Messages on a Coffee Cup

Chapter 31

We had been caught; totally screwed. Ethan and I both knew that there was no other way to get out of this predicament; we had a plan, but it was a last resort kind of plan. Escape plan numero eight. A look of hope flashed onto my face, alerting Ethan but not the principal that stood in front of us, his face towards the chalkboard. I quickly held up eight fingers causing Ethan to widen his eyes at the severity of our situation. I wouldn't have chosen escape plan number eight if it wasn't an escape or expulsion matter, and he knew full well that I was pretty scared of it in the first place.

Suddenly, the old man known as Mr. Walters to faculty and the Viper to the students of Westfield High, turned around with a scowl. He acquired the nickname because of what my generation called a "snake" or in normal words, a tattletale. He'd usually take most matters straight to expulsion or the police without even thinking twice, depending on your previous records.

"Please," he said through clenched teeth, "Take a seat, stay a while."

I looked at Ethan, looking at the Viper who was looking at me. I gulped at the immense amount of tension in the room, it was like at any moment, he was going to snap. It was the calm before the storm.

When he saw we weren't moving, his expression hardened, exposing many years of frown wrinkles and anger marks around his eyes and mouth.

"Now!" he screamed.

Frightened, we did as he commanded, sitting as close to the classroom's windows as possible, eager to make a break for it. I ran through the plan in my head; the success rate of our escape was pretty low, like 45% low, unless we had a distraction, a diversion. I surveyed our options; act quickly with the materials we had, take a chance and run like the wind, or, call a friend. 

My body reacted before I could even think it through and I slowly slid my cell phone out of my pocket. Once I had it in my hand, I held down the number three, instantly speed dialing Kim and rested it on my thigh. We had told her where we were going in case we were stuck in this sort of situation so she knew not to talk when she picked up nearly two seconds later. I gave Ethan a look of assurance, thankfully un-noticed by Mr. Walters, to let him know that I had everything under control, that Kimberly had answered my call for help.

"So," the Viper started. "Trespassing onto school property, assault, and breaking and entering! You're looking at expulsion and some time in Juvie, but, given, Holland, your records, and Ethan, your lack of knowledge on Canadian offences, I'm predicting expulsion and 500 plus hours of community service."

My tense muscles loosened. Not only would I probably not be going to Juvie, but I had felt my phone vibrate against my leg, signaling that Kimberly had hung up, insuring me that she was on her way. From Kim's house, the school was five minutes away and if Cameron was driving with her we could've expected them within three.

We sat at the edge of our seats while the Viper scolded us for our wrong doings.

"What were you going to do to Mrs. Bullard anyway; loosen the bolts on her chair? Like that hasn't already been done," he lectured, his gaze shifting from me to Ethan. "Well? Are you going to answer me or are you just going to sit there and grow mold?"

"Sir," Ethan blurted out, stalling for a little more time, "Mrs. Bullard has been anything but welcoming, I've witnessed this first hand, and I think I speak for both of us when I say that she fully deserves what we were planning on doing."

The Viper opened his mouth to respond but, as if on cue, was interrupted by a loud ringing bell. The sprinklers located sparsely around the room roared to life and drenched us in tons of water. The Viper snapped around and stared at the door, eager to find out who had caused such a commotion.

This is our chance, I thought.

Then, I grabbed Ethan's hand and cracked the window open enough for my body to fit through. I slid down onto the roof and Ethan followed me, grabbing the rope out of his duffle bag, tying it to a nearby pole and draping it down to the second floor's roof. And at that moment, I swear we were ninjas.

"Ready?" he asked me, handing me the end of the rope.

"Ready," I confirmed.

Together, we descended onto the roof of the second floor, then the first, and approached the ground. Just as we began to run towards Kimberly's car, visible in the moonlight, the sirens of approaching fire trucks filled the air. We had to get out of there before we were caught, after all, the emergency response units wouldn't be as permissive as Mr. Walters.