Page 11 of Friend
The receptionist took one look at me and shook her head. I didn’t have to say anything before she pressed her finger against the intercom and announced, “Finn is back again. I’ll go ahead and ring him for you.”
I glowered in her direction, but the elderly woman wasn’t even phased. She’d grown immune to these incidents over the years.
A short second passed before Headmistress Roberts’ tired voice sounded through the speakers. “Send him in.”
I didn’t wait for her to respond. I shoved my hands in my pockets and stalked forward, bracing myself for what was sure to be another wonderful lecture from Dad.
Headmistress Roberts didn’t even glance up as I closed the door behind me. “Take a seat,” she said, gesturing to the uncradled phone. “He’s waiting.”
Yeah, sure he was.
Still, I slumped into the worn chair and snatched the black phone off the desk, leaning back until the cord would allow me to go no further.
“What?” I asked.
“Finn Chastity Abernathy.” My father’s voice was heavy with stern disappointment, and I could almost see his disapproving glare as if he was here in front of me. “Why are you still fighting in school?”
“Because people are assholes.” I leaned my head against the chair and watched the ceiling. “And I hate them.”
There was a short pause, and when my father spoke next, the lecture had left his voice slightly. “Be that as it may, you still cannot go beating up people because you don’t like them.”
“Whatever.” I knew he understood, at least a little. He hated everyone too—it was one thing we had in common. But it wasn’t like I could tell himwhyI had such a thing forthiscertain group. In all honesty, I was more than content to just ignore everyone and live my life in peace.
But when someone went after Bianca, I had no choice.
However, he remained in the dark about Bianca’s existence and everything that was transpiring here. It wasn’t my decision, and there wasn’t much I could do about it.
“Have them call Mom again then, and she’ll—”
“No.” My dad sounded pensive. “This is the third time in two weeks. Clearly her punishments are ineffective.” I sat up in my seat, my head spinning at this sudden change in routine. “Damen’s residence is near our sister school, maybe it’s time for you to—”
“I can’t switch schools!” I cut him off, unable to hide the panic in my voice. Headmistress Roberts looked up at that, and I ignored her almost excited gaze. Of course,she’dlove for me to change schools. She thought I drew too much attention, and it would give her a chance to continue her rule of terror without oversight.
But the real reason I couldn’t switch schools, besides the fact that it just wasn’t done, was of course, leaving Bianca.
Besides the two universities, my father also ran two secondary schools, each a short distance from each other. Both were all-level establishments, which meant that everyone stayed in the same class—with the same people—from primary school until graduation. Even homeroom teachers aged with the class.
Even though officers attended the school that the Xing attended, I chose this location instead.
“You can’t make me change schools now,” I argued. “I graduate next year. They won’t even have space in the class.”
He sighed. “Don’t worry about administrative concerns, Iownthe schools. They’ll do what I want. Just think about it, you can even live with Damen during the week. I’m sure he’d love that. It’ll give you two a chance to get to know each other again, and—”
“No!” I protested, my heart racing. “I can’t leave her!” I wanted to take back the words the second I said them, and my fingers tightened over the phone.
Another short pause, and his tone was cautiously happy when he asked, “Who?”
Cotton had filled my mouth, and I did my best to ignore Headmistress Roberts as she rolled her eyes and went back to her paperwork. She, of course, already knew about me and Bianca—or at least the fact that we were friends.
“Finn, do you have a girlfriend? I’m so glad! You’ve always pushed everyone away.” He sounded annoyingly thrilled about this, but at least he forgot about my fight. “How long has this been going on? You should bring her over to dinner.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I mumbled, slinking further in my seat. When was the next time I had to go see him? Next weekend?
He was going to be so obnoxious.
“So—” In fact, it was already starting, his voice already had that tone. It was going to be hell seeing him in person. “—what is she then?”
“A friend,” I said simply. Then realization slammed into me, and I sat forward, my heart lurching. “You can’t tell Damen.”
