Crutchie had never really been to the principal's office for something dangerous or bad. He had come here lots of times to give a pass, or the attendance sheet, or to pass along a message from the newspaper club to Principal Pulitzer. He had even tagged along when Romeo had gone to use the giant copier machine they had in Pulitzer's office, when they had to print the newspaper last year. But he had never even been inside the assistant principal's office, let alone gotten in trouble. And this instance wasn't even his fault, though he couldn't say that out loud. Not when Snyder was listening. Jack had tried to get Crutchie to the nurse's office first, but Snyder had approached him before Jack even had a chance to. Now, Crutchie sat in the rickety chair in front of Snyder's desk, reading the fancy plaque on the wall through one good eye and one half-closed, swollen eye. He really wanted to pick out all the woodchips that cut into his hands, but he couldn't when Snyder walked inside and slammed the door behind him.

"Can you tell me why you're here, Mr. Morris?"

Crutchie really didn't like his last name when Snyder said it, the word cutting through the air like a knife. Crutchie would have rather been beaten with clubs or sticks if it meant he didn't have to hear Snyder's verbal arsenal directed at him. He swallowed, and tried to explain.

"Oscar an' Morris Delancey were shovin' me around, sir, an' one of 'em took my crutch an' started to—"

"Yes, but that's not why you're here, are you?" Crutchie jumped as Snyder walked around to his front. "You're here," Snyder continued, "Because you were being a nuisance. A distraction."

Crutchie stared at him. "Excuse me?!" was all he could say, quite taken aback.

"You were fighting with seniors to show off to your friends," Snyder sneered. "You were disturbing class, and—"

"I wasn't fightin'!" Crutchie protested. "They took my crutch!"

"No excuses, Mr. Morris!" Snyder retorted. "You're being suspended."

"What?!"

"In-school suspension. For two weeks."

"Whattabout the Delancey brothers?!"

"What about them?"

"They took my crutch, an' gave me a black eye—"

Crutchie flattened himself against the chair as Snyder swooped down on him. He was being really creepy, and also entirely unfair.

"Black eye?" Snyder looked at each of Crutchie's eyes. "You don't have any black eyes, Mr. Morris. Your eyes are green. Now, I've dealt with boys like you before, thinking they can play up their injury to get pity—but I see past your game. You think you're immune, because you're a cripple? No, Mr. Morris. You have something more. You are an insolent, sneaky little man, who—"

"Mr. Snyder?"

Crutchie peered over his shoulder as the door opened. It was one of the secretaries. Snyder stood up, trying to act nonchalant. "Yes?"

"It's Nurse McConnoly. She would like—erm, Crutchie to see her. One of his friends told her about an injury…?"

Crutchie immediately stood up, grabbing his crutch. He was prepared to leave this office as fast as possible, but Snyder placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Tell Mrs. McConnoly that Mr. Morris will be in the ISS room for the rest of the week if she wishes to see him. You may go."

Crutchie started to limp out of the room, wondering where the ISS room even was. He was just about to go back to class and face the consequences when a teacher called him into a small room down the hall. Someone had scrawled on the window with dry-erase marker, as a joke. They had written 'The Refuge'.

Well, Crutchie thought as he slumped down in a desk, At least in-school suspension couldn't be any worse than detention.

Right?