CHAPTER FOUR: PERSUASION

The next day I barely had enough energy to drag my feet through the hallways at school. I regretted staying up all night, but the gruesome events beforehand had made sleep basically impossible.
    Chief Edwards had taken blood samples from my clothes for testing and said they’d contact us whenever they got the results back. He also had taken the precaution of having a squad car stationed outside of the house throughout the night.
    After much arguing, I convinced my mothers to let me drive my own car home. I wanted to check it myself for anything that could possibly be out of place. When I parked, I spent a good hour searching, but the only difference seemed to be that the interior looked much cleaner than I had previously left it.
    By the time I went inside, it was well past one in the morning. Instead of locking my window and crawling into bed, I headed straight for the bathroom. I buried my dirty clothes at the bottom of the laundry hamper and took an hour long shower, scrubbing my skin with a washcloth until it burned.
    I laid in bed a good two hours after that, too consumed in my own thoughts to sleep. I was confused, discontent, and paranoid. There had to be an explanation for what happened. I couldn’t have imagined the entire thing.
    Eventually I had ran back into the bathroom, dug my bloodstained work clothes out of the hamper, and hugged them to my chest while I cried, the entire time questioning my own sanity.
    Originally, I wasn’t planning on going to school today. But staying home alone seemed dangerous for my mentality. So I drug myself out of bed and signed myself in late.
    Now, as I walked through the hallway, I crossed my arms across my chest, barely daring to peer out of the corners of my eyes. I tried not to pay attention to the fingers unsubtly pointing, the lips quickly moving, or feel the pressure of a hundred eyes on my back. By reactions, it was obvious that people thought I had either lost my mind, or committed murder.
    I tried to hurry to second period, to get myself out of the limelight. I hated feeling so self-conscious.
    The classroom fell silent as I walked through the threshold. I let out an exhausted sigh, then ducked my head as I proceeded to my desk.
    “Hey,” I solemnly greeted my friends. I sunk down into the hard plastic chair and dropped my backpack on the ground next to me.
    No one acknowledged me in return. I looked up, now agitated. Lexi shifted uncomfortably in her seat and looked away as soon as our eyes met. Payton gave a stressed smile, but refused eye contact as well.
    Jacoby swung around to face me. “Lexi thinks that you’re crazy,” he stated. I noticed that she shot him an anxious look. “But I believe you.”
    Lexi’s cheeks flushed bright red. “I do not!” Her protest didn’t hold much sincerity, though.
    “Seriously, who doesn’t think that Riley is crazy?” Jill intervened from the desk in front of us. She turned, a small, sardonic smile playing her bright pink stained lips.
    I felt a chill run up my spine and bit down hard on my tongue. Most of the time I let her verbal attacks roll past, but today I was unnerved, on the edge of derailing.
    In eighth grade, Jill began to ascend the social ladder at rapid rate. Up until that point, we had been unrepeatable. I wasn’t nearly as outgoing or people-friendly as she was, so I withdrew to myself, leading to a rather nasty falling out. Her way of coping was attempting to humiliate me daily. I could only imagine what she had to say today.
    “So, Riley, have you seen any blood today?” she continued to mock.
    When I didn’t gratify her with a response, she stood up and threw her hands out in front of herself and screamed dramatically. “There is so much blood!” she cried.
    A few people in her clique laughed, but she wasn’t done. “Maybe if you had a normal family, you’d be less of a freak.”
    “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up,” I growled.
    This seemed to please her. Her lips drew up into that smug grin again. “Having a n****r second mom must really screw a person up. This is why gays shouldn’t be allowed to have kids.”
    That comment was low, even for her. She just make the mistake of over-stepping the boundaries. I made a sound that I’m not sure was entirely human and lurched out of my chair, knocking it to the ground with a loud clatter. My fingers shaped themselves into claws as they reached for her throat.
    Before I even touched her she began to shriek. I caught her by the hair when she tried to run, close to where it as rooted into the back of her skull, and yanked her back.
    Despite how small we both were, when we hit the ground, we landed hard. I didn’t waste much time dwelling on the minimal pain, though. Blind rage powered me. I wrapped my legs around her and rolled until I was straddling her hips. Since my hands were still wrapped in her hair, I yanked her head forward then slammed it back down onto the laminate tiles, where it made a hollow thunk.
    “You are a pretentious b***h!” I snarled. “Who the f**k do you think you are?!”
    In an attempt of self-defense, she racked her hot pink painted nails at my face, but I leaned away, out of their reach. They settled for trying to pierce through the fabric of my jacket sleeves instead.
    I unwrapped one hand so that I could pop her on the nose. The bone made a quick, sharp snap. Blood splashed onto my fingers when it broke.
    She cried out and threw her hands over her face as I drew my arm back to strike one more time, still not satisfied.
    Much to my displeasure, before I could deliver the blow, a strong pair of arms wrapped around my waist and yanked me off of her and into the air. Once I was hoisted up she rolled over and crawled a few feet away. Blood continued to drip from her nose and through the spaces in her fingers as they clamped over it.
    I kicked and flailed, fury over-powering my rationality.
    “Calm down, Mariah!”
    I thrashed harder. “Let go of me, Sebastian!” I demanded.
    “No.”
    “The b***h needs to learn a lesson!”
    “Do you want to get expelled?”
    “With you here? Yes.” I answered without hesitation.
    “Ouch.”
    “Good. I hope that tones down your stupid ego. NOW LET GO OF ME SO I CAN KILL HER!”
