Disclaimer: The Mediator is a book by Meg Cabot. I am ss10009, not Meg Cabot. I don't own the Mediator, nor do I attempt to make money off of this fanfiction.
Title shamelessly ripped from The Veronica's song.
Spoilers for Moby Dick?

Notes: Casual reminder that this story is set in 2005-ish, so please be patient with the references to 2005-ish things.

Chapter Two – When It All Falls Apart

As of today, the first Friday in December, I was finding out a lot of things. The most important of these things was that the Junípero Serra Mission Academy did not tolerate lying to its staff members or the failure to attend class without proper excuse. I wanted to point out that I did have proper excuse, Sandrine Robinston, but that was hardly the type of thing I could tell to Sister Ernestine. But when I wound up in Father Dom's office about ten minutes later, it was the sort of thing that I didn't mind telling him.

"Susannah, attending class is in no way optional," Father Dom said in a tone best described as serious and non-negotiable.

Of course Father Dom didn't understand. Skipping class to deal with ghosts was unacceptable in his eyes. I might as well have been off fraternizing with the Antichrist. But as a fellow mediator who'd encountered sticky situations in the past, he really should have been more understanding and sympathetic towards my plight.

"We've been over this before, Susannah," Father Dom continued. "Yet I feel as though you are not taking away any meaning from what I am saying. Why did you not tell me about this ghost?"

OK, we really had been down this road before. Father Dom liked to be informed about all spectral activity, no matter how minor it was. But I wasn't used to notworking alone just yet. I'd left New York almost a year ago, but some habits die hard. It was like having to tell someone every time you took a breath. One of these days he was going to have to understand that I could take care of anything and everything that came my way.

OK, OK, almost anything and everything. Mediation had never managed to get as out of hand in Brooklyn as it had gotten here. What was up with the west coast, anyway?

"Sandrine wasn't the type of ghost who needed the attention of more than one mediator," I replied truthfully. Father Dom just didn't understand the sizable favor that I'd bestowed upon him. He would not have wanted to put up with her.

Father Dominic sighed, and, for a moment, I saw the age in his face. If his hair wasn't already snowy white, I would've said I was giving him grays. But the wary look in his eyes was gone in a flash, and he quickly returned to being an unusually attractive senior citizen. "This ghost, this Sandrine, might not have been dangerous, Susannah. I'll take your word on that. But your education is still quite important."

I almost mentioned how him taking me out of class every other day to lecture me at length about the paranormal was not helping my education in any way. This was probably the reason why I was doing so poorly in my first period class, religion. Though, it probably also had something to do with the fact that I spend most of the class period passing notes with Cee Cee and Adam, so I couldn't let Father Dom take all of the blame.

"You should have told me about her, Susannah. Or, at the very least, you should have waited to mediate her until after the school day had drawn to a close. Leaving school in the middle of the day—."

"It wasn't the middle of the day," I protested weakly.

"Regardless. It doesn't matter if there were only twenty minutes left of school, your actions were unacceptable. And I'm sorry to tell you this, Susannah, but there will be repercussions." Father Dom took a pause here. "You now have to serve a three day out-of-school suspension. Your parents are also going to be notified."

I think I kind of gaped at him. I'd done out-of-school suspensions before, back in middle school, but didn't this kind of stuff go on my permanent record now? Besides, how could Father Dominic, of all people, do this to me. My last principal wasn't a mediator. My last principal had never helped me perform an exorcism (on myself). And I'd never had to wonder what I should buy a principal for Christmas, like I was starting to wonder now for Father Dom.

"I know you were only trying to help yesterday," Father Dom said, "but the bottom line is, you chose not to attend class."

"And that's all that matters, huh?" I asked sarcastically. "This is what I get for being a good Samaritan."

Father Dom sighed. "There were other options for you to choose yesterday, Susannah. You chose an unwise course and—."

"You have no idea how much this girl was pissing me off," I complained.

He didn't comment on the semantics of my statement. Instead, he said, "Language, Susannah," in a sharp voice.

I sighed and thought about what I might be punished with for skipping school. I'd probably be grounded. I could kiss the beach goodbye. And possibly the phone in my room. I hoped that whatever sentence I received would be short and over by the time I returned to school.

"So… this whole suspension thing still stands?" I asked as I began to wrap our visit up.

