Chapter 1 (Magcon)

"Ambivalence" Chapter 1

hate (n)
an intense or passionate dislike.

love (n)
an intense feeling of deep affection.

am•biv•a•lence (n)
the state of having mixed feelings or contradictory ideas about something or someone.

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"Please explain to me how the two of you had managed to land yourself in the Principal's office on the first day of school?"

"I don't know why you're stressin' Mr. Vernon," the 18 year old covered in spaghetti sauce next to me says, "You're lucky this didn't go down in first period, I mean this has gotta be some kind of record or something."

"Speaking of first period, Mr. Vernon," I say, interrupting the elderly man across the desk. I lean forward in my chair, causing a few noodles to slip off me and onto the floor, "I wanna know why the hell Dallas and I were put into the exact same classes again?" I gesture to the seat next to me, "I thought this whole joke of continuously putting Dallas and I in the same classes since pre-k ended last year?"

"I did too." The old man mumbles, rubbing at his temples.

"Yeah, can I complain about that too?" The teenage boy next to me says, raising his hand, "I didn't even sign up for any AP classes and yet my schedule's filled with them. I mean, 'AP English'?! English is my first language, I can English, I know how to do the English, why do I need to take an AP version of it?"

"I mean seriously he's not even cut out for elementary Language Arts." I say with a roll of my eyes.

"Evans, we're talking about English, not Art. Get with the program."

I raise my eyebrows and look at the principal, "You see what I mean?"

Mr. Vernon puts his hands down on the desk. The two of us has spent so much time in this office that our asses are practically imprinted into these seats. "Mr. Dallas, with your abundance of absences in your Junior year due to those convention and tour things you attend, your GPA has dropped significantly. You've also managed to miss registration day, therefore a letter was sent to your home."

I roll my eyes and sit back in my chair, crossing my arms, "Surprise, surprise." I mutter under my breath.

"I had some talks with your mother and she had made it clear that she wanted you taking AP classes. She knew that if you put in enough effort into doing your school work as you do trying to stay away from it, that you'd be able to handle the AP expectations. And passing those advanced classes is the best chance you've got to improving your GPA."

"This is ridiculous. Can I just drop out of them?"

"You can't drop out of a class without parental consent, idiot." I say, "You may as well just drop out of school."

"Oh good, then I won't have to see you again."

"Unless you two want a month's of detention, I need you to be quiet." Mr. Vernon says sternly, though his attempts to sound in control had stopped working with the two of us in freshman year when our visits here were weekly. "And stop moving around so much, you're getting the office messy."

"Wait, you're not giving us detention?" I ask, feeling a weight lift from my shoulder. Though that could just be the spaghetti noodles falling off.

The principal across from us waves his hand dismissively at my question, "We'll discuss that later. But now, Mr. Dallas, I'd like to know what your plans for your future are?"

Dallas's eyebrow's come together, "Isn't this like the guidance counselor's job or something?"

"Last time I sent you to your guidance counselor you answered every question with 'I'm gonna get famous' for an entire half hour. I'm not putting your guidance counselor through that again."

"Well I was right, wasn't I?" He says with a shrug and I roll my eyes for the fiftieth time that day. Here we go again. "Mr. Vernon, the only reason we go to school is to get into a good college so that we get a good job so that we can make a lot of money. Well I'm making a lot of money now, so why do I need to go to school?"

"You need the money to support yourself, Dallas. And all you've been doing is spending it all on fancy cars that you barely know how to drive." I say.

"I know you're unfamiliar with this whole famous thing, Evans, but at this rate I have enough money to buy a mansion, travel the world, and buy 10 more cars."

"'At this rate'." I repeat sarcastically with over exaggerated quotation marks, "Your looks are the only thing keeping you on your feet right now, Dallas. What's gonna happen when you start wrinkling? How big will your fame be then?"

"So what I'm hearing is that you agree that I'm good looking?" He smirks.

I lean forward in my chair to fire a remark back, but I'm interrupted by Mr. Vernon, "Unfortunately," he says in a loud voice, "we'll have to have this discussion another time, Mr. Dallas. Today after school. Right after you and Ms. Evans clean both my office and the school cafeteria spotless."

Dallas and I's jaws drop in disbelief at the same moment before we start defending ourselves, "Why should I clean the cafe?"

"He's the one who spilled food all over my stuff!"

"She started throwing food first!"

"It got all over my job applications!"

"It got all up in my hair!"

"Technically, he started it!"

"Do you know how long it takes to get my hair like this?!"

"Enough." Vernon slams a fist onto his desk and we're immediately cut off by silence. "I don't know who started it, or what happened, but I do know that it was because of you two that the office is getting calls from very concerned parents on the first day of school. You're lucky I'm not suspending you guys."

"Mr. - "

He holds up a finger to silence me, "However, I've chosen not to suspend you because it is, well, the first day of school, and your records are tainted enough by the trouble you two have been causing since elementary school."

I let out a sigh of relief.

"Ms. Evans, I know how much going to an exceptional college means to you and I suggest you work harder to stay out of trouble. And Mr. Dallas," the teenage boy raises an eyebrow, as if preparing himself to laugh if the principal brought up college and its nonexistent value to him, "Just stop getting you and Ms. Evans into trouble."

"No promises, sir."

Mr. Vernon sighs, as if expecting that response, "Then I guess that's it for now. Clean yourselves up first and then you can head to your next class. Try not to kill each other on the way there. That would look very bad for the school."

"So we can go?" Dallas asks.

"Yes - " Dallas and I spring out of our chairs and rush to the office door at the same time, shoving each other in the process.

"Move!"

"Get out of my way!"

"Don't touch me!"

"Guys!" Mr. Vernon says behind us and we pause to look back at him. He holds his hands up, "Seriously?"

I bite down on my lip and the two of us walk out of the office like normal, civil people. I head for the girls bathroom to clean up right after throwing a glare at Dallas, "I hate you."

He throws a smirk back, "Love you too."