Miren could pretend that she didn't know how this was going to turn out, but she wasn't a fool. So she kept to her usual silence, hoping that maybe, just maybe, as they walked, Headmistress Castro would see her as the polite, intelligent, non-confrontational girl that she was.
Not a homicidal maniac.
As the principal marched before her, Miren limped slightly. Pain surged to her brain every time her foot made contact with the floor. She fondled with her broken necklace to distract herself, but it wasn't even sort of distracting.
Chills were beginning to replace the adrenaline from the battle, but she felt no true shame. Maybe she was doomed; maybe the principal (like everyone else) didn't care about what she had endured. If they did...if only someone had cared enough to even sort of put Pen-hell-ope in her place, then she wouldn't be in this situation. And she had never been in this kind of trouble before.
Ignoring her broken necklace, she focused her fleeting attention on the navy colored walls with posters of education slogans such as 'Keep Calm and Study On' or 'It's Your Turn to Learn!'. She rolled her eyes. Despite the fact that she did well academically in school, she didn't care for it. It was just a glorified jail. And now she was getting her prison sentence.
Will I ever have peace here? Before she could give the idea much thought, the headmistress stopped abruptly in front of the main office area. As Miren looked up, irritation glazed over her eyes. Can we please just get this over with?
On a gray and maroon stripped wall was a large, painted portrait of St. Rosemunde's founder.
"Miss Eze," she called out of nowhere, her aged brown eyes piercing through the picture. "Do you think that St. Ramona Caverna would condone your behavior?"
If she did, I wouldn't be here, now would I? she felt the urge to retort. When the headmistress began to tap her foot impatiently for a response, Miren sighed. "No madam," she reluctantly agreed before following her into her office.
Once inside, the principal motioned for her to sit down before taking a seat in her leather office chair. She rested her thin arms on the table as she interlocked her fingers, narrowing her eyes at Miren.
"I must say, Miss Eze, I never thought I'd have to see you under these circumstances."
Miren nodded slowly. It was true. The only time she met with the headmistress was for bi-semester meetings about maintaining her scholarship. Usually followed by a pat on the back.
"I'm sorry," Miren said with a sigh. "It was foolish for me to engage in that type of behavior." Even if I was provoked. She tried to maintain a trouble deposition by pouting her lips. Pity Points. "I feel awful," she continued, crossing a hand over her heart. "I truly do."
Lie.
The headmistress relaxed in her chair. "Look. I understand teen angst. I have a couple of teenagers of my own." She motioned to a family portrait on her desk. "But this is a Catholic school. A zero tolerance school."
Miren's heart skipped. That was where the real problem stemmed. At any other school, a first offense like this would have granted her a couple days of suspension and a referral to the school psychologist. Here? It was harder to tell. The only legitimate fight she had ever witnessed was the one she had just partaken in...
She looked at the woman sincerely. "I know. But my record is otherwise spotless. I mean, I'm a scholarship student. That has to count for something, right?"
Dr. Castro shook her head. "That's exactly why I expect more from you." Miren slumped against her chair, feeling stickier than she had before. So much for getting off easy...
"Miss Eze, you fail to see the seriousness of this situation." She fixed her gaze on the girl. "You're fortunate that I haven't threatened to take away your scholarship."
Miren shifted from her chair, her mouth parting in shock. She hadn't even considered that. But if she wasn't taking away that...Miren was terrified of the alternative.
"Do you recall the academy's mission statement?"
She nodded, although not sure where she was going with this. "True humanitarians are protective intellectuals."
The headmistress drummed her fingers against her desk. "So tell me. Did you do the smart thing today?"
Miren bit the inside of her cheek before shrugging. "Depends how you define smart."
"Don't toy with me, Miss Eze."
She scratched her head. Who said I was toying? "I was provoked by Penelope. Earlier this morning she had one of her friend's splash diet coke on me, which she does on practically a daily basis. Ask Chara Tachibana. I had to switch clothes with her this morning, which was why I was running late. And guess what I was doused with at the assembly?" Miren motioned to her form, her wet blouse that was slightly tainted brown. "Diet coke."
"Interesting deduction, but I'm afraid that is not irrefutable evidence that Penelope was involved. For all we know, some of the boys at Rinzen may be responsible," she offered, brushing a hand through her slick, black hair. "You know what horrible tricksters they are."
"I know my claim may seem far-fetched, but that's exactly why you should also be interrogating Penelope. She's not the girl she's led everyone to believe she is."
The headmistress raised an eyebrow. "If that's the case, I could say the same for you."
