The National Schools Competition (NASC)

1

I knocked softly on the door, then opened it to the secretary's office and entered somewhat bewildered.  Immediately, because of the open windows a cross draft developed in the room, stirring up the stale June air.
- Shut it, because it'll blow me out! - said the secretary sitting at the desk, then she looked up from her papers.
- Um - I smoothed a strand of hair behind my ear, confusedly spoke up.  -My tutor sent me, he said that... - I whispered because for some reason the school office is where a person involuntarily speaks softly.  The secretary took my word for it and she nodded.
- I know, Hannah. The director will receive you within minutes, until then take a seat next to the others - she nodded aside and I followed the movement with my gaze, and noticed that we were not ourselves.  Three students were already sitting in the row of chairs.  One of them my classmate, Lorant, who was in shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt, hunching over, hands down between his knees.  Beside him, Bernadette, one of our classmates sat from twelve D.  I met her casually on the occasion, she does some kind of sport, if I know correctly, water polo.  She must be some kind of ball player, because she already hit me during dodgeball, after which my head was buzzing for almost two weeks.
She's a strong girl anyway.  She looked up at my arrival and silently took note that I was here too.  Next to her, a thin, blond-haired tenth-grade boy, Zsombor, was sitting on the chair.
I knew him by sight and because he won  some Lego builder national competition this school year, which is why in many articles he was mentioned together with our school.  I walked up to them and greeted them confusedly, then sat down in the only available seat.

- Hannah, you here too? - smiled Lorant, as if running into each other in the director's office would be such a happy moment on the last day of the school year, with our grade certificate in hand.
- Apparently - I hissed reluctantly.
- Do you know why we're here? -  Zsombor asked me. You could see that he was frightened by the situation, presumably he has never been invited to the principal's office.
- I have no idea - I shook my head honestly. 
- My tutor said to come here after we got our certificates. - I told him what happened a few minutes ago.
- It happened to me too - muttered Bernadett, fanning her face with her certificate.
- Me too - agreed Lorant.
- Me too - Zsombor whispered. - Did we do something wrong? – he asked thoughtfully as all three of us thought about it and we shook our heads in unison.  When it comes to trouble, from our school anyone, really anyone could have been considered, but the four of us definitely didn't do anything.  None of us could give a rational answer, of why we were here. We sat in silence in the waiting room in front of the director's office, where the sultry June air was trapped.
Through the window, the voices began to fade, the other students left around the school, permanently for this academic year.  It was just the four of us in the building, completely shocked, everyone else already on their summer vacation.
Zsombor took his phone out of his pocket, but Bernadette nudged him in the side and nodded towards the sign on the wall.
We all followed the movement with our eyes and read the inscription.  “No netting!!!  You sit quietly and wait, trusting that that I won't fire you! Director Kocsis".  And the graphics of a smartphone, crossed out with a red line.  A thought-provoking board.  And without a doubt effective, because we didn't even think to take out our phones, Zsombor slipped it back into his pocket and looked at the warning sign with a hint of death on his face.  The secretary stood up and she went to the water dispenser by the wall, took out a plastic bottle from the bottom and filled it by pressing the button.  In the silence, each sip was deafening, while the four of us just watched the process bored, because it was by far the most interesting thing happening in the waiting room.  We didn't know anything except that we can't go yet. I glanced at the clock on the wall, within half a minute for the sixtieth time.  The second hand was ticking annoyingly around, my hair stuck to the back of my neck with sweat, the secretary loudly sipped the water, Bernadette's certificate repetitively moved as she fanned herself with it in her hand.
We heard distant laughter from outside.  Someone was already happy about the summer holiday.  Unlike us, who couldn't be freed.