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I zipped over to Taco Bell real quick and made it back just after school had let out. As I was pulling up to the front of the school, I saw Jason in his truck. He looked like a lost puppy but perked up when we made eye contact and he pulled his truck behind mine. As we both got out, I lowered my tailgate to give us a place to sit.
"Where the fuck have you been?" Jason asked.
"It's nice to see you too," I replied with a smile looking into the scanning eyes of Jason. "Shit hit the fan in 4th period and I've been dealing with it since just before lunch."
"I knew something had to have happened but no one would tell me anything. I came into the office near the end of lunch but all Linda would say is that she could not discuss anything with me." Jason explained.
"Had you raised your voice a little bit I would have probably heard you. I was in another part of the office at that time. I would have come to you if I knew you were there." I said.
"So what are you doing now?" Jason asked.
"Having a late lunch before I go back inside and finish this shit up." I said as I took a bite of my quesadilla.
"Finish what shit up?" Jason prodded.
I proceeded to tell Jason the story from 4th period through the time he found me after school. I also managed to finish my lunch and took a napkin to clean up. I gave it to Jason and asked him if I missed a spot. He took the napkin and leaned in and gave me a quick kiss. "There, now you are clean and I am a little hungry," as he wiped my lips after the kiss.
I stood up followed by Jason closing the tailgate as he followed me to the office. We walked inside and took a seat as I looked at Linda to let her know I was back for the rest of the crap. She phoned Mr. D's secretary to let her know I was back and she soon appeared around the corner to have me follow her back. Jason stood with me and started to follow, "Oh I'm sorry Mr. Bedford, you can not come back here. You will either need to wait for Steven out front or see him later," the secretary stated.
Jason stopped and I turned back to look at him. He wanted so badly to remain with me but I knew that the school was trying to minimize exposure of what happened to the student body. I took Jason's hand in mine and looked at him. "Why don't you go home or to my house and wait there. I don't know how long this will take but I will come find you when I am done," I said squeezing his hand.
Jason nodded, squeezing my hand as well. He walked outside as I held up a finger to the secretary asking for just another moment. I stuck my head out the front door and hissed, "Jason! I love you." Jason smiled and returned the affectionate gesture as he walked to his truck with a little skip in his step. I returned to the secretary and we made our way back to Mr. D's office. She knocked on the door and stuck her head in, "He's back sir."
"Send him in." Mr. D's voice echoed. I walked in to see Mr. D, my dad and a very shocked look on Ms. Rocco's face as I entered. I had no idea of what had happened over the past half hour but her facial expression said that she was shocked I was still here and seemed to be in good spirits. Truth be told, even though I just got to spend some time with Jason, my spirits were not as good as I let on. I was still angry and wanted to just unload on this bitch.
"Steven, have a seat." Mr. D instructed. "We just finished with the students and were just about to start in here with Ms. Rocco about what happened today. Ms. Rocco, would you like to amend your report of the events that transpired today between yourself and Mr. Williams?"
"Are you calling me a liar?" Ms. Rocco asked.
"Actually, I am. I have spoken with the students Steven listed as witnesses to what happened in class today. I have also spoken with the students you referenced when you called. All of them supported Steven's sequence of events including statements made by the two of you and statements or actions you reported that were untrue and did not happen. I also have it on good authority that you promised to give the students you had initially corroborate your story special consideration with their final grades." Mr. D spoke calmly.
"Those twerps lied. They all hate teachers and will say anything to make us look bad." an angered Ms. Rocco sounded off.
"So are you saying that ten of your students in 4th period all concocted the same story to make you look bad?" Mr. D asked.
"Yes I am!"
"We can summon the other students from your class, do you think they will give a widely varied account of what happened? I think not but if you are insistent upon it, we can find out but I will also need to inform the district office and school board and enlist their assistance in this matter making it possible for anything to happen to the students or liekwise yourself."
"No." Ms. Rocco submitted. "I was angry at Mr. Williams and hyped up the situation. He did not threaten me or call me any names. He did flip me off and left without permission."
"Very well. Do you still think someone wrote his paper for him?" Mr. D sat back.
"Yes I do."
"Can you prove it?"
"I don't need to prove it. It's obvious that he received unfair assistance."
"Why do you feel that way?
"He has never written a paper in my class higher than a 'C' average. Then miraculously turns in an 'A' paper that is similarly written to another student in honors English? You'd have to be a moron to believe that he could suddenly be on the ball with one assignment. I see no other explanation than plagiarism of another student's work."
Mr. D and Ms. Rocco went back and forth like this for a good five minutes. It was nice to just sit back, watch her squirm and come up with answers that made her look like a fool. All of a sudden she said something that I will never forget.
"He was probably sucking on his boyfriend's dick the entire time his paper was being written. That other faggot isn't in my class but this one is and I am justified in grading his work as I see fit."
Mr. D rose from his chair, leaned over his desk and stared into the stone face of the cow across from him, "Gather you belongings and go home. Do not worry about returning tomorrow. Someone from the district will be in contact with you about your suspension. I am moving for immediate termination but at the very least removal from this school. Get your ass out now!"
Mr. D was almost foaming at the mouth as she gathered her things and left his office. I was shocked she said that. Part of me wanted to run after her and slap her up a bit but my legs were not responding as the look on my face was in disbelief. My dad pulled me back to reality.
"Steven, did you hear Mr. D?"
"No, I'm sorry can you repeat it?" I apologized.
"I said I am sorry that you heard that and that I will fight for her removal. I am also going to assign another English teacher to review your work thus far and assess your work to see if you are writing at a 'C' level or if she was grading you down based upon her discrimination of you."
"Thank you sir." It was all I could muster at the moment.
"Bryan, take Steven home and let him rest. I am sure this is not good for his recovery to be going through this right now. I am going to call the superintendent and have him come over. I will also need you back here as soon as you can to give your witness statement of events." Mr. D suggested.
My dad rose and put an arm around me as we walked out of the office. As we stepped outside and the cool air hit us, it was like a slap to the face that perked me right up. Jason was still here, sitting in his truck listening to music. I asked my dad if Jason could take me so he could do what he had to do here at the school. He smiled and agreed that Jason could give me 100% attention and support. I gave him a hug and walked over to Jason's truck. He didn't notice me and was startled as I opened the passenger door and climbed in.
"You scared the shit out of me! What happened?" Jason asked.
"Let's go home, I'll tell you in a bit. I'm exhausted." I replied.
Jason started up his truck and headed for his house.
Thank you to my readers and stay tuned for the next chapter to appear shortly. All comments are welcome, please no flames. Send to firstname.lastname@example.org