Hero's Call

Chapter Twenty One

"Well, Ms..." the principal said, checking the forms on the desk in front of him, "Tabernacle, I'm sure your son would fit in quite nicely here at Buckland High. We may not be a big school, but I think that makes our students a closer knit family that openly accepts new members when they come along."

Greg Bradley had been the principal of Buckland High School for nearly ten years. In all that time he had known very few children who transferred into their midst and were openly accepted. Most were met with a cold shoulder and some of the geekier ones were welcomed with open arms that took them directly to the bathroom to give them a swirly. They were all little heathens as far as he was concerned. It was his job to keep the madness controlled until the little pricks graduated to give room for more little pricks to take their place. It was a hard job, but he was good at it. At least, he thought he was good at it. No one contested that fact openly, so he took it as a good sign.

He was a barrel-chested man that liked to emphasize his massive midsection by pushing his shoulder blades together when he walked. His hair was dyed a light shade of brown to cover the rapidly spreading gray patches. It was loaded with product and parted to one side in such a way that created a small shelf of hair that extended slightly out over his forehead. He had a mouth full of perfectly straight, unnaturally white teeth that he loved to show off any chance he got whether it was smiling at a joke or sneering at a student who had stepped out of line. Bradley was currently in the throes of a mid-life crisis that gave him an inflated opinion of himself and his level of sexual appeal to the opposite sex. He was functioning under the opinion that every female student in the school was madly in love with him and that most of them thought of him while their inexperienced boyfriends fumbled around under their shirts or down their pants. Suffice it to say, it was a delusion that he would learn was not true one day, much to his chagrin and the ruling of the courts.

The young woman in front of him was exactly the kind of woman that would be putty in his hands, he knew. If, that is, he felt like doing some sculpting. Bradley couldn't believe she had a fifteen year old son. She didn't look a day over nineteen. Her boyishly short chestnut hair made her look uniquely sex in conjunction with the patch of freckles that sat innocently under each eye. She was wearing a white blouse that was nearly see-through and unbuttoned low enough to show the meager cleavage her small breasts produced. Bradley was typically a big breast kind of guy, but he was willing to make an exception in her case. Her firm, muscular legs stretched out from a form fitting gray skirt; a pair of sensible heels covered her feet. The thought of a sexy librarian swam to Bradley's mind and he could feel himself stiffening in his pants.

"I truly hope he does fit in here, Mr. Bradley," the young woman said. "My Xander is something of a gifted young man. That has unfortunately caused him to have some troubles with the other kids in some of his other schools. His intelligence has made him an outcast. I am hoping that Buckland is the place where he will finally find a place for himself."

Bradley nodded. They were going to eat that kid alive.

"I'm sure he'll have no problems making friends," he lied. "There is just one little issue."

She looked at him in confusion. "Issue?"

Bradley picked the forms up off his desk and leafed through them. "Yes," he restated. "It seems we don't have the transcripts from any of Xander's previous schools. The aptitude tests he took for us have excellent results, but without those transcripts we won't know what classes he's taken or how he's been doing. It may seem like a moot point with these test scores, but it's just standard procedure. We can't admit Xander until we've received his transcripts. If you'd like to write down the name of his previous schools, I'll be more than happy to have my assistant call and have them faxed over."