*Knock* *Knock*
"Come in."
That was the voice Liz's gaze had left stuck in the throat it had been coming out from yesterday at the police station. I push the door open, and greet its owner.
"Principal. You called for me?"
"Yes, student Lockdream. Indeed, I called for you. Come, have a seat."
Well, his welcoming smile is enough to prove wrong the gazes filled with schadenfreude I received when leaving the classroom.
I take a seat before the desk. I don't know if the principal wants his smile to be charming, or at least disarming, but when combined with his balding, hair-deprived head, I don't know if he just knows nothing about the very different end result of his gesture or if he is just that confident.
I put my bag on my lap. It is a casual gesture, but somewhere, with a hint of protectiveness before another male member of the school staff.
The principal's eyes follow my gesture, but he makes no comment. He tries to soften his smile further. He stands up to serve me a cup of water. Warm water. Well, even if it had been cold to help me fight against the heat of summer that is still lingering, I would not have drank it.
I simply look at it, then at the somewhat awkward (or maybe embarrassed?) owner of the office. And my stare doesn't help him get into the grooves to push forward the subject he is trying to ease me into.
His smile cracks a little, and he jumps the gun before the awkwardness can take over his whole inner world.
"So, how was your day?"
I look at him almost questioningly. It was a question like any other to start a conversation, and I can see where he is coming from, but come on, does he think I have all day?
"Ahem… I want to make sure you didn't feel uncomfortable today after what you have been through yesterday. After all, the school and I failed you and the rest of the students by letting a teacher like Tyne do what he wanted here, so making sure things have returned the way they should be, and ensuring that some things do not happen again is our priority. That starts by making sure you have no sequela, physical or mental of what happened. So, how was your day?"
The principal's eyes are full of sincerity. Fortunately, he refrains from showing warmth. He is conscientious enough to know that that is something he can't show if he does want to traumatize and provoke a reflexive reaction from me.
Nevertheless, he hides his apprehension at the consequences of the fallout of the incident if I'm not carefully handled, unlike yesterday, and he hides it well.
I deeply look at him, but I don't bother trying to tease apart whether he is truly sincere or if he is just being a politician. I don't make him wait for long. I shake my head. His expression is funny. It struggles to hold on against a collapse, before it brightens up at my words.
"The day has not been bad, principal."
A grin splits his face in two, and he nods with satisfaction:
"That's good. That's good. Student Lockdream, take your time to find yourself a new rhythm, and if there is anything, you can come to me at any moment, or to any other teacher or staff member of the school. The school is for learning and for you youngsters to bloom into fine adults. Take your time, take your time… What happened this time is the school's fault. Allow me to apologize to you."
I shake my head.
"There is no need for that, principal. There are others deserving of those apologies more than I do. I will be satisfied if your promise for the same thing to never happen again remains unbroken."
"Don't worry. It is not only a promise, but also a commitment the school will hold dear. But speaking of others, do you have another copy of the library of photos and videos you copied yesterday?"
And there it is. I suppose the early part of the conversation is not totally irrelevant, but it is less important than the question casually added after the big words.
I look at the expression the old fox is carefully keeping casual, and lower my head. My phone is already in my hand, I have not put it in the bag given that classes are over. I go through my recorded audios, and do something I have forgotten to do before. I send a copy of the audio I'm looking for to the cloud server I have opened, before I play it.
I raise my head to the stunned principal who doesn't get what he is expecting.
The audio I played to Liz yesterday after leaving the police station, the audio I recorded outside of the door of the sports equipment room some early morning I'd rather forget.
The silence beyond the noise of the playing audio recording is not deafening, but it has a subtle heaviness. At least, that is what the principal is feeling.
Feelings, the easiest waves to catch from foreign minds. Maybe I should take to turning myself into a polyglot. Languages and feelings are quite deeply entwined.
The idea flits past my mind, before I stop thinking about anything irrelevant.
The audio, without the context it is happening in, is actually a good way to set an ambiguous atmosphere, to stoke the fire of desire, whether to masturbate or play with a companion. But with an all too clear idea on the context, it is only disgusting.
That is what the principal is feeling as he clenches his hand over his pen.
At least… he is more than just a politician. He has some conscience as an educator who has failed.
"This is what confirmed what I suspected when I investigated Tyne's tutoring class. I recorded this not long before what happened on the rooftop yesterday. That is what I would have broadcasted through the school if remote access to the system had not been possible."
I don't say more. I really don't need to say more. The principal's face loses all colors and turns pale.