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“Carson.” Mr. Bell nodded at him, and I couldn’t help but feel slightly smug he hadn’t said the same about him.
“Would either of you like to share your side of the story? Mr. Gorby already gave me his account.”
I glanced at Carson to see if he was eager to snitch, but he had dropped the hand cradling his head and sat there, eyes trained on his lap. He may be annoying, but he wasn’t a tattler, I mused. Well, neither was I.
I pressed my mouth into a tight line, fighting off the words that wanted to escape.Do you see my face?I wanted to yell.
“Okay, then.” Mr. Bell lounged back in his chair and tapped his pen on the desk as if thinking of the perfect punishment.
I began to sweat under his scrutiny. His gaze settled on something behind us, to the corner of the room before it returned back to us and he smiled.
My underarms dampened, and my throat rivaled the Sahara. Why was he looking at us with that excited gleam in his eye?Oh, no, this wasn’t good.
I said a silent prayer for mercy.
“Technically, you both assaulted each other. That’s pretty serious stuff. Normally, for something like this, a suspension would be on the table…”
I felt all the blood drain from my face.Suspension?
“But,” he continued, “I might have an alternative idea, a little peer remediation, so to speak.”
I didn’t like the sound of this.
“Remediation?” Carson asked, his forehead wrinkling.
I turned to him. “Remediation means the correction of something bad, so—”
“I know what remediation means,” he snapped.
A grin curved my lips. “Touchy.”
“Kids!” Mr. Bell banged his hand on the desk like a gavel. “Can we get along for two seconds?”
We both nodded while stealing guilty glances at each other.
“Every year, as I’m sure you’re aware, Lakeview Prep sponsors the needy families at Christmastime with the Angel Program. Mrs. Burnham usually coordinates it. She puts up the tree, does all the shopping and organizing, and raises added donations, but she went on maternity leave two weeks ago, leaving us empty handed.”
My stomach sunk.Oh,no…
“You two,” he pointed between us, “will work together to oversee the Angel Program this year. And, remember, Lakeview families are relying on you.”
“But it wasn’t my fault.” The words burst from my mouth before I could stop them. There was no way I was doing charity work alongside my enemy. Besides, I planned on preparing more essays over break so that if I didn’t get accepted for any of the early admissions programs I applied for, I’d have back-ups. That and I still needed to work on a date for the dance.
“Mia, you tried to strangle him.” Mr. Bell’s pointed gaze shifted to Carson’s neck, then back. “Regardless of whether he threw a ball at you or not, I cannot condone you taking matters into your own hands and assaulting him. Heaven knows there may have been a time or two I’ve wanted to strangle a student, but . . .” His voice trailed off before he cleared her throat and straightened as if remembering who he was talking to. “Physical assault is not condoned at Lakeview. Ever. You either work on the Angel Program and learn how to get along, or you can have a two-week suspension for the remainder of the semester leading into winter break.”
My eyes widened. “But I can’t have something like that on my school record. It will affect my college applications. I’m waiting to hear back from—”
“Well, then, it sounds like you’ve made your decision.”
I stared at him for a moment. He looked far too happy about his proposal, which led me to believe he was only thrilled to pawn the charity project off on someone else. One less thing he had to worry about with the holidays looming around the corner.
I glanced over at Carson to see if he was as outraged as I was, and of course, he just sat there, looking like he hadn’t a care in the world. When his eye caught mine, he shrugged. “No biggie. We’ll do it.”
I opened my mouth to speak, to disagree, but I stopped myself. There was no point. I was stuck—cornered. And he knew it, too. There was no way I could have a suspension on my permanent record.
I grunted and snapped my mouth shut, calculating in my head what this meant in terms of time spent with my nemesis like the convicted calculating their time in jail. Two weeks of planning prior to winter break—gathering supplies, garnering donations, putting the tree up, shopping, and organizing everything. Then there was the delivery of presents and supplies a few days before Christmas.
Ugh. Not only would this mean spending time with him outside of school these next couple weeks, but I’d have to see him over the break as well. I preferred to avoid him as much as possible, which was saying something since his younger brother was my best friend. It took a lot of skills—ones I had perfected over the last nine years—to carefully navigate his house with minimal interaction.
