THE WRONG KIND OF TROUBLE

Chapter 17

He was King Tom after all.

Jennifer sarcastically smirked. "Oh, so you're a good guy now?"

She got no answer.

"Why are you here? Don't tell me you're mad? Isn't seeing others' pain your thing?" she asked, her voice dripping with irony.

Still no answer.

I could tell Tom’s silence was pissing the shittake mushrooms out of her. I kept my arms looped around his shoulders while his hand stayed firm on my waist, guiding me as I walked. I suddenly lost all my strength. I must’ve used every ounce of energy earlier just to keep my face from getting sucked into that swirly water of doom.

Jen croaked, her voice laced with threat. “I’m not done with her yet!”

“Will you shut up?” Tom growled, annoyance dripping from every word. We’d already walked past her and were now right in front of her, near the doorway where curious students were gathering to watch.

Jennifer flinched, letting out a tiny squeal. Paula clutched her friend’s shoulder like she was holding on for dear life.

“What is going on here?” Miss Kelly snapped as she barged into the mess. Mr. Wallace trailed behind her, and so did Mr. Ford—the fresh-graduate, freshly-hired Language instructor who still looked confused about why he chose this career.

Some of our audience scattered the moment Mr. Wallace told them to leave. The rest stayed, because apparently this was their afternoon telenovela. Mr. Wallace kept trying to shoo them away, but they didn’t budge, so he just… gave up.

Then the bell rang, ending lunch like a dramatic soundtrack cue.

Before any of us could even pretend to walk back to class, Miss Kelly told the three of us to follow her. In less than a minute, we were being escorted down the hallway like the school’s featured troublemakers. Students stared at us as if we were walking into a live drama episode. And just like that, I ended up in the one place I never thought I would be in.

It was my first time being sent to the Principal’s office. Perfect. This was absolutely not going to look good on my record. My student council record, to be exact.

Mr. Wilmer sat behind his desk, which looked like it had officially given up on life. You could see cracks on the side, and some parts of its colors had already started fading. Papers were stacked on one side, almost reaching the lava lamp sitting at the far corner. I had no idea why he even had a lava lamp. I was too scared to ask.

I sat in front of him, trying my best to look innocent. Tom was on my right, looking relaxed with one leg crossed over the other in the famous “de cuatro.” Jennifer was on my left, still sulking with her arms tightly crossed against her chest.

The room was painfully quiet. The only noise came from the ticking wall clock, which made everything feel even more dramatic. Mr. Wilmer still had not said anything. He kept sorting through the pile of papers on his desk while clearing his throat every few seconds, like he was warming up for a speech.

When he finally finished flipping through the documents, he pushed the stack aside and focused on us. His glare felt sharp enough to stab straight through my eyes and travel all the way down my spine.

He cleared his throat again, then clasped his hands together just below his chin. His elbows stayed planted on the table as if he were preparing to interrogate us one by one.

I moved my eyes around the room, pretending to look at anything except his face. From my peripheral vision, I could see Tom yawning. Apparently, the situation was not thrilling enough for him.

Mr. Wilmer cleared his throat again, this time sounding more serious. “I assume the three of you know exactly why you are here,” he said.

None of us answered. I mean, what were we supposed to say?

"I mean, Tom, I can understand. Jennifer, slightly understandable. But you, Ms. Reyes," I bobbed my head down upon hearing him mention my name. Tom and Jennifer didn't seem to have any reaction at all.

“It was her fault, Mr. Wilmer,” Jennifer wailed in a gentle, pleading voice. The voice was obviously fake. “She started it.”

I rolled my eyes and told him otherwise. I explained everything that happened, starting from the cafeteria all the way to the scene in the girls’ bathroom. Jennifer denied every single detail.

The Principal’s office was filled with grunts, growls, and loud arguing between the two of us. I even caught myself slowly pushing my body upright, as if sitting taller would magically give my side of the story more authority. Tom just sat there, watching us with clear amusement.

Mr. Wilmer raised his hand. “Enough.” His voice was loud and heavy with authority. “I do not care who began shouting or swinging first. I want to know what started this in the first place.”

I sank back into my seat. Honestly, I had no idea either. I was well aware that Jennifer hated me. She hated a lot of people, actually. But this time, she took things way too far.

What did I even do to make her this mad?

Jen gave a sarcastic smirk. “You want to know what’s going on? I heard she was talking to my Cameron, my boyfriend,” she retorted, emphasizing the word ‘boyfriend.’

