Rowdy Boy

“I didn’t do shit. Cole just attacked me,” Michael says.

“Bullshit!” I yell at him. “You fucking harassed Monica in the woods, and then you sent that fucking picture.”

“I didn’t send any fucking picture!” he spits back.

“Boys!” Mr. D interrupts. “Calm down.” Then he looks at Monica. “Maybe you can tell me what happened, seeing as you were apparently involved in this … drama.” He adds a sigh as if it annoys him to death.

“Um …” She bites her lip. “He and his buddies attacked me in the forest.”

“Okay. Tell me more. What else do you remember?” Mr. D coaxes her.

“They were trying to get on top of me,” she says, sniffing a little. “And Cole came to save me.”

“Who are the other guys that did this to you?” Mr. D asks. “Got any names? Descriptions? And have you gone to the police?”

“No.” She rubs her legs. “And I don’t know if I want to go to the police,” she says.

Michael narrows his eyes at her, so I throw myself between. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Mr. D nods a few times. “And this picture? What is that about?”

Monica clears her throat.

I sigh and avert my eyes. I guess this is the moment everything I did comes back to bite me in the ass. I don’t blame her. It’s my fault. I caused this mess, so it should be me who’s punished.

“I took a picture of her body,” I say before Monica has to lie.

Monica gasps. “Yeah, but I let him.”

I look at her intently. She doesn’t have to lie, yet she still chooses to. Why?

“Motherfuckers,” Michael growls. “You took that picture to make sure she wouldn’t talk, you liar.”

“That’s not true,” Monica spits back, leaning forward to throw him a deadly stare. “You’re the liar.”

Michael shakes his head, clenching his jaw. “Oh, this is rich. Fuck you two. You’re setting me up.”

“No one is setting anyone up,” Mr. D says. “And I want to know what happened to that picture.”

“It got shared,” Monica says.

“It wasn’t fucking me,” Michael retorts.

“Then who was it?” I ask.

“I don’t fucking know, okay? It was on your phone, not mine. Maybe you should ask yourself.”

“I would never fucking share that,” I hiss.

“Then who would? Think hard, Cole,” Michael retorts. “Got any enemies?”

“Stop,” Mr. D interrupts. “You two fought enough. I don’t want any back and forth on this anymore. I will find the culprit behind the sharing of this picture.” He takes a deep breath. “Revenge porn? Harassment? This is not acceptable. I have no choice but to expel you both.”

“What?” Both Michael and I say out loud, and we look at each other. I want to stomp his head into the ground just for getting me into this shit.

“You’ve forced my hand here,” Mr. D says.

“But Cole didn’t do anything,” Monica says, tears welling up in her eyes. “Please. He saved me. He only fought Michael because he wanted to protect me. That’s it.”

I appreciate that she’s trying to stick up for me, but she doesn’t have to. I deserve this. Besides, Mr. D looks at us like we’re fodder for jail.

“Oh, fuck this.” Michael gets up from his chair and throws it around. “I’m out of here.”

“Sit your ass down, Mr. Jones,” Mr. D growls. “Before I call the police and have you arrested on the spot for the destruction of school property.”

Michael clutches the door handle and waits for a few seconds before releasing it, huffing and puffing. He slouches back to his chair and sits down in the corner of the room with folded arms and a deadly look on his face.

“You two need to solve your issues,” Mr. D says, looking at both of us. “But there will be no more fighting on these school grounds, got it?”

“I understand, Mr. D,” I reply, hoping he might be lenient.

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and we all turn around.

“How dare you question my daughter like this!”

“Mom?” Monica mumbles, her jaw dropping. “What are you doing here?”

Mom? Oh, wow.

“Someone sent me a video shared on social media of two boys fighting over my daughter, talking about some kind of picture. And I know what that means,” she growls, looking at Mr. D. “You should have called me.”

“Ma’am, I’m still investigating this matter since it only just happened,” Mr. D tries to explain, but her mom is not having any of it, and I am amused.

“Do you have any idea what you just did?” her mom barks at Mr. D. “I’ve told you from the beginning just how vulnerable she was. You knew. And you let this happen in your school?”

Well, this isn’t something I expected. Nor did Mr. D, judging from the look on his face.

“Ma’am, I’m trying to get to the bottom of this,” Mr. D says. “And believe me when I say I am just as surprised as you are.”