell you much more until you agree to it first. We will then have you sign a nondisclosureagreement."
I put my hand up, stopping him. "Wait? Nondisclosure agreement?What?"
"Miss Hampton, this program is very beneficial to those who are accepted," Principal Wiggins assuredme.
"I'm sure that's very true," I replied respectfully, "but I can't affordit."
"Everything will be paidfor."
The words 'paid for' fluttered through my mind like free range birds, chirping and nipping at my wants and desires. I could have some sort of degree. Get a better job. Maybe a car. Better medication and doctors for mymom.
"Paid for," I repeated. Maybe I really was beingpranked.
"I've already talked to you about the program, Harlow." Bellamy leaned forward, a strand of his long, dark hair escaping the band that kept most of it held together. "I'm here because you are a perfect candidate. You would start right away. We would even be able to pay you for your studies and interests in us. Much more than what you make at Alex'sDiner."
"How do you know where Iwork?"
Stupid question. Alex probably was fairly popular and he only had so many employees. He had already admitted to me once that he bragged about me like his own daughter. On top of that, I didn't live in a large town, anyone could see me at any time walking to and fromwork.
"Never mind." I shook my head. "It doesn't matter." I took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry, Mr. Woodstone–" The look in his eyes was incendiary. "Bellamy," I corrected. "I just can't be sure what I'm getting into until I get more information. How do I know that the program you're offering won't tie me up for several years in requirements? There are scholarships that dothat."
