Chapter 7

By the end of the school day, only Jodie and Dawn came through with the promised signatures.

Most of the others apologetically handed over petition sheets containing only one or two names. Rebecca had two pages worth of signatures but said she'd only give them if Victor and Priscilla both joined the Christian Students Club. In response, Priscilla stared at her until Rebecca withered up and ran away.

Quinn didn't even show up, presumably too drawn in by Fashion Club drama.

Kevin and Mack both dropped by. Kevin had gotten the signatures of almost the entire football team but for his altered petition. And Mack only had his own signature.

Standing with Priscilla, Victor stared at Kevin's altered petition and sighed.

"What should we do with this? It does have a lot of high-profile signatures," he pointed out.

Priscilla shook her head. "Throw it away. If we hand that to Li, she might actually go through with having us all eat lunch on the football field."

"On that case, we only have almost four dozen signatures. Not as many as I'd hoped."

"Given the kinds of people that attend this school, it's the best we're going to get." Priscilla breathed in and squared her shoulders. "Ready to bring this to Li?"

"Not really," Victor admitted. "But I suppose I shouldn't let that stop me."

As he followed Priscilla to the principal's office, Victor realized just how weird the last few days had been. He'd never been so busy in his life. The funny thing was, he almost liked it.

It used to be he'd go weeks without anyone talking to him. He'd always accepted this as the norm. Why should anyone talk to him? He was boring. Some boring kids made up for it by being smart, but he'd struggled to get a 2.8 GPA last year.

So, he'd accepted it and hid away. High school flowed around him, a river that eroded his psyche bit by bit even as it coursed its way to bigger and better things.

But now he was seeing just how much actually happened in this place. Jocks, punks, nerds, holy rollers, and more all interacting and overlapping. It reminded him a bit of how different factions in Warhammer 40K interacted—usually hostile to each other, but sometimes allies from necessity or happenstance. And just like Warhammer 40K, he kind of wanted to know more… except there were no neatly printed Games Workshop codices to tell him what was what. All he could do was wade in and find out for himself.

No wonder Jane had so much creativity. She drew from the rich wellspring all around them, the one he'd so cluelessly ignored up until now.

What happened when this whole thing was over? The petitions gave him an excuse to talk to people. It didn't mean people wanted to talk to him.

Part of him hoped Li would turn down their proposal so they could keep at it a while longer.

Principal Li examined what few petition papers they had, her face unmoved save for the deepening furrows on her brow.

"I must say, Mr. Adamos, Ms. Pruitt, these are rather meager petitions. Only 46 signatures in a school of hundreds?" She chortled, and then snorted. "I can't say this moves me to reverse my ruling."

"It's still 46 people who hate being stuck there!" Priscilla fumed.

"Young lady, this isn't the first time you've come to my office. I still remember when you tried to ban cheerleading, last year."

"It's indecent," Priscilla muttered.

Victor took it all in. Li was right—46 signatures wasn't even close to enough. But in strategy, if you didn't have enough, sometimes you could bluff.

"I feel confident in saying that the cafeteria rule is extremely unpopular," Victor said, enunciating carefully. A weird prickling sensation ran up and down his spine as he realized he was disagreeing with the school's highest local authority.

But he'd already started.

"I've heard no complaints!" Li countered.

"I have. What's more, the sheer number of students means that conflict is more likely to break out in the lunchroom—which carries its own security concerns."

That got Li's attention. "Have you seen any security concerns? I remind you that the school code mandates students to report any misbehavior!"

It did? Victor froze up, not sure how to respond.

"We do report it!" Priscilla said. "But no one ever listens! You don't—"

"Which is why we're bringing it to you, Principal Li!" Victor interjected.

He shot a cautionary look at Priscilla, who nodded in reluctant acknowledgement and settled back down.

People in power loved to be praised. That was a big part of Warhammer 40K, after all—praising the lords and generals of the Imperium, especially if they didn't particularly deserve it.

"Given your great track record in enforcing discipline, it seemed best that we bring our concerns to you. I think that, uh, despite the recent auditorium fire, you'll have fewer discipline problems if you let students eat where they please. So many students packed together is a disaster waiting to happen."

Li's face darkened. She planted her hands on her desk and stood up from her chair, leaning forward so that her head thrust forward like an especially alarming gargoyle's.

"Are you threatening me, Mr. Adamos?" she asked.

"No!" he exclaimed.

How on Earth had she interpreted that as a threat?

"We're trying to keep things—" Priscilla started.

Li stood up and cut her off with a wave of the hand. "You're one of those quiet types, Mr. Adamos, and I know what that means!"

"What does that mean?" he asked.

Li's eyes darted from side to side, and then went back to glaring at him. "As for the cafeteria rule, I see no reason to change it! Your petition has been dismissed."

"But what does me being quiet mean?" Victor suspected he knew, but he wanted to hear it from her.

"Good-bye, young people. I have work to do."

With that, she picked up a stack of papers and held them out in front of her face like a barricade, making it very clear she was done talking to them.

"Told you it wouldn't work," Priscilla said as they left the office.

Victor grunted. The echo of Li's words burned a hole into his brain. That's all he was. A 'quiet type' to be shunned and feared. Even to the authorities.

"Hey, Victor."

Priscilla put her hand on his shoulder, and he flinched at such an unexpected sensation. He stared at her for a moment, not quite sure what to do.

"Are you okay? I heard what she said about 'quiet type'. And I know what people like her mean by it, these days."

He wanted her to move her hand. Not that it wasn't a nice gesture, but the touch made him feel exposed, somehow.

"Uh, yes. I'm fine."

"Okay. You're not like one of those creeps who'd shoot up a school or anything, so don't make her think you are one."

Tears came to Victor's eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat, willing away his urge to cry.

"Thanks," he managed to choke out.

She withdrew her hand, and he relaxed.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked, grateful to have a new subject to move onto. "Another round of petitions?"

"No. I told you earlier that Li doesn't care about us. That means we need to make this hurt for her."

"What are you thinking of?"

"We need to make the cafeteria setup enough of a pain in the butt for her that she has no choice but to change the rule and let us eat where we want."

Victor nodded. "I see your reasoning. How do we do that?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe Kelly will have some ideas."