Miren sucked in a breath; she could feel this encounter growing stale. In fact, it was probably stale long before it started. Penelope's family was loadedâher mother had apparently single-handedly paid for the fountain of their founder in the courtyard, and like several other student's parents, was sponsoring everything that represented the school, from her ruined uniform to Dr. Castro and her over-bloated salary.
"You can go ahead and tell me my punishment," Miren said, balling her hands into fists on her knees. "I'm sure I've disgraced myself enough."
The headmistress pursed her lips, not quite satisfied with her self-pitying response. "Look, I know high school is rough. As faculty, we do our best to provide a comfortable learning environment. We want all our students who leave here to have a humanitarian's spiritâto have a strong moral code that will guide them wherever they go. What happened to you was unfortunate. But I promise that we will seek out the perpetrators, and seek the highest form of justice for both you and Penelope."
Miren closed her eyes. That was the buzzer word. Penelope. The devil that had tempted her, and she had succumbed when she was one foot out of the door. And for that, she didn't know if she hated Penelope or herself more.
"What if the true 'perpetrator' is the one playing victimâthe daughter of the woman who pays for my scholarship?" She glared at her principal. "Would you really be willing to fight for me then?"
There was a twitch in the woman's left eye. It was a quick, subtle gestureâso quick that Miren was surprised she saw it, so slight that the headmistress probably didn't even feel it.
Miren sighed. Exactly.
Headmistress Castro was as much of a puppet as Miren was. She was damned when she did, especially damned when she didn't. Sure, she could have held her tongue, but down it hard enough to sever itâswallow it and never speak about what was happening to her. But if it weren't this, it would be something else. Something worse.
And she had already had enough.
"Fortunately for you, I will not be taking away your scholarship." Dr. Castro readjusted the collar of her blazer. "But a week-long suspension will be in order. And you will have to apologize to both Ms. Higgins and Miss van Helsing."
Miren's brain was screaming bloody murder. Was she to feel fortunate about this? With wide eyes she tried to process the woman's cruel but reasonable words. She tried to see the ruling from a headmistress' perspective, but it wasn't even remotely possible. Not with everything at stake.
She'd fall behind. Miss her debate tournament final. Forfeit her title as captain.
Then she'd have to apologize. To the very person who put her in this situation.
Miren's brain stopped shrieking long enough to remind her to breathe. But when she inhaled, exhaled deeply, she didn't feel better. The air was toxic, and she should have let it suffocate her.
"I'm sorry, but you've left me no choice." Headmistress Castro wasn't sorry. And of course she had choices.
Miren could barely hide her scowl, could barely blink away the tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. But she refused to let them fall. To be effected. At least she didn't take away myâ
"As for your Rising Scholar Award, unfortunately it's under Ms. Higgins' discretion whether you keep it or not. But I will strongly encourage her to give it to the next qualified candidate." She flicked something out of her nails. "We already bought a plaque, but we still need to order the names to go on them. But I can assure you that it is highly likely that yours will not be on it." It was heart wrenching how straightforward Dr. Castro sounded. It was like she had calmly written her words into existence, and whether or not Miren actually intervened, they would become law.
Miren was too numb to process her announcement. So she shrugged even though her brain was still yelling obscenities. "Who's the runner up?"
She could live (ok, just barely survive) if it was Artemis. She wasn't pure evil, and seemed to humor Penelope more than fawn over her like everyone else. Artemis was a studious girl, and she appeared kind, even if Miren's evaluation was coming from afar. But the room was too silent for too long. The headmistress wasn't a hesitant woman, which could only mean thatâ
"I know that the world isn't fair," Miren began, her voice practically shaking, "But if you have a single shred of the humanity you seem so adamant about preaching, then you won't do thatâyou can't want that. "
But it didn't matter what the headmistress wanted. What mattered was keeping the school in order. Keeping her job. And that meant keeping Penelope as happy as possible wherever she could realistically intervene.
Miren met the woman's eyes. Her gaze was unflinching, impossible to reason with. So why was Miren still here? She rose from her chair, and only then did she remember that she was still soaked. Her principal didn't even have the decency to allow her to change before telling her that everything she worked for was for nothing. She shook her head, feeling her anger radiate off of her form.
"I'm honestly sorry for my actions and for shaming St. Rosemunde's. But the school has also shamed me. So I'm done." She picked up her backpack. "Goodbye."
"I did not give you permission to leave."
Miren's back was to Headmistress Castro. Tears were already trailing down her face; she couldn't turn back. Maybe it was her pride. She knew it always came before you fell. But she had already fallen. And this school had a foot on her throat.
"I know," she agreed, stepping out of the door. "I did."