Immortals

Chapter Twelve: Shine

Laurence sat directly in front of Principal Cowell, who was looking as serious and boring as always. It was silent, like dead air in a cave. Cowell cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence. 

"Let me be the one to break the silence." Cowell said, monotone. 

"You already did." Laurence joked, with a cheeky smile. Cowell rolled his eyes. 

"I have bad news." 

"What is it?" 

Cowell took a deep breath, looking at Laurence as if he were a small child who had gotten a word incorrect on a spelling bee. 

"The glee club will not be receiving a yearbook picture this year..." Cowell announced, looking at Laurence as if he was delivering the news that his dog had to be put down. Laurence gasped, shocked. 

"What the fuck? Why?" 

"Darius has ordered that there is to be a six page spread of the cheer squad, and I figured that since nobody joins the glee club anyway, it would be a good sacrifice!" Cowell explained, his facial expression staying the same. 

"WHAT? YOU LET THAT FUCKER STEAL MY YEARBOOK PAGE?" Laurence squealed, appalled. 

"Hey! It's not just you! I cut the debate team's page as well!" Cowell argued. 

"Why does Darius get all the fun?" 

"Trust me, Laurence, we've all seen what Darius can do... I'm not having our school burnt down a second time!" 

Laurence sighed, awfully disappointed. 

Why does Darius get everything? 

"These students have worked hard to get where they are. They deserve recognition!" 

"It's not my choice, Spender!" Cowell argued. Laurence burst out into angry, sarcastic laughter. 

"Bullshit! You're the fucking principal! Darius is being a bully to these students! It's not fucking fair!" Laurence argued. 

"It's out of my control..." Cowell sighed, desperately wishing for someone to slap Laurence with a fish. 

"Bullshit! Darius is being a bully to twelve sixteen year olds! Do something!" Laurence commanded. 

"Fine! The glee club can have one ad space, but only two students can do it!" 

Laurence angrily stood up from his chair, with fury dripping from his eyes. He marched like a soldier out of the room, raging like a bull in a stampede. 

Exactly one hour after his heated discussion with Principal Cowell, Laurence walked into a generic classroom, decorated with lame memes and faux-inspirational quotes. He placed his things on his desk and stood in front of it, facing his students, who sat down with their friends, chattering like weird birds. Zayn and Shahid sat next to each other, talking about boobs, sports and rap music. Caitlin sat next to Ashlynn, rubbing her protruding stomach. Randy sat with some other random ginger friends. 

"Konnichiwa!" Laurence greeted, friendly. 

"Konnichiwa..." the students groaned in unison. 

"So today we have a seating plan..." he announced. Zayn rolled his eyes. 

"Why? We're in Year 10!" Zayn argued. 

"Yes, but I feel we're doing more talking than working, and it's holding you all back." 

"We're good." Caitlin responded. 

"Actually, no, because six people got Ds and only one got an A... guess how many are in the class..." Laurence frowned.