I catch a flap of dead skin on my lip and pull it until it stings and blood beads to the surface. My leg bounces faster as I think about what to say and how much to tell him.
“Why isn’t Jaxon in here with us?” I whisper.
“What?”
I take a deep breath and look at him head on. “Why isn’t my brother in here with me? Shouldn’t you be asking him that question?”
Principal Johnson raises his chin. “Because I want both sides of the story and to see if they match up.”
That’s stupid. The entire school saw what happened, so what’s the point?
Instead of talking back, I stay quiet and think about what to say without getting Jaxon into even more trouble. Eventually, I go with the truth, hoping it’ll be good enough. “Mickey picked on me, and I think Jaxon saw it, so he hit him.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Just hit him? He didn’t punch him?”
“Well...” I curl my fingers into my dress on my lap. “Yeah, he did, but he was defending me. I’m being bullied here.”
“Speak up, child. I can’t hear a lick of what you’re saying when you mumble like that.”
My cheeks burn with a blush, and I repeat what I said, louder this time.
Principal Johnson leans back in his chair, the hinges squeaking under his weight. He heaves a sigh and adjusts his tie around his throat. “It’s still not a good enough reason to hit somebody.”
I jump at the knock on the closed door. The principal’s attention turns past my shoulder as an older woman pops her head through the small crack as she opens the door.
“Are you ready to see Jaxon?” she asks.
Principal Johnson shakes his head, then huffs when Jaxon slips past the woman and sits beside me. He rocks his chair closer to me until our arms are a hair from touching. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in the seat, glaring at the older man across from us. I silently beg him to look at me, but he keeps his narrowed eyes on Principal Johnson, as if he’s a threat.
“Thanks, Barbara,” Principal Johnson grumbles, and flicks two fingers for the older woman to shut the door. When the door closes behind her and her footsteps fade, he turns to us with a scowl. “Your sister told me what happened, but hitting isn’t okay.” He leans his elbows on his desk, pinning Jaxon with a glare. “We’ve already called your parents, and your mom is on her way to pick the both of you up. We take violence and threats of ending someone’s life seriously here.”
“He didn’t mean it,” I say in a rush.
Principal Johnson turns to me. “Speak up.”
I open my mouth to repeat what I said, but Jaxon speaks up for me. “She said I didn’t mean it.” He drops his arms and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His lips curl back in a snarl. “You should get your ears cleaned out if you can’t hear her. Or maybe you should start listening better.”
The older man’s face scrunches up, and a muscle tics in the corner of his jaw. “I can hear just fine, Mr. Evergreen.” He turns to me, and my spine straightens. “You say you’re being bullied, but I have heard nothing about anyone picking onyou. Maybe these boys who are being ‘mean’ are just being boys. It’s because they like you.”
Jaxon shoots out of his seat and slams his fists on the principal’s desk, baring his teeth. The older man jerks back, his eyes widening.
“That’s a bullshit excuse if I’ve ever heard one.” Jaxon leans in, intimidating the principal, who looks like he’s about to wet himself. “Why don’t I bully you and we’ll see if you’ll say the same thing? I just like you,right? That’s why I’m hurting you, because Ilikeyou,right?”
I shift in my seat and move to stand up to save the principal from my brother, but shock freezes me in place. For the second time today, my mind spins over a thirteen-year-old boy yelling at adults who look like they’ve just seen a ghost.
The principal’s shock disappears, and he sobers. He stands from his rolling chair and leans on his desk, meeting Jaxon’s glare head on. “That is very different, Mr. Evergreen, and you know that. Now. Sit. Down.”
“Different?” Jaxon scoffs. “Because you’re a man and not a girl?”
“Sit. Down,” Principal Johnson says through clenched teeth.
Jaxon looks ready to climb over the desk and beat up the older man. I nervously stand and creep to Jaxon’s side, my fingers outstretched toward his back. I freeze when Jaxon slaps the table again.
“Jaxon,” I whisper.
“No,” Jaxon snaps at the principal. “You need to understand the difference between like and dislike. Those shitheads out there have been making Dahlia’s life a living hell.”
“Language!” Principal Johnson yells.