"Yes, Susannah, I'm afraid it does," Father Dom replied.

I hoisted my backpack up from the floor and prepared to ask Father Dom for my hall pass and bolt. Except when I asked for my pass back to class, Father Dom refused to give me one. It wasn't a mean refusal, he just said that I wouldn't need one.

"Susannah, I'm afraid that your suspension begins today. I've already notified your stepfather, and he should be here fairly soon. You may wait outside in the receptionist area until he arrives," Father Dom said.

It didn't take Andy more than two minutes to arrive and herd me into the car. The car ride home from the Mission was a different story. It couldn't have been more than five minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I could practically feel the disappointment radiating from Andy the whole time. He cared about me like I was his own kid.

For the first time today, I felt a little guilty.

"Why did you skip school, Suze?"

Those were the first words from Andy's mouth after we left the principal's office. I didn't have a proper answer for him at the moment. I didn't have a ready explanation that didn't involve a ghost named Sandrine screaming at me during the middle of my math class. And something told me Andy wasn't going to buy that.

Instead, I shrugged my shoulders in a dejected, juvenile delinquent sort of way. Meanwhile, my mind whirred for an acceptable answer that I could use the next time I was asked.

Unsurprisingly, Andy didn't believe my shrug was sufficient. "You weren't skipping school to…" he paused here, trying to find the right word, "to be with a boy, were you?"

Something in Andy's tone told me that when he said "be with," he didn't mean it in the same way as "be with a friend" or even "be with members of a gang" (that would be more of a Sleepy-like implication). His meaning of "be with" could be replaced with something a little different Something that started with an 'S' and rhymed with T-Rex.

You know, sex.

"Nothing like that," I said quickly as I tried not to think about how I'd traipsed along the beach with Jesse yesterday.

Andy looked a relieved to hear that. He wasn't done grilling me though. "So, then why did you skip class?"

I shrugged again, but before he could ask me more questions I said, "I don't know. I guess I was just bored with math."

"You have SAT testing this year, Suze. You really can't bail on anything due to boredom. It's irresponsible. That isn't the kind of thing you want to carry over into your adult life. Look, not everything can be interesting. You have to learn to be more patient and diligent."

Andy dove into a full blown lecture on values that continued even as we sat in the garage. It was always hard to sit through lectures that you didn't technically deserve. I should know; I've done it an ungodly amount of times. But lectures are nowhere near as bad as what comes after them: punishment.

Andy had said that, until my mother came home and they had a chance to discuss, I was going to have to study. Studying wasn't exactly punishment to me. It was ten o'clock on a Friday morning, so I'd normally be at school learning anyway. I was all set to go upstairs and crack open a book while listening to Gwen Stefani.

My outlook changed when Andy said that I couldn't watch TV, listen to music, or use my phone. He pretty much ordered me into an Amish lifestyle until my mom got back. It was unfortunate, considering that Moby Dick, our current book for English, would not be nearly as much fun sans "Cool."

About a half hour after I got to my room, I began to feel kind of trapped up there. Andy had returned to work, so there wouldn't be anyone around to know if I put on a CD or watched America's Next Top Model instead of the pages of Moby Dick. But I didn't like the idea of deceiving Andy about things that didn't have to do with ghosts. My records might say juvenile delinquent, but I think my heart says good Samaritan.

When I glanced towards my windowsill, I couldn't help but be reminded of Jesse. If I'd been grounded a few months ago, he might have appeared there and alleviated my boredom. Considering how easy the climb up to my windowsill was, he could probably still do that. But Jesse wasn't the type of guy who'd sneak into a girl's room. That, in Jesse's words, would impugn upon her and her family's honor. Though it would be fun if he were. The type of guy who'd sneak into a girl's room, I mean.

I spent my time daydreaming about Jesse sneaking into my room and wondering when Moby Dick was actually going to be introduced. After flipping through the 135 chapters of the book, I discovered that the answer was chapter 133.

My mom chose that moment, when I was busy flipping through the pages at rapid speed, to enter my room.

"I think that's called skimming, Suze, not reading," she said.

Her tone was controlled in proper newswoman fashion which meant that I was definitely in trouble. Mom walked over to my bed and took a seat on its edge. I was sitting so that my back was to the headboard, and she was sitting so that she was about a foot away from where my knees were.

