Page 140

The principal looked exasperated, and again, Hollis was surprised by who else was there.

He should have guessed that this was where Jorge had been this whole time. He was sitting there in his gray sweatshirt and sweatpants, arms folded, chin tilted away from the door so he didn’t have to watch Hollis walk in. Skin still pink and scarred.

Who he didn’t expect to see was Clementine.

“Hollis,” Mr. Feehan said. “I’m sure you know what we’re all here for.”

Walt sat down next to Clementine.

“I don’t.”

Mr. Feehan sighed.

“Normally, things that occur off school grounds are none of my business, but you seem to be on a roll when it comes to creating new and exciting exceptions, Hollis Brown. Clementine Robertson has brought to my attention some kind of video of a fight that’s been circulating?”

“Oh,” Walt said. “Okay.”

God I hate her.

“In this fight, it brings to question a decent amount of the statements you made in this room about the history of bullying you’ve received. Namely, the frequency and your ability to... handle such things?”

“Isn’t it your job to handle stuff like this? I’ve gotten my ass kicked six ways from Sunday for four solid years, and the first time I’ve made it into this office for retribution it’s for a single punch for a fight that I didn’t start or even want to be in?” Hollis said, before Walt could stop him.

Mr. Feehan stared at him in silence until Hollis felt foolish.

“See, Hollis, I’m not exactly sure what to think. Because from where I’m sitting it looks like only two options are available to you. In the first, it’s a straightforward story about jealousy and luck in which you and your friends coordinated together to victimize Jorge for the purpose of humiliation because of his... unfortunate treatment of your friend Annie. Which I don’t condone, by the way.

“The second option, and much more concerning, is that you have, for some reason, been allowing many members of the student body to enact violence upon your person without getting the authorities—myself or any other teachers—involved, while being entirely capable of defending yourself. And this—”

Mr. Feehan held up Clementine’s phone.

“—is the only proof that you could, all along. Now you understand why this would be more concerning. ‘Mandated appointment with a social worker’ concerning, right, Hollis?”

Hollis glanced over at Jorge. He was still refusing to look at him.

“Why is he here?” Hollis asked instead of answering the principal’s question.

“Hollis.”

Walt gritted their teeth.

“I don’t want to talk about this with him here,” Walt said.

Mr. Feehan sighed. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not in charge and I am. Answer the question, Hollis.”

Hollis glanced over at Clementine. She sneered at him.

Great.

“Fine. Yeah, I let people beat me up for fun or whatever. You happy? Does it make you feel better to know that no one, not even a single teacher cared because I could have knocked everyone out myself? I’m not the kind of person who asks for help, and I’m not the kind of person who doesn’t pay my debts.

“I like to say what I want. I’m doing better these days, but I can be a bastard and I know that. A part of that is understanding that people can react whatever way they see fit. This shouldn’t even be a problem anymore. I’m being nice; the fights stopped. Whether they stopped because I’m genuinely trying, or they stopped because no one liked watching that video and imagining themselves on the ground, the end goal is the same,” Hollis said, frustrated.

“I could say sorry to Jorge, but what does that even matter? None of this has ever been my fault when it comes to him, and I don’t get why he’s so focused on me anyway. I don’t like him or dislike him, he’s just always there making things slightly worse for no reason.

“We can do the whole social worker/shrink meetings thing, but we’ve got like five months of school left before graduation, and the problem has already stopped. How much more of this am I supposed to have to take? Who else that’s kicked my ass do you want me to talk about being self-destructive in front of? Why do I have to keep doing this in front of people that hate me?”

“No one here hates you—” Mr. Feehan started, but Hollis cut him off.

“ Surely you do. Why else would you force me to talk about feeling a way about myself that... that got me here in the first place?”

Oh, Hollis.

Hollis, I’m sorry.

Mr. Feehan opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked down at Clementine’s phone, then got up and handed it to her.

“You can go.”

“But!” Clementine looked horrified.

“Clementine Robertson,” Mr. Feehan said quietly. “You have the rest of your life to learn to think of someone other than yourself. Hopefully this... helped. Now go.”

Clementine rushed from the room, pink-faced, and closed the door hard.

Mr. Feehan rubbed his eyes.

“Hollis, you’re not going to like this, but it’s the best I can offer. Since this is a piece of media and I’m certain someone higher than me is going to see it, we can’t just do nothing and act like this isn’t repeated behavior. On paper it doesn’t look good. The district leadership isn’t from this town, they don’t know our struggles, and unless you’re prepared to give that speech to some city folk, you’re going to have to swallow this:

“We’re doing three weeks out-of-school suspension. Just enough to keep the district satisfied and eyes off the situation. We’ll also have to get your mother to sign off on this one, Jorge. Hollis, yours already knows. I wish she was more concerned, but she knows. As you both are aware, winter break starts this Wednesday. I’m going to arrange the suspension to take place largely over the break. It will start this afternoon, you’ve got the rest of this week, then the two weeks of break where everyone is off with two days left of it when we start back in January.”

“Oh.”

“When you get back we’ll have a meeting with the social worker, and she’ll assess whether the situation has resolved so we can send a formal statement to the district about the incident—but we both know it will be, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes,” Jorge said, to their surprise.

Mr. Feehan nodded. He grabbed a tissue from his desk and patted his sweaty forehead.

“This stops now. I want you both to have a good vacation, and when the new year starts, I want a brand-new Jorge and Hollis. We’re not doing this again; they don’t pay me enough.”

“Is this going to go on my record or be purged like that other thing?” Hollis asked, just to be sure.

Mr. Feehan shook his head. “This one will stick, kid. But if you spend the next five months on the straight and narrow, I’ll write you a letter of recommendation that will make your head spin. Might even leave you better off.”