“Fine,” he says, his lip slightly snarled.
I hear a door open behind me, and a woman’s voice follows.
“Miss Shepherd, Jesse. Please, come with me,” the principal says. She’s tall and thin with her short blonde hair slicked back into a low ponytail. “Stay put,” she says, pointing a finger at the other kid. “We’re still trying to get ahold of your parents.”
I hear the kid mumble a sarcastic good luck with that right before the office door closes behind us.
“Have a seat,” she says, gesturing toward two wooden chairs with blue padding. There’s a man standing off to the side of the room wearing a white polo with the school’s logo, a hat, and a whistle around his neck.
“This is Coach Standifer. He’s our P.E. teacher. Jesse was in his class at the time.”
“Nice to meet you,” he says, offering his hand. I shake it and give a wobbly smile before sitting down. Jess takes the seat next to me.
“I understand that you’re his sister?” Mrs. Connelly asks.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We usually require a legal guardian for this type of thing, but I understand your case isn’t…typical.”
Oh, you mean most kids here have parents who actually give a shit? Crazy concept.
I don’t respond. I sit quietly, waiting for the gavel to drop.
“Jesse has made quite a stir in the short time he’s been here,” she says, looking through pages inside a manila folder. “He’s been late, missed periods, mouthed off, and today, he was physical with another student. I’m sure you know we can’t allow that. The protection of our students is paramount, and it’s my job to make this a safe environment.”
“Jesse isn’t violent,” I start. “I’m not sure what happened, but I can promise you it won’t happen again.”
“It can’t. To be frank with you, Miss Shepherd, we have enough to expel him right now.”
At that, Jess finally reacts. His head snaps up. “You can’t do that,” he says. His voice is steady, but I can hear the underlying panic.
“But,” she continues. “I’ve decided to suspend you for five days.”
Jess shakes his head, his nostrils flaring. He angles his face toward the floor, never wanting anyone to see the emotions he wears so clearly on his face. “I’m the first one to admit that I’m a fuckup, but this time it wasn’t my fault.”
“Did you throw the first punch?” she asks, one eyebrow raised in question.
“Yes,”
he admits grudgingly. “But—”
“You threw the first punch, Mr. Shepherd. I’m sorry.”
“Can we pause for just a minute?” I ask, holding a palm up. I need to know exactly what happened if I’m going to talk him out of this one. “Jess,” I say, turning to face him. “What started this? Tell me how it happened from start to end.”
Jess rolls his eyes and picks at the strands of ripped thread at his knee. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Jess, please. I can’t help you if I don’t know how to defend you.”
“Collins was pulling his shit again,” Coach Standifer chimes in, surprising me, and from the looks of it, Mrs. Connelly, too. “Kid kept throwing a basketball at Jesse. I fouled him and told him to knock it off. Saw him walk right up to Jesse, point-blank, and throttle that ball right into the back of his head. Before I could react, Jesse turned around and swung.”
“Are you kidding me?” My blood is boiling. “It’s taking every ounce of my self-control not to go out there and pummel that kid. How can you expect Jesse to just let that happen?”
“Mr. Collins will be reprimanded as well. He claims it was an accident, and technically—”
“With all due respect, Mrs. Connelly, it was no accident,” the coach says.
“So, what do you propose we do?” she asks tiredly.