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worked.
Of course. I didn't think the dean would be physical with me, but this was the first time I had ever been sent out of class for disciplinary actions. and I was frightened, not only of what would happen to me but also of the effect it would have on my parents. Mama didn't need an ounce more grief, and here I was about to give a pound of it to her. And Daddy certainly didn't need another reason to be mean these days.
The dean's secretary told me to sit and wait when I informed her I had been sent out of class. Minutes later, one of my classmates. Peggy Ann Harkin, arrived with the referral form Mr. Leshman had filled out about me. She smiled with glee when she handed it to the secretary.
"Leave your body to science," she whispered as she walked past me and out the door.
The door to the dean's office was closed. I tried not to act frightened or upset. I really didn't
understand why Mr. Leshman had gotten so any at me. Other students in his class had done worse things and not been sent out. He had just taken my response the wrong way. I didn't mean to be insubordinate, which was surely what I was being accused of doing. I rehearsed my defense and waited, my heart thumping.
The dean's door finally opened, and a boy named David Peet stepped out with his head down, his shoulders turned forward and inward. He was a redheaded boy in the junior class and recently had been removed from the boys' basketball squad for vandalism at an opponent's school. He damaged lockers after a game. I didn't know what new offense he had committed.
The dean handed his secretary a slip of paper that looked like a parking ticket.
"Mr. Peet will wait here for his father to pick him up." he told her. "Put this in his file, if there's any room left," he added. He turned to David. "Sit down, and keep your mouth shut. I don't want to so much as hear you breathe too loudly."
David glanced at me and sat, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor.
The dean picked up my referral and, without looking at it, gestured to indicate I was to go into his office. I rose and walked into it. He closed the door behind himself and went around to his desk.
"Sit," he commanded. He then read the referral and smirked. I wasn't sure if he was disgusted with me or with the referral. He looked up at me and sat back,
"Okay," he said. "Let's hear your side of this."
"I didn't mean to be insubordinate. I didn't hear the question, and he thought I was being disrespectful, I guess."
"You think Mr. Leshman doesn't know when a student is being a smart-ass in his class? He's been teaching here twenty-five years. I would say he's seen just about everything."
"I didn't mean to be disrespectful," I said. "I've never been in trouble in class."
"There's always a first time. Showing off for someone, a boy perhaps?"
"No," I said quickly.
He leaned forward and clasped his big hands. "I know how that can be," he said suddenly in a softer, almost kind tone of voice. "Someone eggs you on, and you get in trouble for it. That what happened?"
"No. No one egged me on or anything. I was just..."
"What?"
"I was just thinking about something else and didn't hear him."
He stared hard at me and then glanced at the referral. "He asked you the same question a number of times, and you ignored him."
"Not because I wanted to. I was... thinking about something else.
"What?"
"Something personal," I replied.
He sat back, and the phone rang. Practically lunging for it, he lifted the receiver.
"What? Why am I being interrupted?" He listened a moment. "I'll be right there. Don't let anyone out of the bathroom."
He hung up the receiver and stood up. I thought he would rise into the ceiling.
"You can spend today in after-school detention thinking about whatever it was you were thinking about that was personal, and writing an apology to Ms. Leshman. I want to see it on my desk before you leave the building. The detention teacher will bring it in to me. You come back here again, and I'll lose my temper," he said. "Now, go