Chapter 20

Ruby

Students watch and whisper as the professor ushers me down the hallway and up the massive staircase leading to the headmaster’s office.

“No, please,” I beg, but she won’t listen. I just know that I’m going to be expelled, or worse if what Nancy said about the headmaster was true.

The professor climbs the stairway, not caring for the fact that I’m stumbling and tripping behind her. Once we reach the top, she pushes me ahead of her toward a large wooden door at the end of a long corridor.

“It wasn’t me!” I cry. “Donna started it!”

“You can tell that to the headmaster,” the professor says with a grimace. “See if he’ll believe your lies.”

The professor presses a button next to the large door. Inside, I can hear a doorbell chime followed by the sound of a man cursing and crashing about.

The headmaster swings the door open.

His hair is a bit disheveled and his jacket has been removed to show a white button down and a red vest that looks somewhat comical stretched over his round belly. He peers at the professor over the top of his glasses, then down at me.

“Something the matter?” he says. The professor pushes me toward him.

“Fighting in the hallway,” she says angrily, releasing her grip on me to fold her arms.

“Well then… where’s the other student?”

The professor shoots the headmaster a confused look. “What other student?”

“I’m sure Miss Jones wasn’t fighting a ghost in the hallway. Where is the student she was fighting with?”

“Well, sir… um…” the professor stammers. She looks embarrassed. “I didn’t bring her along. It was clearly this one’s fault.” She jerks her head toward me.

The headmaster sighs, then motions for me to enter. He closes the door before the professor can enter.

The image of the headmaster that Nancy put in my head was much different than what is in front of me now. I suppose I expected nothing but a perfectly polished wooden desk, hard chairs, and maybe a supply of knives to carve up naughty students.

Rather, this room is surprisingly warm and inviting. A fire crackles in the brick fireplace along the left wall, with two tufted armchairs sitting in front of it. In the middle of the room sits a weathered mahogany desk that’s piled high with books and papers.

“Come, sit,” the headmaster says, scurrying his round body over to his desk and taking a seat behind it. He pushes a stack of papers out of the way so that he can see me and gestures for me to sit at the chair across from him. I do as I’m told, and sit in the straight-backed chair with the velvet cushion. It’s surprisingly comfortable.

“Now then, Miss Ruby… Care to explain what happened?” He leans his elbows on the desk, right onto a paper with wet ink on it.

“Um…” I say, raising my finger to point at his now-stained shirt.

He looks down at his shirt confusedly and then lets out a soft “Ack!” as he peels the wet paper from his shirt. “I quite liked that shirt. Now then. You were going to explain what happened?”

I gulp, fiddling with my fingers in my lap.

“Well… I was kicked out of class…”

“What for?”

“I was too distracted. Wasn’t paying attention.”

“Ah. And I assume that being kicked out gave you the perfect opportunity to start a fight?”

The headmaster leans back in his chair and places his hands behind his head nonchalantly. I’m confused by his demeanor, and not sure if this is some sort of tactic to get me to trust him before he expels me.

Just then, there’s a knock on the door. Before the headmaster can answer, the door swings open and in strides… Atwood.

How did he find out so soon?

“Ruby Jones,” Atwood says angrily, storming toward me. “Can you not behave yourself for one day?”

The headmaster stands. “Ah, Lycan Atwood,” he says amicably. “Ruby was just about to tell me her side of the story.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Atwood says through his teeth as his orange eyes pierce through my skull. He grabs my shoulder and starts to leave with me.

“Now, my lord, is this necessary?” the headmaster says. Atwood stops and turns slowly to face the headmaster. I can tell that he’s seething as his grip tightens on my shoulder.

“Ow!” I yelp at Atwood’s tight grip. Upon seeing my pain, he instantly loosens his grip on me and concern takes over his angry face. He wraps his arm around me protectively and pulls me closer, causing my heart to flutter.

“I would rather speak to Ruby privately about this, headmaster,” he says cordially.

The headmaster sighs and walks around the table to approach us with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Atwood,” he says calmly, “you were an excellent student, and I couldn’t be more proud of your accomplishments as King. But please don’t forget that this is my school, and I am the one who doles out the punishments here.”

I shiver a bit at the headmaster’s words. Is he going to expel me? Make me write my name a thousand times? Hit me with a ruler until my knuckles bleed?

The headmaster looks down at me. His face looks kind, but stern.

“Your performance has been lacking since you arrived,” he says, “but I’ve never considered myself to be an unfair man. Return tomorrow and explain exactly what happened so that I may consider a reasonable punishment. After you’ve spoken with Atwood, of course.”

I nod shyly, looking down at my feet.

When I look back up, I find myself standing in Atwood’s study. He must have teleported us.

He holds me by both shoulders, much more gently this time, and looks down at me. There is still some fire in his eyes, but he looks as though he’s calmed down a bit more. Maybe the headmaster’s words calmed him, or maybe he feels bad for hurting me.

“Tardiness, drunkenness, and now this? God, Ruby, you’ve only been attending this school for three days! It’s like you’re trying to get pulled out of school!”

He drops my shoulders and storms away from me, clenching and unclenching his fists as he does so. Then, he drops his shoulders wearily and runs his hand through his hair, turning back to look at me.

“You have to apologize to the other student,” he says.

I can feel my anger bubbling up inside. The same feeling as the one before returns, as though something foreign is inside of me and trying to claw its way out.

“I won’t apologize,” I say with a snarl, feeling my face grow hot with anger.

Atwood looks surprised. His frown deepens.

“You will listen to me, or you will be sent back to your backwater village to scrape together pennies for yourself and your sister! Is that what you want? To live in the muck?”

My eyes widen. The anger inside of me stirs even more, and I begin to do something that feels entirely new to me.

I growl and storm toward Atwood with my fists clenched, causing him to look even more surprised.

“I will listen?” I shout. “How about you listen for once? This whole time, you’ve been treating me like I’m nothing more than a bad student, and you don’t even know the full story!” Another growl escapes my lips and I take a step closer. “I won’t apologize to her. Not now, not ever.”

Atwood looks at me incredulously. The silence grows, and my anger begins to diminish.

The tears spill out and I begin to sob.