Chapter 2
Lily
S hivers go down my spine as I sit on the wooden bench outside of the principal’s office.
My spine curves as my shoulders slump on themselves because despite the fact that I’m eighteen, somehow I’ve been reduced to feeling about six years old.
I’m basically a child right now, with no control of what happens next at all.
Even worse, no one’s had the courtesy to tell me what’s going on.
Coach Goni towed me into the main office and pointed to this bench before snarling, “Sit.” Then, he disappeared behind the half-door, and I haven’t heard anything since.
The principal’s secretary continues tapping at her computer like nothing’s wrong, and random people breeze in and out with barely a look my way.
The people who do see me stop and stare because I look like a deranged clown.
My hair’s a rat’s nest, my clothing’s askew, and there are splatters of paint covering me from head to toe.
Even worse, my period’s still going, and I don’t have a pad.
I only hope that I’m not leaving a wet red mark on the bench.
“Excuse me,” I say in a hesitant voice to the principal’s secretary. “Um, would you happen to have a sanitary pad?” I ask in an embarrassed whisper. “I think my period’s here. Or rather, it’s definitely here, and I don’t want to dirty the furniture.”
The middle-aged woman peers at me over her glasses, eyeing me up and down. She’s got her grayish-brown hair up in a bun, like she wants to give off the vibe of “sexy librarian” but instead is giving off the vibe of “disheveled and overworked admin.”
“Fine,” she says in a bored tone while snapping her gum. She fumbles in her purse before handing me a sanitary pad. “Come right back, young lady. Principal Pontillo doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
I nod hurriedly, but inside, my mind seethes. The principal’s already kept me waiting for over an hour! Seriously, the bad manners of these people are unbelievable.
But I steal away to the women’s bathroom.
Fortunately, it’s empty and I let out a sigh of relief before locking myself in one of the stalls.
Then, I do my business and maxi-pad firmly in place, I exit the stall before washing my hands.
A glimpse of my image makes me grimace. My brown curls are matted and gross, daubed with paint here and there.
There are dirt streaks on my face, and of course, my clothes are torn and streaked with a multitude of colors.
I turn in the mirror and sigh with relief.
At least my period stain isn’t apparent.
Or rather, it is, but you can’t tell its origin.
Relieved, I tiptoe back to the principal’s office, only to be greeted by the gum-snapping secretary.
“He’s ready,” she announces with a jerk of her head. “In there.”
Taking a deep breath, I collect myself before pushing open the heavy wooden door.
“Hi, Principal Pontillo,” I greet with a sassy smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting—”
But that’s when the air whooshes out of my lungs because there’s a man in the office whom I expected, and who always makes me melt. It’s my stepfather, Lionel, and the alpha male looks angry. He’s more than angry, actually. He’s glowering at me, his handsome mien twisted in a mask of rage.
“I was called out of an important meeting to address your delinquency, Lily,” Lionel says in a clipped tone, his blue eyes icy. “Sit down, because you have some explaining to do.”