Say You Won't Let Go

Her Marks

I make my way down to the main office, dragging my feet behind me and gripping the straps of my backpack tightly. I know I shouldn't have punched him, but how could I have helped it? It was being absolutely unacceptable to my friend.

I feel a lot of guilt, though. What if they expel me? No, they can't. I haven't done anything wrong before.

My footsteps echo in the empty hallways, running up the walls and yelling back at me. I could still be at my lunch table if I wouldn't have punched Austin.

But it felt so good.

He is the most self-centered person I have ever met. He thinks he has all the girls wrapped around his nasty fingers. He's wrong. He thinks he knows everything about everyone. I hate it.

I push open the main office's door, dropping my eyes to the ground immediately in shame.

"Miss Cabello?" The lady sitting at the larger desk a wall away from the door says softly, waving once.

"Yes?" I ask, taking a deep breath.

"Please come over here." The lady smiles slowly, tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear.

I nod, walking over to her desk. She gestures to a chair in front of the wooden desk. I sit down in it, reluctantly lifting my eyes to meet her gray eyes.

"Hello, I'm Mrs. Marsh: the principal." Mrs. Marsh addresses herself, pulling a pen out from behind her ear. "And Brad Simpson was walking by when he saw the scene. Mind telling me about that?"

Ugh, stupid Brad. He is in my gym class.

"I punched Austin." I shrug, telling the truth. "But I had good reason for it."

"What is good reason for violence, Miss Cabello?" Mrs. Marsh lifts an eyebrow, her pink lips pursing themselves.

"Well, none. But let me explain." I plead, clasping my hands together.

"Of course." She dips her head to me.

"He was completely belittling my friend. He was calling her unacceptable words and phrases and just awful things. Teasing her about her sexuality, real or fake, and making her feel so small. Making me uncomfortable by sexualizing my body. So, I punched him. And, I know, it isn't okay to use violence. But I couldn't help it." I explain, feeling my blood boil just by repeating it.

"I see. Who is this friend?" Mrs. Marsh asks softly, meeting my eyes.

A million thoughts and opinions rush through my brain, melting my brain cells and weaving through my veins. Should I tell Mrs. Marsh who my friend is? I don't want Lauren getting anymore unwanted attention.

"I don't think she would appreciate me telling you." I finally cough out. Mrs. Marsh seems surprised, tilting her head up slightly. It's intimidating.

"Alright. It is Mr. Mahone who you punched, correct?" Mrs. Marsh inquires, clicking the pen to reveal the ink.

"Yes." I nod, my palms growing sweaty. She scribbles down something before clicking back the pen and placing it behind her ear.

Mrs. Marsh doesn't seem that old; maybe around 25 years of age. Her skin is a light tan color and her jaw is square. She then blinks her long eyelashes, her gray eyes boring into mine.

"Because of your honest words and your spotless background, you won't get detention this time. But next time, don't plan on getting off the hook so easily." Mrs. Marsh says sternly.

"I can be messy, yeah, I admit it. But I won't do this again." I promise, hearing the bell ring in the faint background. Science has already started.