I Amsterdam (Completed)

Chapter 4.3 - Brandon

I was sprawled out in a chair, my back touching the backrest even when my butt was halfway off the edge of the seat. I remember thinking, what a cozy chair. It was made of black leather, and I took the pleasure of resting my elbows on the armrests, cupping my hands in the center of my chest and laying them on my lap, while I stretched my legs apart to stabilize myself as I slouched in my seat. I positioned myself so improperly that even though there was no headrest, my head was cushioned by the top of the chair. I cocked it to the side and eyed the principal suspiciously.

Principal Bakker walked over to me, eyeing me back. But while I looked at him with hatred and boredness, he looked at me with pity. It only made me hate him more.

Principal Bakker had white hair the color of snow reflecting the summer heat, but despite that, he looked strong and healthy. Wrinkles had yet to conquer his clean-shaven face. He always smelled a certain way, too, with an aroma that slightly resembled lavenders under a clear blue sky, with busy bees buzzing from flower to flower during the height of summer, but the smell definitely wasn't lavender.

He stood behind his desk, his hands stretched on the top of the table. I was on the other side, studying his every move. A frown was engraved onto my face. After some hesitation, he leaned back to settle into his green, coton swivel chair, and like me, cupped his hands on his lap.

"I think you know what this is about, don't you?" he asked, his voice bland.

"Well, why don't we avoid any confusion, and you just tell me?" I answered, my tone mimicking his.

He sighed, forcing a heavy chuckle. "I don't think there is any confusion, Mr. Koster, but I'll tell you anyway," he replied. "Your grades. They're dropping. And you know the reason why."

"I'm stumped. What is the reason, Mr. Bakker?" I crossed my arms on my chest, and turned my head to the other side, my eyes widening to emphasize my sarcastic curiosity.

"Your little boy gang, Brandon. Ever since they entered your life, you seemed to have forgotten about school. Your straight A's have gone down to C's, and even D's."

"And why should you care?" I argued flippantly.

"Because I'm the principal of this school, and I care for you, just like I care for every other student here."

"What about the other boys in my so-called 'gang'? What about Isaak? Stefan?"

"They've never tried in school. But you have. This isn't you, Brandon."

I narrowed my eyes and looked away, waiting to be excused. When I wasn't, I straightened my gaze to meet Principal Bakker's, challenging him. He had gray eyes that I suspected used to be more blue. Now, they only appeared lifeless with age. "Is that all?" I asked.

I could tell he didn't want to let me out of his sight, but replied, "Yes, thank you. That was all." His eyes followed me as I stood up, and left.

I walked out of the school to the parking lot where my friends were waiting.

"Hey, where were you Brandon? We were about to leave without you," Issak greeted me. We did a handshake - a smooth slap followed by a fist bump.

"Sorry 'bout that. Principal Bakker wanted to have a little chat," I replied.

"'Bout what?" chuckled Stefan, knocking knuckles with me.

"What else could it be? 'Bout my grades. He says they're dropping."

"Oh, did he give that little talk about how he cared for you?" Rye asked.

I smiled. "Yep."

Christiaan laughed. "Adults, man. What do you expect?" He clapped me around the back. "C'mon. Let's get him back."

"Huh?" I asked, not understanding.

"Yeah," Stefan said, smiling sinisterly. He pointed at Christiaan like he thought of something genius. "Let's prank him."

"You mean Principal Bakker?" I questioned.

"Yeah, you down for it?" Christiaan nudged me.

"Yeah, sure. But what are we going to do? And when?"

"Ok, here's the plan," Isaak declared, like the leader he was. "Tomorrow night, Principal Bakker is going out with his wife for their anniversary."

"How do you know that?" interjected Rye.

"Dude," Isaak said, smiling. "I can eavesdrop on any conversation I want to."

"At what time are they going?" asked Stefan.

"Eight," Isaak answered. "So at eight, we meet up at Rye's. Stefan, you and I will bring plastic bags full of crap. We're going to trash Principals Bakker's house. Is everyone good with that?"

We all nodded, our bodies shivering with excitement.

Isaak grinned from ear to ear. "Dope. Rye, you're driving. I call shotgun."