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Of course he had seen angry, trouble making adolescents before, but never had he met the person before the anger. Perhaps the reason stood behind his actually knowing how this boy came to be where he now was. Why he felt so attached to the boy he did not know. Through all his thirty-five years working with the public educational system he had seen several cases like James’ but, for some reason, this seventeen year old senior struck him harder than others. Collins stood a few moments staring down at the student but finally settled down behind the desk. James sat on one of the two chairs across the desk, which was set in front of the window. On the left wall stood a wooden book shelf alongside a file cabinet and from the right wall hung several certificates. The office was a small room with a wide window at the back facing the inner grounds of the school.
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James frowned and pursed his lips defiantly but made no other complaints to accompany the Principal. “I wasn’t the only one in the fight!” protested James. Rolland! In my office! Now!” shouted Collins. Only three people stood in the parking lot now: Brad Peterson, James Rolland and Principal Andrew Collins. “What the hell’s going on here?!” The outraged demand stood in the air for less than a second. James took the opportunity to hit his challenger straight in the nose, making him bleed and fall down to the floor. The jock held the first punch with his hand but didn’t notice James’ other fist coming from the right. He rushed towards Brad as fast as he could, launching with his left. The encouraging shout for his opponent roused James’ the fury even more. “Kill him Peterson!” One of the jock’s accomplices called. Why didn’t he care then? Why had he recklessly punched the guy for no apparent reason? Had he had a reason? The encounter had only started minutes ago but James could not recall the events before it. Brad was probably ten times stronger than he, too. He knew Brad weighed and measured in height more than he did. Luckily, James managed to duck this time. How was it that he got into this mess again?īrad Peterson, the tall, bulky, red head jock in front of him, aimed another blow. His nose was bleeding and his head was throbbing loudly from the blows he had already received.
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He was certain, however, that the shouts were not the worst part of his present situation. “Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” As much as James wanted to ignore the chants of the teenagers surrounding him, he could not.