To Fight Back (gxg)

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Chapter 8

I open the door to the front office, going to the secretary's desk. I ring the little bell on her desk a few times, placing my elbows on it afterwards, my chin on my interlaced fingers. She stops shuffling papers and looks up at me through her glasses, sighing. "Mrs.Hornwood. Long time no see." She teases. I was just here last week for 'public indecency'. I walked out of the gym locker rooms to the cafeteria in just a bra and panties because a boy on the lacrosse team dared me to. I know it was stupid, but it was pretty funny.

"Miss me babe?" I ask, sending her a charming smile.

"Always." She assures, patting my hand. She's like, the only administrator that I actually like because she isn't always up my ass. "Mr.Hancock is ready for you in his office."

"Aww, so soon?" I pout, "Oh, well. Till next time love."

I wink at her before walking over to the principal's door. I knock once, and he asks "who is it?"

I open the door a crack, peeking through, then stepping all the way in. "I'm Cinnamon, the stripper you called for. Mmm, a businessman I see, I like it." I announce, pushing the door shut with my back, eyeing the tall, balding man sitting in front of me.

He sighs heavily before motioning to the chair in front of him. "Please sit down Blake. We need to have a talk." He says warily. I know he's really getting tired of me and my antics, but it only makes me want to be more of a bitch. What can I say, I'm troubled.

I sit across from him, crossing one leg over the other, biting my tongue piercing in between my teeth seductively. "Aww, I was hoping for something a little more... fun." I say, raking my eyes over the pale, middle aged man. He's not that bad looking, but he's not very attractive either. I'm just putting on an act, please don't think I'm actually hitting on him. Oh God, that'd be disgusting. No offense, Mr.Handjob, err I mean, Handcock. Fuck, even my mind can't say it right. It's Mr.Hancock for God's sake.

He pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, squeezing his eyes shut. "Blake, you really need to stop talking to adults like that. Not only is it rude, but someone could charge you for sexual harassment. I doubt you'd want that."

Haha. Me getting charged for sexual harassment when I literally get fucking harassed all the damn time. I hate people so much, what with their constantly assuming shit.

"Why do you even care? I'd be out of your hair anyway." I retort harshly.

"I know it may not seem like it, but I want you to be successful in life."

I actually laugh at that. "Yeah, me, the girl who rarely comes to school, has the worst permanent record in the county, and is failing all her classes, being successful. I can totally see that," I snort, rolling my eyes and crossing my arms in annoyance. The fact that he thinks there's even a chance of me being successful is ridiculous in itself.

"You see, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. With the direction you're heading in right now, you'll have to repeat senior year." He explains.

And that caught my attention. "What the fuck do you mean I'll have to repeat senior year? I've done all the same things every other year, what's different?" I practically yell.

He laces his fingers on his desk with a sorry looking expression. Dammit, pity, get the fuck lost already. My stomach swirls. "To be able to graduate, you need a certain grade point average. You have to either get your grades up to above failing by the end of the year, or you'll get held back. I'm sorry, Blake but it's the only solution."

"B-but..." I stutter, racking my brain for any other solutions. "W-what if I just drop out? You don't need any kind of requirements to drop out." I offer desperately.

"That's a big decision, Blake. You won't be able to get any good jobs without at least your high school degree."

Shit. I really want to be a tattoo artist, and you need your GED to apply. I run my fingers through my hair, cursing under my breath. "How the hell do you expect me to get above failing by graduation? It's impossible." I sigh in defeat. I hate studying, listening, reading, anything to do with school. I'm fucking screwed.

Mr.Hancocks mood brightens as he smiles at me. Fuck, he's got some hella cringy plan, I just know it. "It's not as hard as you make it out to be, Blake. You'll need to study more and come to class, of course. And I'm also going to be requiring you to get a tutor to help you out." Told you.

"Haha, yeah... No. Not gonna happen buddy. I don't play well with others."

"I knew you'd say that," he chuckles. "But I already chose your tutor. And it's mandatory that you have at least two sessions each week."

I guess I have no choice. Oh well, how bad can sitting with someone for an hour after school be? "Whos my tutor?" I ask.

"Mikayla Kane."

And with those words, my heart drops. "Fuck no. Anybody but her." I demand, hitting my fists on his desk.

"Calm down Blake. And she is an exceptionally gifted student. Straight A's. Extracurriculars. Besides, I already spoke to her about it, and she's more than willing to help you out." He informs me. Of course she's beyond ecstatic to tutor me. She'll fucking kill me. She has the upper hand, she could refuse to teach me, and let me fail. "She'll be stopping by during your detention today to go over the details. When, where, y'know that kind of stuff."

I groan loudly in response. He laughs, shaking his head. "That will be all, Blake. You may return to class now." He says, turning to the computer on his desk, already typing away.

I wait, glaring at him for a few moments, before going out and slamming the door behind me. The secretary gives me a sympathetic look, then goes back to her papers. I rush out, heading to the bathroom. I lean against the far wall, sliding down the cool tiles until I'm seated on the floor.

My heart is beating so fast, I really need to calm down. I try to take deep breaths, but I choke. It's hard to breath, and my body is so warm. I reach my hand up to my forehead, and it's wet. I'm sweating, and by the looks of it, a lot.

I get up on unateady feet, stumbling over to the sinks where I splash water on my face. I hiss when my fingers brush over the right side of my face. Fuck, I forgot about the cut. I stand there, leaning on the sink, staring at myself in the mirror, trying to catch my breath.

After a while, my breathing and heart rate even out to a somewhat normal pace. I dry off my face, reminding myself over and over that it's no big deal. Like seriously, I'll have to come to school more often, at least do some of the assignments, and get tutored every once in a while. It's not the end of the fucking world.

I let out one last yell, "aaaaAAAAh," before finally relaxing. I pull out the pack of cigarettes and lighter that I keep in my pocket. I take one out, putting it in my mouth. I flick the lighter a few times for it to ingnite, and when it does, I hold it to the cig until it catches, then put it away.

I lean against one of the stalls with my eyes closed, taking a few drags. I don't bother to move when I hear the door open, until a vaguely familiar voice says, "Oh! Sorry, um, I'll go. Wait... Blake?"

Confused, I open my eyes to see a beautiful girl standing in the doorway with one hand on the frame, her head tilted to the side in curiosity.

I furrow my eyebrows, utterly shocked to see her. But seriously, what in the actual fuck is she doing here? "Emory?"

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