I sat in the princaple's office for what seemed like hours. I looked over at the boy across the hall still in the nurce's office after he got a concution and broken shoulder. I wished the officials would understand that I can't entirely control my strength, but to do that, I would have to explain what I am, along with my whole family. "Ms. Vargas," the princaple called (I always hated titles like those, they always ment I was in trouble). "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Okay, fine. I was the cause for the boy's broken shoulder and concution, but he started it! "I didn't mean to push him that hard, I was just trying to get him off me. He started it, he came to me about to punch me!"

"That's not what Mrs. Becos said." he pointed out. "She said that when she looked out her window one second, everything was fine. She turned away for five seconds exactly, and when she looked back, she saw you pushing him into the locker with full force."

"I didn't use full force!" I tried to explain. "That was, at most, half of what I could really do! I'm working on controling it, honost!"

"That's enough of your farietails!" he exploded at me.

"Mr. Evans," the assistant princaple started. "Mr. Vargas said he's on his way. He'll be here shortly."

"Did he say if any of my uncles are coming too?" I asked as the administrator shook her head. I sank in my chair. I knew about my papa's bad temper, and prayed that he was atleast with Uncle Veniciano, or better, Uncle Antonio before he got the call.

Mr. Evans looked at me. "Does your father have a temper?" he asked as I nodded. "Do your uncles usualy calm him down?"

"Some of them, and a few of my brothers do too sometimes."

"Do you have any other females in your family?"

"Not enough." I stated.

Right then, my papa, Italia Romano, AKA Lovino Vargas, came through the front doors of the school. He was alone, and looked angrier than ever. I sank deeper in my chair as he slamed the office doors open. "You called?" he growled.

"Yes, Mr. Vargas. Please have a seat." Mr. Evans offered as papa sat next to my quivering form. "Your daughter was seen pushing a boy into a locker for no proven reason. We see that all the time, and accept them as accedents, but the boy she pushed is in the nurce's office with a concution and broken shoulder." he leaned in closer. "Understand, Mr. Vargas, we have never had to call an ambulince on a fight that just started until now. From that, we believe _ should attend anger mannagment therapy, and susspended from school for two days."

My papa looked down at me darkly. "_," he stated as calmly as he could. "è vero?" [is this true?]

"No, non lo è!" [No, it's not!] I cried. I crumbled as my papa stared me down. "... Beh, non del tutto. Hanno fatto chiamare l'ambulanza, ma non ho mai iniziato la lotta! Non ho nemmeno usare tutta la sua forza!" [...Well, not completely. They did call an ambulance, but I never started the fight! I didn't even use full force!] He exchanged glances between me and Mr. Evans. "Papa," I started as he turned his attention back to me. "Se avessi usato tutta la sua forza in spinta quel ragazzo, non sono sicuro che sarebbe vivo con i danni che avrei avuto. Voi sapete che! Per favore, spiegargli che ho davvero sto cercando di controllarmi!" [If I had used full force into pushing that boy, I'm not sure he'd be alive with the damage he'd get. You know that! Please, explain to him that I really am trying to control myself!]

My papa took in a deep breath, intaking my words, and looked down at me. "Non credo che questa conversazione è finita. Parleremo di questo quando torniamo a casa." [Don't think this conversation is over. We will talk about this when we get home.] he warned before turning to Mr. Evans again. "With the strength she has," he started. "that boy in there is lucky to be alive. The way I see it, she's working hard to control her temper and...physical abillities." he muttered the last part before continuing. "I apreciate you taking consern for her safty and the safty of others, but she doesn't need the theropy you're suggesting. I do promise you," he started as he stood and looked at me again. "she won't get away with her rash actions so easilly."

I thought for a second. "Grande Fratello America può insegnarmi a controllare la mia forza migliore. E posso andare a zio Spagna per problemi di rabbia la mia gestione." [Big Brother America can teach me to control my strength better. And I can go to Uncle Spain for my anger management problems.]

"L'America è un imbecille e Spagna solo un coglione." [America's an imbecile and Spain's just a jerk.]

"Preferisci andare da zio Francia per la gestione della rabbia? Oppure ... forse ... oserei dire ... zio Germania?" [Would you rather me go to Uncle France for anger management? Or...possibly...dare I say...Uncle Germany?]

My papa looked furious of the very name "Uncle Germany" as my princaple looked at us confused. "What are you two talking about?"

"She's just giving me...options for her control classes." he answered. "Come ho detto," [Like I said,] he stated as he turned back to me. "parleremo di questo quando torniamo a casa." [we'll talk about this when we get home.] With that said, we left the office to start my suspention. "What's the real story?" he asked as he drove us home. "How did that boy get you so angry, you pushed him into a locker with a good portion of your strength?"

I thought for a second, trying to remember how the real story even began as we drove away from the school. When I remembered, I winced at how bad it would sound. "You don't wanna know."