Jordan slumps in his chair. He knew it. He glances over at his father, wondering what will happen next.
Veins like cords stand out on Mr. Matthews’ neck and forehead. His skin has turned red in anger, and his hands shake. When Mr. Form slides a piece of paper across the desk for him to sign, Mr. Matthews snatches it up and, without looking at it, crumples it into his fist.
“No,” he says. “My son did nothing wrong.”
“Sir,” Mr. Form tries to explain, “school policy states—”
“Show me, then.” Mr. Matthews wads the paper in his hand and tosses it back onto the desk, where it sits between them like a used tissue. “You show me where it says any student caught kissing another will be suspended from class. It wasn’t rough housing and you know it. I know it, my son knows it, and soon the whole d
