“Great.” Zach groaned,”One of these days I’ll hit Ms.Nasty with a car, and pretend that she hit me with 100 miles per hour. And if anyone doubts it, I’ll say they are discriminating against the running abilities of old hags.”
Gentry, who sat on the armchair at the opposite end of the room, cast him a bored look at him and went back to turning over the pen in his hands.
“Stop looking at the pen like that.” Zach snapped at him,”You’re the reason I’m in this mess, you fucking moron. I should hit you with a car. I’d do it twice just to make sure you were really dead.”
That said, he fell into silence. He realized now that he was powerless in this dizzying system of rules, regulations, and favorites. The school their monopoly, their bureaucracy, and their ways of getting their way.
Gentry stood up and took Zach’s hand, intertwining his pale fingers with Zach’s dark ones.
“I didn’t want it to go this way.” He said, softly.
He knew Zach well enough to understand that the silence meant more than any impassioned outcry. The way to read Zach was to listen for what he didn’t say, not to what he did.
“I don’t want your help.”
“You need it.”
Zach raised his head,“I can help myself!” there were traces of tears on his face, his eyes slightly reddened,”The only reason you care is because you pity me. But I don’t need you and I don’t need this system. I’m going back to Estonia!”
“Calm down.”
Gentry clicked Ms.Nasty’s pen,”Whenever Ms.Nasty writes something in pen, she will type it into the database by the end of the month. She will rely on this paper.” He motioned to the clipboard,”Which is Grade A school paper to avoid fake copies.”
He bent down to the cabinets and opened one, pulling out a crisp sheet,”I usually store extras here.”
“Great, now you’re stealing office supplies and falsifying documents just to fix a mistake YOU did. Very heroic of you.”
Gentry shot him a glare,”I said I was sorry. If you don’t like it, fuck off.” He scribbled a note on the paper,”A rule isn’t broken unless there’s proof.”
No comments:
Post a Comment