“Okay. I’m done here.”
He got to his feet and looked at Alex.
“Hey, kid.”
Alex picked up his head. His eyes were red.
“Yeah?” he sniffled.
“Yes,” the officer said. “Yes, sir.”
Alex sat up a little straighter.
“Yes, sir.”
“If you ever waste my time like this again,” Langley said, stabbing his finger toward Alex, “if I get called down here because you’ve been in a fight, or skipped class, or got caught selling so much as a Tic Tac, I am going to make your life fifty kinds of miserable, got that?” Alex nodded. “Good. And by the way, don’t you ever yell at your mother like that again. Understand?”
“She’s my stepmother.”
Officer Langley gripped the top of his billy club and glared.
“Sorry, sir. Yes, sir.”
“That’s better.”
Officer Langley left the room. Mrs. Lott heaved a sigh and closed her eyes. The expression on her face said she was seriously reconsidering her career choice.
“All right,” she said finally. “Alex, I’m glad that we don’t have to involve the police, but you are still in a lot of trouble. The fact that you weren’t selling actual drugs doesn’t negate the fact that you were trying to pass them off as such. Plus, you were attempting to trick a fellow student, and you were late for class. And you have wasted the time of every adult in this room.
“So, if you think you’re off the hook, think again. You are going to be punished for this.” She furrowed her brow. “I just have to figure out how.”
Mr. Smith cleared his throat. “Mrs. Lott, could I speak with you for a moment?”
“Sure. Excuse us.”
The two educators went out into the outer office, leaving me alone with Alex. He looked so miserable that I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“Really, Alex, what were you thinking?”
“I don’t know. It was stupid. I needed money.”
“For what?”
Alex opened his mouth and closed it again, a couple of times, as if he couldn’t quite make up his mind to tell me or not. But, finally, he did.
“There’s this girl—Gwen Mikesell. She’s gorgeous. She’s perfect. But she doesn’t know I’m alive. So I thought . . . I thought if I could get her something amazing for Valentine’s Day, like have a dozen roses delivered to her at school, she might . . . You know. Notice me.”
“You needed money to send flowers to a girl? Why didn’t you just ask me?”
Alex let out a disbelieving huff of air. “You’d have just said no.”
I wished I could have argued the point, but Alex was absolutely right. If he’d asked me for money to impress a girl, I’d have said no. Not because I would have necessarily objected to the request, especially if he would have explained his feelings exactly like he had a moment before.
That poor, dumb, rotten kid. He must be in love. Which, of course, meant he was in agony. In my limited experience, the two generally go hand in hand.
But Alex was right, if he had asked me for money for roses, or anything else, I would have said no. When it came to Alex, no was my default response.
No wonder he hated me.
Mr. Smith and Mrs. Lott came back into the conference room and sat down. The principal folded her hands on top of the table, fixing Alex in her gaze.
“Alex, I cannot impress upon you enough how very, very close you’ve come to being expelled today, or how closely I am going to be watching your behavior in the future. If you put one foot wrong for the rest of the year, I will have no hesitation about kicking you out of this school. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I twitched. I couldn’t help myself. I’d never before heard the word ma’am come out of Alex’s mouth, nor heard him speak in such a polite tone of voice.
“However, Mr. Smith has convinced me to give you ten days of suspension and a second chance. During that time, besides keeping up with your regular assignments, you will write a ten-page paper on why deception is wrong. You will also write a note of apology to Officer Langley for wasting his time, and to Mike for getting him into trouble. And, before you ask, yes, I am still suspending him—what matters isn’t what he purchased but what he intended to purchase.
“And, Alex,” she said, taking off her glasses, “if I were you, I’d steer clear of Mike from here on out. For all the hot water you’re in at this moment, you don’t really seem like a kid who’s bent on a life of crime. I can’t say the same of Mike.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Also, you will write one more letter, to your stepmother, apologizing for stealing her . . . herbs.” Mrs. Lott looked at me. “I’m sure this goes without saying, but all of these assignments will be completed with careful attention to grammar, punctuation, spelling, and sincerity. Mr. Smith will check them. If he finds them lacking in any way, you’ll do them again. Understand?”
Alex bobbed his head.
“Finally, I have asked Mr. Smith to serve as your faculty advisor for the rest of the year. Once you return to school, you’ll meet with him once a week.”
“Really?”
Alex looked toward his coach and smiled. Mr. Smith didn’t smile back, but I had the feeling he wanted to. Everyone got up from the table.
“Mrs. Lott?” Alex cleared his throat and ducked his head. “I’m sorry. Really.”
“I hope so, Alex. Because you won’t get a second, second chance. Now go home. We’ll see you in two weeks.”
We stopped by Alex’s locker to pick up his books and then got into the car. The bell rang for lunch. Seconds later, the sidewalks were packed with laughing, yelling, jostling teenagers.
“Wow. This feels weird,” Alex said, watching the crowd he was exiled from for the next two weeks. “What am I supposed to do now?”
That was a good question. The easiest
