The Loner and the Prep (bxb)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Watson P.O.V

When I went to the nurse's office, I didn't think anything would happen. I had been so unaware of anything else when Keith was harassing me that I didn't even remotely notice that someone had been recording me. The fact that my friend had been standing at the end of the hallway recording everything while it happened solely to get evidence that I was being bullied, left me speechless. But the video itself left me just as mute as the overall creation of said video.

After the entire school chose to ignore the bullying, never once standing up for me, it wasn't weird for me to simply give up on the thought that someone would ever try and help. I really should have expected it, considering my knight in shining armor was Evelyn. From the moment she stopped the bullying the first time, I should have known that she wouldn't allow the bullying to continue if she thought for even a second, she could do something about it. In the end, she most definitely found a way to do something about it.

It was weird, watching the video. Seeing it happen from a third-person like view made me feel sick inside. That view, the view the video provided, was the same thing my peers saw every time they witness Keith and his group of friends harassing me. That was what my peers saw and chose to ignore. The thought of it made me sick to my stomach. If they were in my place, they would have wanted someone to stop Keith, for someone to say something.

If the school saying 'treat people the way you want to be treated' were something people actually followed, then my peers would be singing an entirely different tune.

When the video stopped playing, the office suddenly felt one-hundred times smaller than it actually was. With the evidence, there was no way the school could ignore the bullying.

"I would like to personally apologize for the behavior of your peer, Mr. Johnson, and I would like to assure you that he will receive a punishment worthy of his offenses," The principal said as he turned his laptop back around to face him once again. There was a look of sympathy in the other man's eyes. "I would like to ask you a few secondary questions if you don't mind answering them,"

I nodded, even though I wanted to say no. It would probably seem suspicious and weird if I just denied answering questions. The questions would be about the bullying, and I know for a fact that he'd dig deeper than I'd be comfortable with.

"Please know that these questions just aim to learn more about what's been going on," It was the way he said it that made it sound like it was a good thing. He'd be asking some questions that would poke into a part of my life that I've kept hidden. Would I be able to answer them without tensing up? Without lying? "Please know that you don't have to answer any of these questions, but it would be helpful if you do,"

I nodded, acknowledging his statement and giving him the approval to begin his questioning.

"Let's start with how long as the bullying been going on?" That was one of the questions I had been expecting, considering how much the answer changed the impact of the bullying. Saying something like a few weeks would make the principal feel better about it, but it would be a lie. Even though the temptation to lie was strong, this was one of the questions that lying to would do more harm than good.

But his question did make me think. The bullying didn't get to the point that it was now until after high school started, but it was clear that my peers didn't like me even back in middle school. A lot of it had to do with my peers being homophobic, but you really couldn't use that excuse on all of them. I tried telling that to the principal in fewer words, hoping the same message got across. Based on the look that appeared on the principal's face, he clearly understood what I meant.

Although I hadn't been too sure about the principal's stance on homosexuality, his reaction gave way that he was not homophobic. At least, his expression didn't give way that he was.

"Is Mr. Johnson your only bully, or are their more?" Another question I had thought he would mention, but this one, I had been hoping he wouldn't bring up. They all deserved to get punished for bullying me, but that subconscious fear of it blowing up in my face remained regardless of me knowing they would definitely get into trouble now.

This was my chance to speak up. The one time I had someone who could actually do something listening to me. With that thought in mind, I mentioned everyone worthy of mentioning, making sure that the principal knew the offenses of each one. They might all run in the same crowd, but they weren't all guilty of the same crimes.

The principal jolted down everything that I said, but I knew that it probably wouldn't result in much. Aside from Keith, the others would likely getaway, maybe a day or two of detention if even that. It was better than nothing, though.

"I'll look into these," He gestured towards the names he wrote down on the pad of paper. "Immediately," A knock on the office door caught both of our attention, but it was evident that the principal had been expecting someone because he said for the person to come in without inquiring who the person on the other side was.

I wish he had warned me of who exactly he was letting into the office because the last person I expected it to be was my father.

I tensed up, but the principal didn't notice. For once, my father didn't smell of alcohol. He wore a clean outfit, one without stains or holes. He looked like a normal father. Is that what my father would have looked like if he wasn't a drunkard? An illusion of normality that I knew would fade away the moment we were alone.

He walked further into the office, a natural glare on his face. I could already imagine the screaming he'd do the moment no one was around to hear. I was already dreading it. My father sat down in the chair next to me, his posture screaming he'd rather be anywhere but here.

"You didn't explain much over the phone, Mr. West, care to explain to me why I was called and summoned to the school?" My father was immediately displaying his hatred of being asked to come to the school. I avoided the principal's eyes; knowing looks could give a lot away. One wrong look could reveal more than I was willing to allow.

If the principal knew the signs of child abuse, he'd notice, right? That eagerness filled me, even if the idea scared me. The many, many things that could go wrong if I pursued that path, the path of revealing my father's abusive nature.

But at this point . . . would someone finding out be such a bad thing?