Sᴇᴘᴛᴇᴍʙᴇʀ 23. 2024.
Alessia missed first period coming to school late this morning, because of a mandatory meeting Petro called for an hour, although he knows she has school. All he did too was lecture her about her mishaps lately and it took a lot in her, to not wield the mixed martial arts he has taught her against him. For everything he's done to her, listed, she'd hit him at a vital point, but she told herself 'not yet', bit her tongue, crossed her legs and blocked him out completely.
Afterwards, she rushed to school, pulling into a random parking space in the parking lot. And soon, she finds herself face to face with her locker. It's keyed and marked with ink, displaying insulting words such as the typical 'whore, slut, etc,' that she can care less about. That was fast... She wonders how the news got out.
Just as she enters the code and opens her locker, an announcement sounds throughout the whole building, "Alessia Moskal, Vincent Guiseppe. Please report to the Dean's office now. I repeat; Alessia Moskal and Vincent Guiseppe, please come to the Dean's office immediately." Well then... Forget going to second period.
"Here we go." She huffs, closing her locker and beginning down the hall towards the Administration Office, where the Principal's, Vice Principal's and Dean of Discipline's Office should be located.
At the tinted, glass door, she presses the buzzer on the wall and waits for the front desk lady to buzz her in. She pokes her head inside once she's able to and asks, to make sure, "Is this where the Dean's office is?"
"Yes it is." Comes the voice that was groaning in her ears two nights ago, directly behind her.
Alessia pushes further into the room, holding the door for Vincent, who saunters in like the overly confident boy he is. He's wearing a fitying plain, white tee, maroon joggers low on his hips and a pair of white Balenciaga shoes.
"I wasn't asking you, but 'kay. Morning." She greets him with nonchalance.
He stares down at her with his hands in his pockets, assessing her. However, he's never one to understand body language, neither anything that's not direct, and thus, he fails to see her. He has to ask, "Are you okay?" Because, he can't tell if she's affected by what has happened or not.
They both start toward the Dean's office after the lady at the front desk points her in the direction. It's opposite the Principal's Office. She glances behind her with a cocked eyebrow to reply to his uncanny question, "Why wouldn't I be?"
Does she know what's going on? He frowns, but shrugs as they come upon their destination, and she pushes into the Office without knocking. He follows silently.
Mr. O'Brien, a bald, miserably divorced Irishman, puts down his pen in the crease of his notebook and adjusts his black, round-framed glasses to look at them. As soon as the door closes behind them and they get settled in the two chairs before the desk, Vincent's laid back attitude kicks in, while Alessia waits quietly.
"Mr. Dean, howdy-do?! You called?" He smiles sheepishly at the man.
"I have a question." Mr. O'Brien begins big-brained, "I know you kids are privileged. You believe you can get away with anything, but no, not under my watch." Epic. "I am the Dean of Discipline. I am here to keep you spoilt, rich kids in check." I am the KNIGHT— "What in the world were you two thinking going to a club?"
Alessia leans forward in her chair, glaring, "How'd you know that?"
"There's a video leakage of us." Vincent tells her quickly, now knowing that she had no idea.
She turns to him with a horrified look on her face and his breath hitches, bewildered by the new emotion. "Everything?" She mouths, to which he shakes his head, earning a sigh of relief.
Feeling accomplished, he guides his attention back to the man again, who seems to be hunched forward and watching them keenly to get a jist of what they were saying. "We were just chilling." The boys states, narrowing his eyes at Mr. O'Brien who falls back in his seat.
"That's hard to believe."
So what? "You can find the rest on Pornhub." Vincent shoots him a wry smirk. He can't punish them for anything. He's being nosey.
"Mr. Guiseppe—!" Dean O'Brien gapes, readying himself to scold the arrogant kid, but Alessia is done calculating the situation and she stands with a rebuttal on the tip of her tongue.
"Sir, why are we here?" She inquires with her head leaning to one side. "There's no proof that what we were drinking is alcohol. There's no sign of drug use. We were at a club, but we didn't embarrass the school in any way, shape or form, because we don't where crests, or uniforms. You can hold nothing against us, so with that said, I'll be going. I don't have time to waste on your empty barrel foolishness." She snags her bag from the chair, shaking her head in disbelief that the Dean really called her up, for this? She has her mind set on going back to her locker to do what she went there to do the first time and leaves briskly.
The two males are left in shock, but Vincent collects himself before the Dean does, grabbing his own bag and rising from the seat.
He peers at the man with his eyebrows raised, backing out and referring to Alessia, "What she said." Then, he disappears as well, sucking in a deep breath and leaving the Dean of Discipline stunned.
The door closes with the bald man staring after Vincent's back. They're all so spoiled, I tell ya!