    A circle had formed around Jill, who was sobbing hysterically on the ground. Rebecca held a wad of tissues to her face to catch blood as it continued to drip from her nose. “Keep her away from me!” Jill screeched from the center.
    I spat at her, but it missed her face and hit her hair instead. “I hope you rot in Hell, you racist, bigot piece of trash!” I yelled.
    The classroom door slammed shut and everyone turned their attention across the room. “What’s going on in here?!” Mr. Glory wasted no time assessing the situation. “I’m out of the room for five minutes and a fight breaks out. Rebecca, take Jill to the nurse. Riley. Hallway. Now.”
    Sebastian set me down and I forcefully knocked his arms away. I flashed Jill my middle finger as I passed. She shrunk down, her eyes red and puffy from crying.
    “Come on. Outside.” My Glory held the door open for the four of us.
    He waited for Jill and Rebecca to make it to the stairwell before he turned to me. “Children can be so cruel,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m sure she deserved it. But for the sake of being fair, care to enlighten me?”
    “She called my mom a derogatory word.”
    He placed a finger to his lips and nodded. “I cannot tolerate violence in my classroom. I hope you understand that I still have to send you to the principal for this, as much as I don’t want to.”
    I sighed and hung my head. “So do I need a pass or something? Or do you just want me to go?” I took a step backwards, readying for the familiar route to the office.
    
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Harold was sitting behind his desk, casually flipping through a stack of papers. When he noticed me, he didn’t look pleased. “Hello, Riley.”
    “’Sup?” I nodded my head and casually fell into the chair opposite his desk.
    “It’s early,” he said, eyebrow raised.
    I shrugged. “New record.”
    He folded his hands and gave me a suggestive look. I shifted in the chair. “I think I broke Jill McOwen’s nose,” I mischievously informed him.
    He let out an exhausted groan. “This is not a good start for the day,” he grumbled to himself. He spun around in his chair towards the filing cabinet behind his desk and routinely pulled out the manila folder with my name on it.
    “Violence has grounds for expulsion. I hope you’re aware of that.”
    “Actually slipped my mind. I’m not too concerned though.”
    “You should be. It goes on your permanent record.”
    “I think I’ll survive.”
    He gave me a pessimistic look; the kind a grandfather might give to his misbehaving granddaughter. For the first time in three years, I felt guilty. I slumped down in the chair and adverted my eyes to the carpet, my attitude instantly changing.
    While Harold busied himself with paperwork, there was a knock on the office door. It slowly opened, and Sebastian stepped into the room. “Principal Wyatt, I’m very sorry to intrude,” he said, catching the old mans attention. “I just got back from the nurses office, and Jill appears to have a broken nose. Mrs. Harper is calling her parents now to take her to the hospital. But I digress; I’m here on Mariah’s behalf.”
    The principal ran his hand across his mouth. “Continue.”
    “Are you aware of the rumors that have been circulating through the school today about the incident at Baxter’s Diner last night?”
    “Yes, I am aware.”
    “When Mr. Glory stepped out of his room, Jill provoked Mariah. Clearly, Mariah was still distraught and traumatized, so she lashed out. I don’t believe she should be punished.”
    Harold held up a finger, signaling a moment. “I’m sorry, you don’t look familiar. What is your name?” he asked.
    Sebastian offered a rueful smile. “Sebastian Kline. I’m new here.”
    “Well, Sebastian, as much as I don’t want to discipline Riley over the what appears to be a provoked situation, it’s beyond my control. She caused physical damage to another student. The school policy states that she must be suspended.”
    “I think you should reconsider.”
    “I’m sorry, but-” he looked up at Sebastian again and paused. His bushy eyebrows pulled down momentarily, then his facial features relaxed.  
    “Mariah shouldn’t be punished for self-defense.” Sebastian drew the sentence out. Though he spoke calmly, there was an underlying assertiveness in the words.
    The principal slowly nodded, seeming dazed. “No, she won’t be punished,” he agreed. I perked in my seat, turning to look back at Sebastian, who was still standing casually in front of the door.
    “Jill, on the other hand, should receive suspension for bullying.”
    “Jill will be suspended for bullying,” he repeated.
    “Well,” Sebastian looked down at me, a proud grin stretching across his face, “glad things got cleared up. We should be getting back to class. Goodbye, Principal Wyatt!”
    He grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my feet. I obediently followed, unsure what to make of the situation. I turned to give a last glance at Harold, who was cupping the side of his face and slowly shaking his head from side to side. His lips were moving, indicating that he was mumbling to himself.
    “What happened just now?” I demanded as Sebastian pulled me out into the hall. I yanked my wrist from his grip and took a few steps away.
    “I persuaded your way out of expulsion.” When I didn’t say anything, he chuckled. “You’re welcome,” he added smugly.
    I snapped out of the confounded stare. “I didn’t need your help,” I bit back. “How did you do that, anyways?” I recalled their moment of intense eye contact, how unnatural it looked. “Are you like a hypnotist or something?”
    He stopped walking and began to laugh. I glared. Given the circumstance, the assumption wasn’t that bizarre.
    “Okay, so if I’m wrong, how did you do it?”
    “Like I said; persuasion. I’m generally very good at getting my way.”
    “That wasn’t persuasion, though,” I pointed out, “it was more like demanding.”
    “Regardless, at least you’re record is clean.”
    It was my turn to laugh. “If only.”
    “Are you telling me that you’re a dirty girl?”
    I sighed and looked over at him from the corners of narrowed eyes. “Stop,” I said flatly.
    “What are you doing after school?”
    I held up a hand. “I’m not interested,” I said, tone flat. “Thank you for your help today, but I need to get to second period.”