copyright 2012 C.M. Knox. all rights reserved.
Hauled in front of the Headmaster, again.
Justin sat on the benches in the familiar hallway, the hard wood as ageless and permanent as the Academy even as Justin himself had grown and outgrown the hallowed institution. There was a time, in the distant past, when a trip here would have filled him with fear and awe, when the big cherrywood door of the Headmaster's office was an imposing threat of punishment.
Not anymore. The pilgrimage to Father Burke's office had become routine, climbing up from monthly to weekly. Ever since his 18th birthday party, when he'd hidden caches of silly string and cherry bombs all over the Academy grounds and goaded the younger students into all-out vandal warfare, he seemed to spend more time on these hard wooden benches than in the equally-uncomfortable half-desks that St. Kilda's Academy for College Preparations seemed to consider appropriate furniture for growing minds.
Father Burke didn't bother with pomp. When he decided Justin had been stewing in the hallway long enough, the priest just opened the door, shook his head, and waved the youth into the office.