Desperate Escape

Chapter Fifteen: Butterfly

I'm sitting in a small classroom next to my mom and across from the principal, sitting at a large desk with the same computer as the one in my teacher's class.

I look over my shoulder to see Melissa holding an ice pack to her nose at the back of the classroom. The bottoms of her eyes are puffy from crying and her cheeks are red.

"Turn around," my mom tells me with her teeth clenched and her lips scrunched. I quickly face forward and lock eyes with the principal.

She's a silver-haired woman with wrinkles all across her face and neck but they look like they were worse at one point. Her hair is in a low ponytail that stops just above her elbows and has a rose gold clip instead of a rubber band.

I glance around the room, listening to the clock ticking and other students shuffling through the halls to get to their next classes. The door is wide open, so I see Troy and Keenan walk side-by-side to their science class.

Then a woman steps in front of the door and my eyes travel up her black turtleneck and thin, beige trenchcoat.

"I'm sorry for the delay," she says but walks to Melissa like we haven't been waiting. "My Mercedes wouldn't start, so I had to get my brother to drive me."

She sounds and looks exhausted. Her voice drags a little and her eyes are heavy under layers of makeup.

"Mrs. Hayworth," the principal calls her, and Melissa's mom whips around with a raised eyebrow. Her dark brown hair swings and lands mostly on her shoulder.

"It's Donovan," she sternly tells her, then sits her Chanel clutch on the desk beside her daughter.

The principal narrows her eyes at her and asks, "Your name is Donovan?"

"No, my husband's last name is Donovan." Melissa's mom removes her trenchcoat and places it on her daughter's desk. "I haven't been a Hayworth in thirteen years."

I watch Melissa glare at her mother as she flattens the back of her black pencil skirt before finally sitting down.

"Can we speed this along," Mom asks. "I missed an appointment with my dentist to be here and if you two are just gonna argue over names, I'll gladly take my daughter and leave."

"I can see where she gets her attitude." The principal covers her mouth with one hand and stares wide-eyed at Mrs. Donovan.

"Excuse me?" My mom turns around to the smiling woman but she looks nowhere near as happy.

"I'm just saying, it explains why she lashed out at my child," she says while shrugging and acting like she meant no harm.

"Ladies?" Me and Melissa sit up in our seats. The bell rings and when I look through the door, I don't see anyone.

"Maybe my daughter had a reason." Mine crosses her arms and scans the woman's clothes. "If yours is anything like you, I think it's justified."

"I'm really paying all of this money for my child to go to school with hoods," she asks the principal with one hand gesturing toward us and laughing in disbelief.

"Hoods?" My heart sinks when my mom stands to her feet. The principal sits back with her fingers over her thin lips.

"Please, don't hit me," she says, but she doesn't sound afraid. Her tone is flat and her eyes are empty. "I have the best team of lawyers in the state and judging by your child's hair, you can't afford a lawsuit."

I look at Melissa, expecting her to smile or laugh, but she immediately lowers her head and shakes it.

"That's enough!" The adults turn to the woman in charge and like Melissa, I drop my attention to my lap and slump down in my chair. "My goodness, I feel for your children if this is the representation that they have at home." My mom glances at me, sighs, then returns to her seat. "Now, I had a word with every student in that first-period class, and from what I understand, Miss. Hayworth threw the ball at Miss. Iverson first."