Page 75 of Breaking Rules
I smiled at my handsome boyfriend. “That’s sweet. But I can handle myself. Go back to class. You’re my partner, so you need to take notes.”
He bit his lip, seemingly struggling with what to do. “I swear, if Ferris is behind this…”
“Train, you have your scholarship to think about. Don’t do something stupid. Besides, we don’t have the facts. The principal probably wants to see me for something else.” I highly doubted that. I pushed him. “Go.”
“Montana, you need support, baby.”
I wanted to cry at how caring and protective he was. “Thank you, but I got this. I’ll text you when I know something.”
“Promise?” he asked.
I nodded.
We locked lips for a quickie, then he went back to class.
My sandals slapped along the floor, the sound echoing in the deserted halls. I knew Principal Flynn wanted to talk to me about the graffiti on the wall. What I didn’t know was who the guilty party was. I’d taken a different route to the admin wing. I didn’t want to see that wall again. But when I rounded the corner, I also didn’t expect or want to see my mom sitting in a chair just inside the admin office, reading something on her phone. I gulped down air.Nothing to be afraid of. You’re innocent.Even so, I had work to do to convince my mom I didn’t do anything wrong. After all, she knew I loved to tag, and she knew my signature.
The admin wing was an open floor plan of cubicles that sat in the middle with offices surrounding them on two sides. A counter headlined the wing with a sitting area for guests on the left and mailboxes on the right for teachers.
Mom lifted her gaze when I entered. I couldn’t tell if she was surprised, angry, or indifferent. I nodded to Ms. Jones, one of the admin assistants, who was depositing mail into the teacher’s slots.
She returned the gesture with a flick of her black hair. “Mr. Flynn will be with you in a moment.” Then she resumed her task.
“Do you want to tell me what I’m doing here?” Mom asked in a low and hard tone. “Because I saw something on the wall on my way in here.”
“That wasn’t me,” I said.
“Thatisyour signature,” she returned with her mean-mom face.
Before I had a chance to say another word, Principal Flynn stalked out of his corner office. He was a hard man to miss since he stood about six eight with his large belly poking out.
I tried to read his stony expression, but I was coming up empty.
My mom rose, securing her purse on her shoulder before she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I swear, Montana.”
I was swearing under my breath.
Principal Flynn fixated on my mom. I almost rolled my eyes. She had an effect on men that always made them do double takes. She was beautiful, but I didn’t care to witness men drooling over her.
She smoothed a hand down her crisp black knee-length skirt.
Maybe the principal was into her long, tanned legs, or maybe he was into boobs. Like me, Mom certainly had a rack on her.
Principal Flynn extended his hand. “Mrs. Smith, I presume.”
I had the urge to snap my fingers as if to say, “I’m over here.”
“Please, call me Georgia,” Mom said, not correcting him that she was a Ms. and not a Mrs.
Small talk between them ensued as we followed the principal into his office. I tuned them out as I texted Train that I was going into the principal’s office now.
Principal Flynn waved his hand at the two chairs in front of his glass-topped desk. The office was rather cozy with bookcases, filing cabinets, and plants giving life to the room.
He folded his bulk into his chair as he combed a hand over his dark hair. “I called you both in because it has come to my attention, Montana, that you could be responsible for the graffiti on the boys’ locker room door and also the recent artwork on the wall down the hall from the admin offices.”
I straightened. “I already told you, sir. I didn’t tag the locker room door.”
Mom crossed one leg over the other and began wiggling her foot back and forth. She’d always had that tell when she was stewing or thinking.
