There are two hundred and thirty-three tiles that make up the ceiling in Mr. Bigby's office. Lucas, a frequent visitor to the Principal's office, had started counting them the first time he was sent there after talking back to the jerk of an algebra teacher he had freshman year. It took three separate occasions altogether for him to get the final count, and another two to make sure he didn't count wrong. To be honest, Lucas considered finding out the exact number of tiles the ceiling was made of to be one of his finest accomplishments his first year in high school. It takes a lot of effort to zone out Mr. Bigby when he was talking and count accurately. Take that Mr. La Rue, he can indeed focus on something if he wanted to.

Another fine accomplishment Lucas was successful in upon entering the double doors of Abigail Adams High School three years ago, was making sure everyone knew up front he was not someone to be messed with. As Lucas learned pretty early in his life, it was a dog-eat-dog world out there and he refused to be anyone's bitch. He already got screwed over once before, he does not need a repeat performance.

"Mr. Friar, are you even paying attention to me?" Lucas turned his attention away from the office's ceiling and his thoughts, and put on a disinterested look on his face.

From the expression on Mr. Bigby's face, he was not amused in the slightest. "Mr. Friar, I don't think you understand the severity of your actions."

"And I'm sure you're going to explain it to me then." Lucas said, sarcastically.

Mr. Bigby's face became more taunt than a drawn bow string being pulled past its elasticity limit from Lucas's careless attitude. "You were caught drinking on school grounds, decided to vandalize the school gym, and in the process hurt a fellow classmate leaving him in the hospital. Almost getting arrested doesn't bother you?"

"Not particularly." Lucas replied, playing around with the crutch across his lap.

"Well, what about the fact that your classmate is still in the hospital, recovering from an 'accidental' fall last night? How does that make you feel?" Mr. Bigby asked him in a stern voice.

It took a lot for Lucas to stay emotionless at the air quotes that were applied before and after the word "accidental", but he did. Okay, so maybe he did feel a twinge of guilt for what happened to David Richards. But no one made David meet up with the crew yesterday for the initiation. Although, even Lucas can admit that pushing the ladder when David was on it to teepee the barristers was a douche move. However, how could Lucas have known that the kid wouldn't have been able to hold his balance like the rest of them did when they had to do the same task for their initiation? So really, it should be said it wasn't even Lucas's fault to begin with. Besides, he was the one that caught David when he fell, and Lucas was the one that got his foot sprained for his trouble. Which was why he was the only one to get caught by the security guard while the rest of the crew ran away. Lucas saved David's ass, and now he was getting in trouble for it. Where is the justice in that?

Seeing that he wasn't getting any form of response from his student, Mr. Bigby heaved a huge sigh in annoyance. "You know, the school board has been pushing me to punish disruptive and problem students more harshly. They want to see you face the consequences of your actions, and they want to make sure that I deal with you the way they want me to."

"So what? What are you going to do? Expel me?" Lucas scoffed in defiance.

Mr. Bigby smiled ruefully. "Not yet." He replied simply. Despite his uninterested behavior, Lucas still felt the traitorous feeling of relief from those two words. His mother was already disappointed and heartbroken enough due to him. Finally getting expelled might just nail the fact home that she had done a horrible job raising him. And that is something, regardless of all the shit he gets into and does on a daily basis, he never wants her to feel. She tried her best on her own for the past five years. It isn't her fault that her son is hopeless cause.

"Instead," Mr. Bigby continued, "You will be helping the janitorial staff clean up after school for the rest of the year, you will spend your Saturday mornings tutoring students at your old middle school, and you will take part in the senior spring play."

"You have got to be joking. There is no way I'm doing any of that." Lucas scoffed in disbelief.

Mr. Bigby had about enough of Lucas's attitude and put his foot down. "Young man, you are in no position to have a say in this matter. You will be doing exactly what I said, starting today. And if I get wind that you are not doing what you are supposed to be, there will be harsher consequences. Have I made myself clear?" Mr. Bigby replied, staring the boy straight in the eye.

"Crystal." Lucas replied, bitterness coating his tone. He got up from the seat, leaning heavily on his crutch.

Apparently, Mr. Bigby wasn't done with his lecture, because as Lucas was hobbling towards the door he heard his principal's voice again. "Lucas. It's your senior year; your last year here to prove to everyone that there is more to you than just being a troublemaker. It's about time you start experiencing other things. Spend time with other kinds of people. You know, ones that would be there to build you up, and not leave you behind when you need help. Just think about it. You have so much potential within you. Take this as an opportunity to broaden your horizons. Don't blow it, Lucas. For it may very well be your last free pass."

As Mr. Bigby was talking, Lucas hadn't even turned around to look at him. Which actually made it easier to keep hopping out of the office. He heard so much about his wasted potential for years now and yet here he still was, constantly sent to the principal's office for one offence or another. If all those other times being told he could do better, that there is still good in him that hadn't been tainted five years ago didn't sink in, Lucas had to wonder why people like Mr. Bigby still tried.