Bowling for HeartsChapter 63
- 4 years ago
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The school day started with announcements in our Home Room. Often there weren’t any, but today there was one.
“You may have heard about an ambulance attending the school yesterday afternoon,” said Mrs Gibbons, our Home Room Teacher. “Unfortunately one of our students, Jay Calhoun, had an accident, tripping and hitting his head on a concrete walkway. I’m sure we all wish him well for a speedy recovery. His Home Room Teacher, Mr Bagnall, will have a ‘Get Well Soon’ card available for signing at break times.”
I couldn’t put a face to the name Jay Calhoun, but I vaguely remembered him as one of the hillbillies. If Mrs Gibbons hadn’t said it was an accident, I might have suspected that Jaymon Solassie had happened to him.
“Obviously we’re concerned about such an accident occurring on the premises,” continued Mrs Gibbons. “If anyone saw the accident or knows anything about it, please could they see Vice Principal Hinterberry.”
The morning was relatively mundane. The whispers were targeted at Jay Calhoun rather than me, which was quite a relief.
At lunchtime I sat at my new table and was soon joined by Melinda and Cheryl. I made sure to greet them very loudly when they made to ignore me again.
“All set for this evening?” I asked Melinda.
Surprise flashed across her face for an instant before she managed to suppress it. “Yes, sure.”
“What’s happening this evening?” asked Cheryl, with a strange expression on her face.
“Melinda and I grew up together. We’re trying to reconnect so we’re going to hang out together this evening,” I explained.
“Like a date?” asked Cheryl, her eyes narrowing.
“Definitely not,” asserted Melinda. “As friends. Kevin’s gay so nothing’s going to happen between us.”
Cheryl looked very unhappy about something, but fortunately Maria arrived to join us and changed the topic of conversation.
“Did you hear about Jay Calhoun?” she asked.
“He tripped and hit his head on the walkway,” I said, the hint of boredom in my voice intended to convey that we’d already been told about it.
“Apparently he hit his head several times and he could be off school for quite a while,” said Maria.
Jaymon Solassie! He must have found out that Jay Calhoun was responsible for vandalising my locker. Half of me wanted to report my suspicions to someone, but the other half empathised with Eugenie’s devastation at having her artwork ruined and felt that perhaps he deserved it. All I knew for certain that it was too complex an issue for me to resolve instantly, if at all.
The afternoon was equally as uneventful as the morning until about halfway through.
“Theresa Randell to the Vice Principal’s office. Theresa Randell to the Vice Principal’s office,” was announced over the school’s paging system.
Terri? What could she have done? She was a Goody Two-Shoes at school, so being summoned to the Vice Principal’s office was totally unprecedented for her.
Then, about fifteen minutes later, there came a second page, “Kevin Randell to the Vice Principal’s office. Kevin Randell to the Vice Principal’s office.”
The teacher anticipated my request and gestured for me to go. I felt all eyes on me as I stood up, collected my books and left the room.
When I got the the Vice Principal’s office, I knocked and entered. Vice Principal Hinterberry was sitting there with my sister and a man I didn’t recognise, heavy set and wearing a suit.
“Mr Randell,” said Vice Principal Hinterberry, “this is Dr Langridge from the City Mental Health Hospital. He’s the psychiatrist treating a friend of your sister, Daisy Wilkins.”
That meant he’d driven some fifty odd miles from the city to visit our school, and would have a similar length journey back again. That meant his reason had to be important.
Dr Langridge stood up and and we started shaking hands.
“It’s refreshing to meet someone your age so open about their sexuality,” said Dr Langridge. “I imagine it’s led to a few problems with your peers.”
I didn’t release Dr Langridge’s hand but I stopped shaking. I wanted to challenge him about how he reached his judgement of my sexuality but my courage failed.
Dr Langridge released my hand.
“How is Daisy?” I asked.
“I’m afraid patient confidentiality means I can’t discuss her situation with anyone but her immediate family,” said Dr Langridge. “I understand you made a video of her that could be of assistance. Your sister says she had a copy but deleted it.”
Terri looked away guiltily but I noticed that, out of sight of the other two, she had crossed her fingers. She was lying about deleting the video because she wanted me to take responsibility for any decisions about it.”
“Yes, I still have the video...” I admitted, pausing to think. “However the victim here is Maria D’Angelou and I’m not going to show it to you without her permission.”
Dr Langridge looked as though he was about to object, then he noticed Terri nodding her head enthusiastically in agreement.
Dr Langridge sighed. “Can we summon Miss D’Angelou, please?” he asked Vice Principal Hinterberry.
Vice Principal Hinterberry paged Maria D’Angelou. There was an awkward silence for the several minutes it took for her to arrive.
I jumped in before anyone else could speak because I wanted to impose my view. “Maria, this is Dr Langridge. He’s a psychiatrist treating Daisy Wilkins and he’d like to see the video. I pointed out that you’re the victim so I needed your approval first.”
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Copyright 2003 by Madeline Bell. No part of this work may be distributed as an original work by another person or group. Permission is given to redistribute this by electronic means, as long as the entirety of the work is distributed, and credit is given to the original author, me. Any resemblance between the writings in this work, and any actual persons or places, living or dead, are purely coincidental, except when used for satirical purposes. All rights...
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“Miranda, please don’t spend any money on me. I don’t need a gift.” Tom argued with me. “But Tom, I want to make your birthday extra special. This is the first time you’ve had a birthday since we started dating.” “Miranda, I’m serious. Don’t waste any money on me. My dream birthday is just having over three or four friends, watching the Heat play basketball, playing poker, and drinking beer.” “That’s it?” I...
Monroe's cock boned hard as he writhed on the silk sheets, bound and helpless as the two young vixens worked themselves to a heady arousal, with alternating strokes of the cane across his bare cheeks. Anna watched with triumphant satisfaction, a finger working under the soft hood of her clitoris, slipping it over the erect nub as she listened to the song of the canes, and seeing her victim raise his arse to meet the stokes, now captured by the realisation of his own submission, a submission...
--------- You help fuck a friend's wife and cum all in her cunt and you end up buying their motel. As Ned Kelly said "Such is Life". Hello I am Marcus Root. I own a small Motel in the Riverina and I spend a fair amount of my time in the bedroom. Well bedrooms to be precise. I have just bought a 20 room motel that I will be running with my wife Sharon. We have bought it from two friends of ours Bill and Sheryl. It is called Roots Motel because years ago it was owned by the Root family,...