"I heard you were skipping class today," she said, taking the matter on head first. "Because you were bored, I'm told."

Like an idiot, I hadn't thought to improve upon this story at all. "Yeah," I replied solidly.

"Where'd you go?"

"To," I paused, trying to think of where it was that I went. More towards where it was that I didn't go. Although I'd spent quite a bit of time in efforts to get to the Historical Society, I'd only spent about fifteen minutes there. Later, Jesse and I had wandered around Carmel, laughing and eating dripping ice cream; we'd gone to the beach for a while and then spent some time at his apartment (and we were not getting horizontal—unfortunately). It wouldn't make much sense for me to be at the Historical Society though. "To visit a friend."

"A friend of yours that wasn't in school with you?" Mom asked skeptically. "And how old might this friend have b—?"

She cut herself off mid sentence and stared at me.

"Susannah," she said, and I knew she meant business once she'd dropped my full name. "Were you with Jesse?"

I froze. She'd hit the nail on the head, and by the look that was slowly taking over her face I could tell that she knew it.

"Um…" I said, grasping for some kind of counter towards this truth that I could use. Only twenty minutes or so of the time I'd spent with Jesse yesterday had been during school hours. The rest of the time I'd spent with Jesse had technically been after school. This explanation wasn't going to make much sense to my mother though, seeing as I'd missed about two hours of school.

"We just… happened to run into each other," I said lamely. And truthfully, might I add.

The look on her face didn't change. She wasn't buying it.

My mom let out a deep breath as though she was readying herself for something. "I suppose, Suze, that now is a good a time as ever to talk to you about this."

"Talk to me about what?" I asked.

I was done with my attempts to convince her that I hadn't skipped school to hang out with Jesse. Not that I'd done much attempting. And not that I'd skipped school to hang out with Jesse in the first place.

My mother scooted closer to me and then asked a question I wasn't really expecting.

"Are you and Jesse sexually active?"

If I had been drinking water, I think I would've spit it out, like people always do on TV when they hear something that they weren't expecting.

"No," I said emphatically. It was like déjà vu from when Paul had asked me if I was sleeping with Jesse. And the worst part of me not being sexually active with Jesse was that I kind of wanted to be. Sexually active, I mean. I'm not sure if I'm really ready to go all the way, but there's definitely some halfway stuff that can be done.

"Suze… Are you telling me the truth?" my mom asked. And then she looked at me with concern in her eyes. "If you are engaging in…sexual intercourse with Jesse, then I just want you to know about the issues. About teen pregnancy. About sexually transmitted diseases."

"Jesse and I are not having sex," I said quickly. "Seriously, Mom."

Her newscaster voice was back and as strong as ever, factual and bulldozing through things that would have made other people uncomfortable to say. Usually, this voice got used for reporting fatalities or human suffering, but in this case, she said, "Even if it's oral sex then—."

"Mom! Jesse and I aren't doing anything that couldn't go into a Disney movie," I said. This wasn't entirely true, considering how close Jesse's hands had gotten lately to being almost on the other side of my shirt, but it was still closer to the truth than I would've liked it to be.

My mom looked dubious at this statement, but she moved past the sex thing.

"Skipping school is unacceptable," she said. And then she sighed. "Suze, I really thought we left these behaviors back in New York."

"I'm sorry, Mom," I said, and I was being sincere. I really was sorry that my mother couldn't just have a normal daughter. A daughter that didn't skip school to kick ghost butt. A daughter that didn't talk to what looked like thin air to everyone else. A daughter who could hold off on dating a guy who was older than her by more than a century until she left high school. That would have make my mother's life here absolutely perfect.

"Both times you've skipped school here, it's been over guys. School right now is much too critical for you to miss attending it. Your semester exams are coming up in less than two weeks, and you're going to have to take the SAT's next month. So I don't want to do this, Suzie, but I will."

A storm was coming. I could feel it. She didn't call me "Suzie" when she was mad at me unless she'd thought of a particularly fitting punishment.

And I was right. Because that was when she said, "Until you've taken your SAT's, you are not allowed to see Jesse."

Next Chapter: You Are (Not) Alone

End Notes:

Don't forget to review, please. I'm offering cupcakes.