Maddie Syracuse Vs. The Dean

October 19, 2009
I stood with with my hand on the doorknob of the dean's office. My fingers nervously tapped against the metal, and after I finally finished staring intently at the blurred window of the door I gripped it firmly and twisted. Pushing open the door, the dean turned from the window to me. Buttoning his blazer at the middle button, he turned to me and smiled. "Miss Syracuse?" He asked, gesturing to the chair across from his desk with a flat palm. I nodded, and quietly sat. The emotions running through my mind ranged from a panic attack to a psychopathic rage to a dull depression.

A panic attack, because I was afraid of authority figures. I always had been. I don't know how it started, but it for sure wasn't some sob story about my dad or something. A psychopathic rage, because I had no reason to be here. The man had the wrong girl. And dull depression because this was always how things turned out.

As the dean took his place behind the large mahogany desk, he folded his hands ontop of it and stared at me intently through his thin, silver-wired glasses.

I disliked the man already.

I sat myself down in the cheap pleather chair, and immediately my fingers began nervously picking at the breaking pieces of the old chair. Letting my eyes wander away from the dean's, I saw the harsh reminder of where I was. The large mahogany desk.

It was large enough to loom and small enough to not distract from the bookish aesthetic of the room. The side which I sat on held the proof that others had been there before me. Deliquents had carved foul words and pictures in the refined wood. People much worse than me, and yet here I sat in the same chair they had. In the same position. And to make things worse, on the side where the dean sat, the desk was impeccably well kept and elegant.

I sighed, and let my eyes go back to the dean's.

"Miss Sycracuse, this is the first time you've been called to my office, so I will give you a tad more leeway then I would, say, Gregory Hashley." Just, P.S. Gregory Hashley was a guy who managed to step on all the wrong toes, and be ecstatically chipper while he did so. "But, know this, Miss Syracuse: I run a tight ship here at Worthly Academy, and I will be damned if I let my status fall because of the likes of Gregory Hashley, or you, or any other student for that matter. I've worked harder than you ever will, Miss Syracuse. And mark my words, if you cause trouble like what you've done again... I will personally take it upon myself, and eliminate you from the Academy."

Okay, so when he refers to the 'what I've done,' it may seem like he's making a big deal. Well, he's being understandably reasonably for what he thinks I did. I sat in the chair, and looked out the window. There was a clear view of the court yard.

And that was there it happened.

I had been sitting with my friends, when suddenly a girl named Hayley Richards stood up from where she was, and started walking my way. Let's be truthful here: I wasn't popular. Hayley was.

She finally comes to a stand in front of me, and while she stood there looking down at me she started laughing. "I have never seen anything so pathetic as your attempt to be normal, Maddie." She said to me.

It was the most unprovoked, rude, and odd thing that had ever happened to me. I stood up and brushed off my uniform. "I've never seen anything more pathetic than your attempt to be anything but a s***." I returned, with a happy smile, patting her on her shoulder, and as I stepped over where my friends sat on the lawn, she pulled my arm and as I looked over she suckerpunched me right in my jaw.

Of course I fought back.

And of course Hayley's friends jumped in.

And of course mine did too.

And then there was this massive gang fight, and obviously Hayley was trying to pin the strange occurance on me. I had a huge bruise on my jaw, and it only happened this afternoon! The dean couldn't possibly think for a moment I'd let Hayley do that to me in a fair fight. But what did I expect? Teachers always sided with the popular kids. I'm not sure why, but I think it's because they were pathetic and nerdy in school, so they want to be smiled upon by the starry-eyed, bleach-blonde, spray tanned youth of our generation.

It was.. well, for lack of a better word, pathetic.

And so I sat there looking at the dean, and I smiled softly to myself.

"That being said, Miss Syracuse, I think I will just give you Saturday school for the next seven weeks. You're dismissed."

My mouth dropped. Seven weeks? I stood and grabbed my referral from his dumb, old man hands. "Seven weeks?" I repeated, eyes wide.

"You started a fight at an Academy that has managed to have a track record for nonviolent tendencies, <i>Miss</i> Syracuse." He returned, with a tone of finality in the word 'Miss.'

I looked at him. "For one, my name is Maddie. For two, I didn't start the fight, Hayley did. And for three, there's a fight every other day here, <i>Mister</i> Dean <i> Sir</i>." I returned with the same heat, if not more.

"You will fix your tone, Miss Syracuse." He commanded before continuing with, "And I have it on the best authority that you indeed started the fight."

I rolled my eyes, "Oh yeah? And who is your best authority? Hayley? Yeah, because that's a good person to ask!"

"Not only Hayley, Miss Somerset, Miss French, and Miss Dare as well."

"They were all the ones helping Hayley fight! Why not ask Felicity or Sam? Or a bystander? Hayley stomped up to unprovoked and insulted me for no apparent reason, and I matched her tit for tat she sucker punched me in the jaw! Not only did she start a fight, but it was a coward's hit! It wasn't even a <i>fair</i> fight!" I clenched my teeth against the rest of my words, and the dean and I held gazes for an extended moment. Finally, he broke the contest and motioned to the referral in his hand with his eyes.

I sighed, and took the referral. "See you for the next seven weeks," I huffed, and then came to a stand.

When it comes to a battle between a student and a teacher, even if the teacher is wrong... The student will always lose the battle, furthermore they'll lose the war as well.

And as I walked out of the room, I whispered, "D***." Just to have a tiny little victory against that outrageous excuse for a man.





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