Willow Academy (Spanking Story)

Chapter 14, Part 1: Owen's POV

I think time was invented to drive the human race insane. When someone wants something to come sooner, it seems to take its leisurely time getting there. However, when someone is dreading an upcoming event, it is happening before he is even aware of it.

I'm not sure whether I wanted this meeting to come sooner rather than later, or later rather than sooner. All I know is, time somehow made it slap me in the face with its presence.

Dylan Peters was a hunk of muscle, towering over most of the students his age. Unlike Riley and Mason, Dylan never appeared high or even out of sorts. He just looked downright mad all the time. I think even the teachers were scared of him!

There's no way that rehearsing prepared me to negotiate with this guy. We'd probably "negotiate" the best place for me to get pummeled to a pulp!

I knew I couldn't back down, though. My entire reputation was at stake- that was something I couldn't risk losing. Despite what I'd promised Penny, I was going through with this.

Peters was leaning against some lockers at the end of the north hall on the third floor- not the best meeting place. We were so close to Dana's room I just knew I'd be caught, and then I'd never see daylight again!

It seemed someone had made Dylan aware of our little meeting, because he shrugged off the lockers as I came near. I guess Riley had found some way to get the message to him, though I was surprised he was even acknowledging me.

Look cool, Owen... calm and cool.

"Hey," I squeaked as Peters glared at me from a foot above. Was I really that short?

"What's your offer?" was all he said, voice rough and annoyed. I'd better make this quick.

"Ecstasy. For the Underclassmen. Uh... half profit?" Riley hadn't exactly told me how much money the seniors made off the drug, but I knew it was substantial from his earlier excitement.

Dylan chuckled, leaning against the lockers in ease. His tough façade was gone, replaced by one so condescending I felt about two feet tall.

"You're the big mastermind that little shithead Riley sent, huh? What makes you think I'll give you anything if I won't give your faggot group's leader anything?" I knew Dylan wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, but surely he could manage an actual adjective instead of an expletive every four words?

I looked around desperately for information, but the hallway was practically deserted. I was late for Corella's class, but I knew she wouldn't mind. This meeting was a total failure.

Suddenly, a door opened down the hall, and I whipped my head around spastically. Please don't be Dana, please don't be Dana!

It was only a freshman, meekly holding a restroom pass and sidling past us nervously. I would have been nervous too, being that small with Peters glaring a whole through my head. The freshman rounded the corner before I could even register it wasn't my brother.

That's it!

Dana!

"You've, uh, you've got Kherrington's class, right?" I didn't know if Dylan knew who I was, but being a teacher's sibling definitely had its benefits!

"Yeah, failing it too," Peters muttered, and then seemed to catch himself actually holding a conversation with a sophomore. "Why do you give a fuck?" he sneered, shoving my chest lightly. Or lightly to him, at least.

I stumbled back, but held my ground as best I could. I was gonna get this deal, dammit!

"Cuz I've got connections. Kherrington's my older brother, so I could... ya know, probably find some of his answers keys to tests and shit." Please work, please please please work!

This caught him off guard a bit. The brute seemed to think for a minute, in that slow way of his, and nodded to himself.

"Alright, you little shithead. Get me the answers to the next Calculus test, and I'll deal you in. All profits are yours, but any of the teachers catch wind of this, you're dead."

I tried not to gulp at that threat, unreal as it seemed. I had little doubt that Dylan would carry out his word to the fullest.

"Deal," I choked out, shaking the proffered hand weakly. What in the hell had I just gotten myself into?

"Get the fuck out of here, shrimp," he snarled, and shoved me into the lockers. I hurriedly traced the path the scared freshman had taken earlier, and wound up in the bathroom.

I stared tiredly at my reflection in the mirror. Getting the test answers wouldn't be easy- it would be next to impossible. I knew Dana would keep them in his classroom; he never really graded at home. Always said he preferred to leave work at work.

I heard a toilet flush behind me, and I acted on the spur of the moment, as I'd been doing a lot lately.

My shoes squeaked against the tile as I sped for the door. The light switch was just to the left of it, and the lock was placed conveniently on the inside, should anybody find themselves locked in. This freshman was about to.

I hurriedly flipped off the switch and turned the lock clockwise, practically shoving myself out the door. I prayed the door would close shut firmly instead of catching on the deadbolt.

The heavy door swept shut, locked until the poor freshman recovered his surroundings. Hopefully that would take a few minutes.

"Please be your conference, please be your conference," I murmured, rushing down the hall to the all-too-familiar classroom. Through the window panel, I could see Dana sitting at his desk, fiddling with one of his drawers. A quick glance to the right showed empty desks, void of students dreading the upcoming math class. It was his conference.

"Yes!" I cheered aloud, and ripped his door open. Thankfully, it stayed on its hinges.

My brother's head snapped up abruptly, dropping whatever was in his hands. He quickly shoved his chair back and leapt to his feet, crossing over to me in three strides. I guess I must have looked scared out of my wits. I was.

His eyes were shining with concern, and I realized he was waiting for me to say something.

"There's someone banging on the door of the bathroom down the hall! I think they're locked in!" I had no idea if I sounded believable, but Dana didn't waste time. He stalked back to his desk for his keys, and was out of the room faster than I came in. I realized he hadn't said a word.

I knew I had next to no time, and time wasn't fond of me in the first place.

My hands were shuffling rapidly through stacks of papers before I could even register what I was doing.

"Geometry, Trig, Algebra..." I muttered, flipping through a stack that held multiple answer keys.

And then, there it was. It was like finding buried treasure! I held the Calculus answer key triumphantly over my head for a moment, and then peeled out of there faster than a moth to a light bulb.

~*~

Peters was waiting, once again leaning against some lockers. This time, fortunately, our meeting was being held on the first floor of the north end.

"You got the shit?" Apparently, Dylan wasn't one for small talk.

I handed the key to him wordlessly, and his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. I'd never seen him show any other emotion besides anger- it was unsettling.

No one was in the hall, but he still glanced around for a few seconds before digging a brown paper bag out of his backpack. He stuffed it into my hand, already backing up.

"There's your concert tickets, loser," he remarked. The cover up was genius- Dylan really was the best of the best when it came to dealing.

I eyed the paper bag disdainfully, wanting nothing more than to chuck it out a window and forget this whole thing. Instead, I shoved it into my hoodie pocket, and headed out the doors to show Riley my loot.