My jaw dropped. Tom looked just as shocked, and I caught his eyes widening as he adjusted his position—both feet now planted firmly on the floor. I slowly turned my head to look at Tom, and my eyes caught him glaring at me, his fists clenched over his legs. I got so nervous, I quickly looked the other way.

I couldn’t believe she knew that. Well, it wasn’t impossible. Cameron did interrupt us in class and announce, in front of everyone, that he wanted to talk to me. Someone probably told her.

I had nothing to say. It was true, after all.

I noticed Mr. Wilmer’s jaw stiffen as he shook his head in annoyance. His gaze shifted to Tom, who, all this time, remained silent.

“Well, Tom? What’s your defense?”

Tom shrugged. “Beats me. I was there to stop them.” He leaned his torso forward, getting closer to Mr. Wilmer’s desk. “As a matter of fact, I did something good here,” he added, confidently tapping a finger on the desk.

"Hmmm?" The Principal's voice was doubtful. An eyebrow even raised.

"Yeah. If I didn't arrive, Reyes would have drunk toilet water by now," he proclaimed proudly.

Jennifer rolled her eyes and grunted. “He just had to take the fun out of it,” she mumbled under her breath.

Mr. Wilmer cleared his throat, pushing the tension aside. “Ms. Morrison,” he addressed Jennifer.

Jennifer pouted and rolled her eyes at him.

“I cannot tolerate this behavior. If it happens again, I might as well tell your grandfather about it.”

Jennifer gasped, and her sarcastic smile melted into horror. “You wouldn’t dare?” she squealed.

“Yes. Yes, I would,” Mr. Wilmer said, adjusting his tie under his black coat.

My eyes widened again, not because of what the Principal said, but because of Jennifer’s terrified expression.

“My parents are lawyers, in case you forgot. They have won 99.9 percent of their cases. I can bring you down, Principal Wilmer!” the doe-eyed evil Queen threatened.

Mr. Wilmer stayed calm. There was no sign of being fazed. “I know. I did not forget. But I am pretty sure they will not tolerate this attitude either. What you did, Morrison, was bullying. Your grandfather will not be pleased. Your parents will not be pleased either.”

Jennifer leaned forward, slamming her hands on the table. “No!” she crowed.

Suddenly, as if realizing her actions, she pulled back and regained a semblance of poise. “Please, Principal Wilmer. Don’t tell them about this. They… they…” Her voice shook as she began to sob. She even snuffled.

“Please. They will send me to boarding school. I don’t want to go there!” she sobbed, though no tears fell.

“Relax. You are reprimanded for now. Next time I see you here in my office, consider a letter sent to your parents and grandfather,” Mr. Wilmer said.

Those were his last words before dismissing us. I wasn’t scolded, thank God. Jennifer’s excuse for what she did to me did not hold up. Just because I talked to Cameron, she tried to do that to me? If it had been because she saw me almost making out with Cameron, that would have been different.

Tom was reprimanded too, even though he had not done anything wrong. Well, except for the part where Wes, Liz, and I saw him beat someone up earlier, before the whole thing with the evil Queen and me.

I did wonder why he rushed there. Was he concerned about me? He even slapped Jennifer. Was there anger behind that act?

My heart skipped a beat at the thought. My cheeks warmed. For some reason, I felt happy.

Ugh. What am I thinking?

When we stepped out of the Principal’s office, our friends were sitting silently on the bench a few steps from the doorway. Lockers lined the wall beside them.

No one else was around since students were back in class. The three of us were excused. Liz, Wes, and Paula had cut class to show support. I loved my best friends, though not including Paula. She was there for Jen, obviously.

As soon as the door closed, Jennifer grabbed my elbow with her thin fingers. The evil Queen was back.

I glanced at Tom behind me. He was frowning but did nothing. His hands were buried in his pants pockets. I pleaded with my eyes for him to intervene, but his only response was a raised eyebrow and a tilted head.

Jennifer dragged me by the elbow toward the benches where our friends sat. Tom began marching in the opposite direction.

That mongrel, I thought.

Liz opened her mouth to speak, but Paula acted first. She grabbed Liz’s arm, twisting it behind her back while covering Liz’s mouth with her other hand, like cops arresting a criminal.

“Looks like your little savior doesn’t care about you anymore,” Paula snorted, letting out a devilish giggle.

“Let me go!” I struggled, but her grip only tightened. She was strong for a prima donna. Sheesh.

“Yeah, let her go, or I’ll tell Mr. Wilmer,” Wes squeaked.

“Oh, boohoo. I’m scared. Go ahead, moss-head,” Jennifer taunted.