Ch. 2-Crime and Punishment
After what felt like ages (especially to Johnny, who was still bleeding a little), the secretary leaned her head into the room and said "Mr. Germano will see you two now." Her voice was so chipper and upbeat that both boys had to roll their eyes inwardly.
They walked into the principal's office and he shut the door behind them.
"Have a seat, boys…" he sighed, obviously irritated. He had a reason to be; this was the 6th time in three weeks they were in here.
He gestured for them to take a seat in front of his desk, and he in turn sat in his own cushioned, creaky chair.
"Now, gentlemen," he began after a moment, "May I ask just what the problem is between you two..?"
Neither boy spoke for a couple minutes. Johnny's intention was not to speak at all. Why should he? He was the one who was always being attacked. He had done no wrong, and felt he was unfairly stuck in this current position. Besides, he thought, Bradley smelled like feet, and he really wanted to leave…maybe get a band-aid.
Abruptly, Mr. Gremano snapped "Okay, look; if neither of you will talk, I'm afraid-"
"I have something to say, sir!" Bradley interjected, "Okay, um, Stickie here-"
"Johnny. His name is Johnny, Mr. Shrike, not Stickie. While in my office, you will refrain from using your childish nicknames."
"Yeah, sorry," Bradley hurriedly continued, "Okay, here's the deal..um, problem, Mr. Germano. Everyday, I'm just waking down the hall, minding my own business, and St-Johnny here," he glared at him sideways for emphasis, "gives me the dirtiest look. He just glares at me! What did I do! I finally had enough of it a couple weeks back, and had to stand up for myself, you know? That's what you're always teaching us right?"
He paused, waiting for a response. Mr. Germano sighed and laid his glasses on his desk,
"Could the fact that he gives you dirty looks stem from the fact that you've tormented him for no less than 2 years now? And yes, we do like to encourage standing up for oneself. However, doing so with violence is not the best way to do that. If you have a problem with some that cannot be resolved peacefully, you should come to Ms. Cazel or myself. Now, Jonathon," he turned to him, "What do you have to say about all this?"
Johnny silently glowered at the half-dead poinsettia sitting on a filing cabinet.
'If I don't say anything,' he thought to himself, 'It'll make him look better…but what's the point? He'll just get off scott-free no matter what I say…it's always the same.'
"Johnny..?" Mr. Germano prodded.
Finally, Johnny turned and stared blankly at the principal as he voiced his thoughts,
"It will do no good to voice my opinions, or try to defend myself, nor mention all the horrid things he does to me that the teachers don't see. It doesn't matter, because he'll get a slap on the wrist, we'll leave, and tomorrow it will all go back to normal until the next time one of the teachers is bored enough to notice and send us here. That's how it always goes. So please, just get this over with so I can get to my art class…I'd really rather not miss it."
With that he fell silent and turned his attention back to the poinsettia.
Mr. Germano looked disappointed, "Well, Jonathon, I'm sorry to hear you feel that way. I promise you, I'll do everything I can to ensure things do not continue like this. In the meantime, I must administer some sort of punishment for this constant fighting. I'm afraid," he opened his desk drawer and removed a detention form, "You'll both serve detention this Saturday from 8 to noon. Maybe while you're sitting in there, you can think of a way to resolve your dispute. Now, get back to class. And Johnny? You make a stop at the nurse's office first."
Both boys stood and left the office quietly. Once the door had shut behind them, however, Bradley whirled and grabbed Johnny by the collar,
"You stupid skinny asshole!" he snarled, his face livid with anger, "Now I've got detention, and my parents are gonna kill me! You better watch your back faggot, cause now you're really in for it!"
He shoved him roughly away and stalked down the hall toward his class. Johnny stood alone, gratefully, for a moment and contemplated his future. He knew things wouldn't change; they never did. And now he was being punished for getting tortured day after day. It made him sick with fury and frustration.
Suddenly, he thought he heard a whisper…a faint snatch of speech. He whirled around, searching. There was no one there. It came again, and he almost swore it was coming from his own mind. He shook his head telling himself he had imagined it, and started down the hall toward the nurse's office.
Later, he finally realized what he thought that whisper had said…
"Johnny…Hello…Johhhnnnyyy…"