MR. DAVIS'S POV:

"Ryan," I sighed, folding my arms across my chest so I can glance at my watch. "is everything okay at home? You don't seem to use the phones that often."

I had intended to release him today, but he still hasn't given me all the information I need. He was relieved when he went off to school this morning, I was hoping that it would make him crave release even more. But, sadly, that theory is diminishing by the minute.

"Everything is fine." He responded spitefully.

Assuming the seat across the table, I tried to shift my demeanor into something more approachable so he would be less resistant.

"I can't help you if...."

Rolling his eyes, he huffed. "'If I don't tell you what's wrong.'"

I paused, waiting for him to snap out of the condescending mindset that clouded his judgment. "If I don't understand you." I clarified.

He looked surprised, not sure whether to believe that those words were my original intention or if I were just playing to the dialogue, something we administrators often do.

"I don't understand you Ryan, and I mean that sincerely. I don't believe you're just an unruly kid for no reason."

He directed his eyes to the ground, a darkness lingering behind them as if he were holding back.

"Why do you act out so much?"

Starteld, he opened his mouth but could not make out any words. He looked lost and helpless in this moment; his sustained conduct that exposed his absent-mindedness. Looking as if he had never actually thought of his actions, almost as if he did everything on a whim.

"Everything at home is fine," Speaking slowly, he wiped his eyes. "honestly. My mom and dad are great with my sister while I'm here. And I don't need anyone..."

"Maybe not, but it's good to have people." I assured him. "Believe me, I know from experience. Why do you think your family is against you?"

He leaned back, allowing a lowly smirk to escape his lips. "They're not, I know they're not."

"Then why act out?"

"Um." He hesitated, naturally.

"Ryan, I promise you that anything you say will not go outside of this room." I tried to sound as sincere as I could, making sure to speak slowly to instill that. "There is nothing I would rather see than you go home and reunite with your family. I honestly believe you are capable of change, you just need to let me in so I can help you."

Sighing, he reached down and began picking at his thumbnails. "I was bullied a lot, and I still am, but once I started pranking and fighting...no one messed with me." Shrugging, he tried to put on a believable facade.

Nodding, "Let me ask you something: the Ryan you were a couple of years ago, would he like who you are now?"

Shaking his head, he responded with a low whisper. "No, no probably not."

"You're acting as if there is no such thing as bad attention." I tried to not sound condescending. "As long as you're getting noticed, when what does it matter if it's for the right or wrong reason?"

His smile disappeared. "That's right...And my family? Well, instead of trying to help me themselves, they just passed the buck on to someone else. Like they always do." He mumbled the end of that sentence.

"Maybe they thought you needed more help than they could give you."

He scoffed before I even finished. "Right."

"Have you ever been as open to them as you were just now?"

Hesitating, he shook his head. "No sir."

"As you can see," I motioned to the room where we sat. "bad attention is almost never worth it. The 'friends' you make through this kind of behavior is not the kind of friends you want in your life."

"Yes sir." He responded quickly.

I could tell he was starting to drift from this topic of conversation, so I think that was enough for today. Hopefully he'll open up to me again in the near future.

"Unfortunately," I reverted back to the basis of my lecture. "as it is my job here, I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you don't bring in contraband again. Especially not these." Holding up a smoke bomb to him, I twirled it in my hand. "Now I would rather you submit to good behavior than monitoring your every move, which will be a disaster for us both."

His eyes widened and he glanced to his left, knowing full well that a task such as that would not be preferable to either of us.

"T-the smokebombs are...they're stuffed into a ziplock bag hidden inside of the care packages

"Where in the care packages?" I lowered my hand to his eye-level, motioning for him to look at me.

"Inside the Pringles container."

Dismissing what I assume is an excuse, "We'd notice if the Pringles came open."

"All you need is to re-glue the paper cover after you remove it." He shrugged.

I'll admit I was shocked, and a little impressed. "You are two bad decisions away from a life of crime, aren't you?"

"I don't know much about crime."

"Make that one bad decision."

He smirked, "I'm sorry."

___________________________________________________

NAOMI'S POV:

I paced in my room; walking from wall to wall frantically as I tried to steady my nerves. The entire world seemed to have slowed down since yesterday, everything around me was constantly moving at a snail's pace. Mr. Quimby pulled me aside after class yesterday and told me he needed a signature on my test because...I got a C+ in geometry.

"Miss. Taylor, I'm going to need a parent or guardian to sign this." Mr. Quimby handed me my Geometry test back.

"S-sign?" I took it gently from his hands, almost wishing I had immediately gone blind.

Teachers only ask for a signature on two things: permission slips and subpar grades. I can't remember any scheduled field trips, though I was hoping for the best for my sake.

