Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝑺𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒚𝒆𝒕 𝒔𝒐 𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔.
Antoine's Perspective
The next morning, me and my brother pack up and head to school together in my car. We brought everything we'd need last night, so we didn't have to go back to Papa's house in the morning. That was smart. He's even more disgusting when he has a hangover.
When I get to school, I find my friends, and tell them about seeing how Reese Mallory works at the nasty dingy gas station. We all laugh at her together about that.
The rest of the day goes great, until the sixth hour, when this comes over on the loudspeaker, "Antoine Griezmann, please report to the principal's office. I repeat, Antoine Griezmann, please report to the principal's office."
My heart beats a little quicker at this, and I wrack my brain, trying to think about what I could have done, before standing up, and walking to the door, feeling the eyes of the whole class burning into my back.
I walk down the empty hallways, feeling more dead than alive.
When I walk through the door of the principal's office, I stop in my tracks when I see who is sitting in the chair across the principal.
Reese Mallory Abbott.
Rage fills me, deep from within, and I don't even know what is happening yet.
But her face is red and tear-stained, which can't mean anything good for me.
But I sit down in the chair next to her, facing the principal. "You called me here?" I ask respectfully.
"Yes," says the principal, standing up. "But it's not me you need to speak to. I'll be leaving now. And someone else will be coming in."
Confusion fills me as he leaves the room, and my eyes widen as a police officer walks in.
Oh God, no. No. Reese Mallory, no. What have you done? My heart is beating fast. So fast.
The officer sits down. "Hello, Antoine," he says calmly. "My name is Officer Garnier. I'm here to ask you some questions. Please answer honestly, because things will only go better for you that way. I just spoke to Miss Abbott here, and she said last night you came into the gas station she worked at, threatening to beat her up if she didn't allow you to buy some alcoholic beverages. We are very happy with her honesty, and because of that, she will be punished much less. She felt threatened, explained that she has been physically harmed by you before, and was terrified not to sell it to you. Does this sound right, Mr. Griezmann?"
I feel sick. Literally, I need to throw up. "Make her leave..." I get out softly.
