Life Of A Bitch

6

Brandon looks at me for a second and walks away. I lower my eyes, mumble "sorry" to his back and watch him walking away stiffly. I am now drowning in an ocean of guilt. I can do anything for him to forgive me. But he won't.

Did Brandon just exit the principal's office?

My God, yes. It's too late now. Clenching my fist, I spin on my heels and start walking towards my class.

Still, no harm in begging for forgiveness, huh?

I spin on my heels again and yank the door of the office open.

"May I come in sir?" I ask, a little too loudly, startling Mr. Bennett.

Smooth.

"Yes, come in, Miss Lewis." He says, smiling. Why is he smiling? Isn't he being too kind to someone who trashed the locker of the student president? Or is he hiding his sinister self behind his smile?

"Sir, what happened today was a very bad mistake. I am ashamed of it and I assure you it will never happen in the fu-"

"Wait wait, slow down." He takes off his spectacles and looks at me in the eye. "What are you talking about?"

Seriously, sir? You want me to recount the entire shameful incident? Fine then, suit yourself. I begin.

"As student president Mr. Lancaster might have complained to you that-"

"Am I missing something here, Miss Lewis?" Mr. Bennett says, an expression of genuine confusion in his eyes. "Mr. Lancaster did not make a complaint. Did something serious happen that I did not hear of?"

What?

"I am sorry?" I say. Have my ears gone bad? Do I need to use a hearing-aid so early in my life? "Brandon did not make a complaint?"

"No. He did not."

I stare at him, unable to believe what he just said. My brain is finding it very hard to process such information. "But.. he.. he just.. he just entered here."

"That was to take a pass for missing two classes. He said there was a water bottle in in his locker which burst, drenching his binders, books and making a mess that he needed to clean everything up before it leaked into the neighbouring lockers and caused more damage."

This is too much strain for my brain to handle. I think I am having a  stroke. Okay, nearly having one.

"But what happened? What were you talking about?" He glares at me suspiciously. "Is there something that I need to know, Miss Lewis?"

"Oh no!" I laugh, shaking my head. "Actually it was my bottle that burst. I had lent to Brandon my bottle which was already leaking and I forgot to warn him about it." I pretend to hesitate now. "You know how our relationship is. Even if it is a mistake, we think it's a well-planned scheme by the others to harm us. So, I don't want to cause any more misunderstanding and I want to clean it up. May I get passes to miss two classes, sir? For ethic's sake?"

Mr. Bennett looks at me for some time. Finally, he says, "That is very thoughtful of you, Miss Lewis. I appreciate the fact that you are trying to mend your relationship. You may have a pass."

I take a pass from him and walk out of the office, still bewildered by what Mr. Bennett told me.

Why didn't Brandon complain? Why did he lie? He knew quite well who did it and he hates us so, I don't see any reason for him to not complain.

I enter the hall and squint into the distance. There he was, calmly putting all the garbage into a large black trash-bag.

I cannot do it.

You have to, my conscience says.

No. I cannot face Brandon.

If you want to make things right, you have to. There's no other choice.

I slowly walk towards him. He doesn't see me coming as his back is towards me, crouching over the bag.

"Uh," I say.

He turns and looks at me, his expression blank.

"You still have something that you forgot to stuff in here?" He asks me, his voice amazingly composed. Which makes me feel even small. I'm so worthless he doesn't even bother to be angry with me.

"I, uh, willcleanupthemessyoucangobacktoyourclass." I mutter quickly, eager to finish with the talking. Stupid me. As if doing this things any easier.

"Pardon?"

"You can go back to your class. I will clean up the mess."

He stares at me, incredulous. Then he stands up and brushes his jeans. "No, thank you. I prefer to do it on my own."

"No," I say, desperate to end this conversation. "I will do it."

"Please," He says, his tone hard, without any pleading emotions. "Leave me in peace."

"I took passes from the principal and told him I would deal with your locker, not you." My tone hardens suddenly and becomes business like- what is happening? I show him the passes. "He will be expecting you in the class, not loitering in the halls skipping classes. I suggest you to go back to your class without any delay. A student president skipping classes does not look nice."

I catch a glimpse of a fleeting emotion in his eyes- anger, yes, anger and frustration-frustranger. He must hate me now, in the way U.S hates Russia. No, more than that. Definitely more than that.

"Fine," he mutters, thrusting the cloth with which he was cleaning the locker into my hands. "As you wish." He turns to go.

Should I ask him?

No! Curiosity killed the cat!

But I need to! I'm dying to know why he did what he did.

Curiosity killed the-

"You didn't make a complaint today about the locker-trashing incident."

He stops in his tracks and looks at me.

"Why?" I ask. "You hate me. And this was a perfect opportunity to get me, the girls, and even Aiden punished. Then why didn't you?"

He pauses a moment before speaking. "Some things are not that important to me. You are definitely not. You are the least important thing to me. And I consider it a waste of time to punish people who don't care and who won't change even if their lives were at stake. I don't like to waste my time on useless things."

To say it broke my heart would be an understatement.

Curiosity killed the cat.