"I expect better from you Miss. Taylor. You've been doing well so far this year, but this test clearly does not reflect the grades of someone who studied and worked harm, someone who came prepared." He was laying it on thick.

"Y-you need my guardian to sign this?" I asked trembling.

"Yes, bring it back signed tomorrow. I'm sure your guardian will be displeased with you but maybe that will get you to work harder." He snidely added.

Mr. Davis has been so occupied with Ryan, he's probably still in there questioning him. Fortunately for me, the last few days have been chaotic; Mr. Davis was trying to siphon information out of a stubborn student and Mr. Patry was keeping everyone else in line as Mr. Davis proceeded with the internal investigation.

But then I did something even worse: I let my nerves overcome my judgment and today I turned in the paper with Mr. Davis's signature...except I never told him.

Before you say it, I know: I am the biggest idiot in the world. I just got so frantic. It brought up a pain that I thought was long extinguished, especially after I found out my parents were never coming back.

"Dad, dad, come look at this." I entered the kitchen gleefully, ready to finally hear my dad tell me that I did a good job.

"What's that?" He asked, taking the paper from my hand.

"I brought my grade up in math class." I pointed to the large, blue ink that so plainly identified my grade.

"Hmph." He shrugged and handed it back to me. "Why didn't you get an 'A'?"

"Well I...I worked really hard."

"Apparently not hard enough."

I felt a strange, sharp tingle that spread throughout my body. It was as if all the color from my skin had been drained by this haunting virus coursing through my blood. My eyes immediately felt dry and tired and there was a shattering in my chest.

"If you really want to be proud of yourself, bring that grade up to an 'A'. Until then, you shouldn't be showing something like this off. It just makes you look mediocre." He returned his attention to the stack of papers he had laying in front of him.

"Right, you're right dad..." I slowly removed myself from his study, eager to get back to my room where I could cry without anyone noticing.

A lot has happened lately, most of which were entirely self-inflicted and I feel like my relationship with Mr. Davis is hanging by a thread as it is. I just didn't have the heart to tell him that I was doing so poorly in geometry. I couldn't stand to get another disappointing scowl, that heart-breaking look on his face whenever I screw up...it immediately sends tears to my eyes.

*Knock, knock*

Oh no, is that him? Did he find out what I did?

"W-who is it?" I asked shakily.

"Jasper. Do you want to head to the nook by the bay window? I have cards." Jasper offered, hoping that I would come out.

I've inadvertently, through carelessness or inattention, shut myself in here for the last day and a half, which probably raised a lot of suspicion.

"That sounds great," I tried to recoup. "Give me one second."

________________________________________

MR. DAVIS'S POV:

"Alright Ryan, get your things. You can return to the dormitories."

"Thank you sir." He said quickly, dying his eyes

I watched as he scurried along, grabbing his unpacked bag from the secluded room he was placed in and leaving quickly without another word. I honestly think I made some progress with him, which was more than you can hope for when using a disciplinary method such as this. Hopefully Jim won't resist amending the policy as to the use of confinement.

*Ring, ring, ring*

"Hello?"

"Good afternoon, is this Mr. Howard Davis? Naomi Taylor's guardian?" A deep voice asked.

"Yes sir, this is him."

"Mr. Davis, I am calling in regard to Miss. Taylor's recent grade, the geometry exam you signed?"

I swallowed noticeably loud, loud enough for him to hear it at least. All of my brain cells began working diligently to try to remember a test that Naomi asked me to sign, simply because I didn't want to accept that she forged my signature.

"I'm sorry, when was the date of this test?"

"It was last week, I gave it back to Miss. Taylor yesterday and she returned it signed today."

Dammit Naomi. I moved my phone away from my mouth so I could let out a large exhale without him noticing.

"Right, that exam. I'm sorry, I am at work and my mind is a little scattered." I lied for her. "I remember it now, what exactly is the purpose of your call again?"

As much as my nerves were provoked at this point, I wasn't going to expose her to her teacher and cause her embarrassment or any bias that may come from him. I'll handle everything on my own.

"Well sir, if Naomi receives another grade below a 'B,' it could jeopardize her cumulative grade to the point of where she will need to be transferred into a regular geometry class."

Nodding, "Thank you for the heads up sir, I assure you I am not taking this lightly. I will work more with Naomi to get her grade up and will personally handle this situation entirely, I promise you that."

"Thank you for your assurance. Have a good night Mr. Davis."

"You as well sir." I hung up before another word could be said.

Naomi Taylor, you are the bane of my existence. Welp, I guess it's time to go give my irresponsible child another lesson.