Instead of reporting to the Headmaster’s office after my… episode, I absent-mindedly ran through the halls without looking where I was going. I took advantage of my getting lost, picked a room, and let out all the tears, screams, “I’m so stupid”s, and nose-goo resulting from a mixture of sleepiness, hormones, and embarrassment. A while into that and I fell asleep. I woke up stuffy-nosed and bleary-eyed some unknown amount of time later in what should be a former staff lounge somewhere in the Northeast Wing of the school.
I rubbed my eyes. There wasn’t much in the room—not much that I could discern in the darkness, anyway. The windows were covered by heavy, dark burgundy drapes that shut out any hint of the sun (which is why I couldn’t tell what time it was). The only light in the room came from the crack in the door from the hallway. Even then, the light was very dim, and I could only just discern the outlines of a desk here, a sofa there, etc.
Sitting against the wall for a few more moments, I chewed on the situation at hand. I was somewhere in the North East wing. I was supposed to be in the Headmaster’s office. I had been sent there by Professor von Trappe for…
I didn’t want to continue that trail of thought. Instead, I skipped to the conclusion: I was in deep, DEEP doo-doo. I had embarrassed myself, my class, and my school, and I didn’t follow through on a professor’s instructions. I, Raven Shampine, the measly, struggling student at Eclaire Academy, probably just lost my scholarship.
Sighing, I stood up from my seat on the floor—there was nothing to do now but face what I put off, I suppose. Slowly slipping on my shoes (I think I kicked them off while I was asleep), I made my way to the door. Grabbing the brass handle, however, I heard footsteps coming down the hallway, followed by one of the last voices I wanted to hear.
“I can assure you, Prime Minister, that the administration here at Eclaire will make every effort to accommodate for your grandson’s needs. As you saw, the daughter of your Secretary of Defense, Ashlyn Osimov, is already in attendance, along with the children of other distinguished figures around the globe—”
I cringed, hoping they were going to turn a corner and walk somewhere else—forgetting, of course that there were no corners in the North East wing hallway. Then again, I wouldn’t have noticed my first time around. I was crying too much.
“Ah, yes, Ashlyn! Darling girl. Well, Mr. Bentley, Eclaire Academy has certainly impressed me. I’m shocked at myself for not considering this school earlier. Daniel here, I’m sure, will—“
“Not be attending.” A younger voice interrupted.
The footsteps stopped; nobody said anything. Finally, Headmaster Bentley spoke, much of his confident all-business tone gone. His voice was so low in volume, I could barely hear it through the thick wooden door.
“I see. Prime Minister, I think this would be a good time for me to take my leave and let you and Daniel work things out.”
I couldn’t hear a vocal reply, if there was one. A pair of footsteps walked back down the hallway. The other two continued onwards. There was no noise for a while, except for the taps of their shoes on the floor.
I held my breath. They should almost be outside of this room now. As soon as they reach the end of the hallway, they’ll probably take the elevator to the roof (I heard they took a helicopter over here). As soon as they were gone, I was making a run for it.
The footsteps were about five feet away, four feet, three, two…
They stopped.
“Well, Daniel?” The Prime Minister asked. His tone was cool and collected; I couldn’t guess at what he was thinking.
The “Daniel” character didn’t reply.
“Won’t you tell me why you don’t want to attend Eclaire?”
A pair of footsteps started to walk again.
“Daniel, please,” the Prime Minister continued. His voice still sounded from the other side of the door, so I suppose those footsteps belonged to Daniel. “You know I have to enroll you here. There’s no other way. I would have done so earlier, but Justin never told me that—”
The Prime Minister cut himself short for a moment.
“I just want to let you know, Daniel. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you earlier. I didn’t know that my son was having affairs. I… if I had been told about you, I would—“
“Have done nothing.” Daniel coldly interrupted, finally speaking.
“That’s not true! Even though Justin was foolish, you are my grandson! You are my only flesh and blood in the world! There is no bond stronger than that, Daniel. We are the only ones that we Crossmans have left.”
Daniel burst out angrily. “We Crossmans? I’m sorry, Prime Minister,” he spat, “But you are mistaken. My name is not Daniel Crossman, it is Daniel Chapman. I am not your flesh and blood, and nor will I ever be. You can spout whatever crap you want, but I know better and you do too. You knew about me. You always knew about me. You knew about me since the day my mom said she was pregnant. You’re the one who paid her off to shut her up. You’re the one who just sat there and refused to respond to a single message when Mom was in the hospital. I was in the orphanage for two years before your damn daughter-in-law decided to marry some Mafia boss. I’m not your grandson. I’m your heir, since you can’t give the money to anyone else. But you know what? I don’t even care. You can just take everything you own and shove it, because I don’t want any of it.”
And then Daniel violently pushed open the door that my ear was so elegantly pressed against.
No comments:
Post a Comment