3. In Need of Guidance
I run around the track for the third time in the row. The gym teacher got mad at me, so he told me to run around the track until I couldn’t feel my legs. And if he caught me walking, he would send me to detention.
I hear footsteps running behind me. Before I know it, a boy is running next to me, staring me down the entire time.
“Hey, Stella.” he says, almost out of breathe.
“Hi… Do I know you?” I say.
“No, but I know you.” he says.
“How?” I say.
“I checked your Twitter. And Instagram. And Facebook. You have a very interesting life.”
“Okay. You’re creepy. Bye.” I start to run a little faster.
“Wait! The guys were wondering if you wanted to come over tonight!” he says, almost completely out of breath.
“No thanks!” I scream and run faster.
That’s when I realize. This guys are billionaires. They must be loaded. Which means…..
I stop and turn around to face him. “Sure.” I say, “Only if I can bring a friend.”
“Sure!” he says, and run off.
“I’m not going.” Ginger says, shaking her head. Little does she know, she doesn’t have a choice.
“But you don’t understand! These guys are rich!” I say.
“So?” she says, cleaning her bowling ball.
“Rich. Meaning that they have money. Meaning they have a lot of nice things. Nice things to take.” I say slowly.
Ginger was finally about to understand when someone comes over the PA system and blares, “STELLA CINNAMON! PLEASE COME TO MR. ANDERSEN’S OFFICE, PLEASE.”
“Ugh!” I scream back and trail off to the office.
I stop at the Guidance Office and make my way towards the door that says, “Mr. Angel Andersen, Sophomore Guidance Counselor.”
I open the door and see him sitting in his desk. I’m not sure what type of emotional trauma had to happen to him for him to become a guidance counselor, but growing up with a name like Angel probably didn’t help.
“Ah! Miss. Cinnamon, please sit down.” he gestures towards the seat in front of his desk.
I sit down and look at him.
He was bald and two earrings in each ear. I think he used to be in the army.
“So, I hear that you are causing some trouble.” he says, accusingly.
I shake my head.
“Listen. This is giving the school a lot of publicity. It would be a shame if the boys had a negative experience here.”
I stare blankly at him. His eyes bleed with anger.
“There have been some rumors pertaining to you and these gentlemen.”
“What? Me? No.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Cinnamon!” he screams, throwing his computer across the room and standing up. He points his finger at me, “Have you ever heard of Vietnam?” he screams.
“Yeah!” I yell back.
“I have done a lot to get this school in order! And I am not going to have a filthy scumbag like you come in here and screw everything up!” By this time he reached over his desk and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and lifted my two feet off the ground. All with one hand. His arm muscles bulged, causing his sleeves to start to tear.
“Do you understand!” he screams in a deep voice.
“Yes!” I choke out.
He pulls his face close to mine so our eyes were inches apart, “Good. Now get out of my sight, you peice of crap!” He then throws me down.
I quickly get up and open the door, but that’s when I realize that I didn’t understand what it was that I did exactly.
I turn back to him and saw that he had a notebook open and was writing something down.
“So what is it that I’m not supposed to do, exactly?”
“God damnit!” he screams and flips his desk.
I quickly go out the door and close it, hearing the sound of smashing behind it.
I turned to the Guidance Office secretary, who looks to a student that was sitting in the chair next to Mr. Anderson’s door.
“You’re next, kid.” the secretary says.
The kid gulps as the sound of a large object, probably a chair, hits the door.
I walk out of the attendance office and try to find Sam. I have to take him to the party tonight.