Part 21 (2/2)
”Cool. Now go.”
”Why can't I ever find you?” I asked.
”'Cuz I'm the dead guy, 'member?” he replied with a grin.
”Don't remind me.”
”Go, mami.” He kissed me one last time, and gave my b.u.t.t a little smack. ”Get out of here already. Go do your thing this week, with finals. I won't bug you.”
”But I want you to bug me.”
”You should probably focus on school.”
”Yeah, probably.”
”I'll see you soon. Get out of here.” He kissed me one last time, and then, hard as it was to go, I did what he commanded. I got out of there. I went home.
Valiantly though Yazzie tried, she was unable to keep me from ending up in the headmaster's office after all. Friday came around, and with it my last final exam and a meeting in said person's luxurious and well-appointed office, with its leather chairs and Persian rugs. My mother was there, as were Logan and his parents. My mother hardly noticed me, so busy was he kissing Logan's father's posterior. She'd read about him in the paper, she'd seen him at a board meeting, she thought he was 100 percent right about the President in his op-ed in the Sunday Journal, etc, etc.
Headmaster Green, a man of nearly seventy who had seen and dealt with a lot of problems in his educational career and seemed all that much more mellow and forgiving for it, was thankfully a more even-keeled person, practiced in the arts of diplomacy and patience. He explained that he was concerned for my safety, given the reckless disregard Logan had displayed for my privacy by posting personal information on a Web site whose contents were ”well known on campus and at this point much-discussed and perhaps even a polarizing issue among their fellow students.”
”Well, that's easy to solve, isn't it?” my mother asked. ”Maria, if you just stop cavorting with that shady gang member, putting yourself and everyone at Coronado Prep in danger, and come back to your senses, this could all go away.”
Headmaster Green looked at me with sympathy, but knew better than to openly challenge my mother.
”I like Demetrio,” I said. ”And he's not a gang member. Plus, I'm almost 18 years old. I don't think it's anyone's business in this room who I date.”
”Privacy is very important to us all,” said Headmaster Green. ”I think we can all agree to that.”
”You are mistaken. A minor child has no rights to privacy if criminal elements are involved,” hissed my mother.
”He's not a criminal. He's a good person. You are unbelievably shallow, mom.”
”Logan? Your site should be down by this evening, correct?” said Headmaster Green.
”It's for her own good,” said Logan. ”But if you want it down, I'll take it down.”
”I'm not getting back together with you,” I told him. ”You can't force me to, and you can't bully me into it.”
Headmaster Green sighed and laced his fingers together on top of his desk. ”Let the record show that I've asked both students here to remove all offending materials from the Internet immediately, or face possible expulsion from school,” he said.
My mother gasped and put he hand to her throat.
”Expulsion?” she asked, expressing the shock that eluded even Logan's parents, who seemed to have a more stoic - and sneaky - att.i.tude about this whole thing. ”If that were to happen, if would have to stay hush-hush, of course. I couldn't - I mean, we couldn't - possibly have my daughter's expulsion from Coronado Prep be made public, no. Impossible. I think there is some fundraising money that might not be available otherwise, for the new playing fields.”
”I understand what you're saying, Ms. Romero,” said Headmaster Green, scarcely able to conceal his contempt for her. ”But fundraising issues are of no concern to me in the disciplining of students.”
”Well, they should be.”
”So I've heard, more than once, and yet, Ms. Romero, they are not.”
”You'll regret that,” said my mother.
Headmaster Green ignored her, turning his attention to me now. ”And Maria, I'll ask that you remove the site you've put up in reaction to Logan's site.”
I didn't bother to deny Kelsey's was mine. She was a great friend who had protected me, and I would take the fall for her.
”Consider it done,” I said.
”I want all posts to social networking sites about this matter by either one of you deleted immediately as well. No photos, no blog posts, no comments, nothing. We have zero tolerance for cyber bullying at this school, and as I'm sure you can imagine, this sort of behavior by our students sullies the name of this venerated inst.i.tution.”
”We understand,” I said.
”You've made your points, Green,” said Logan's father, standing up pompously to leave, leading with his substantial potbelly. ”Anything else?”
”Yes.” Headmaster Green looked at me and Logan sternly. ”You are both suspended for one week upon resumption of cla.s.ses in January.”
Logan's parents shook hands with my mom, and my mother absurdly apologized to them - apologized. As my mother and I walked toward the parking lot, she informed me that I was to be grounded for three weeks.
I drove home alone, spilling my guts to Kelsey, who was preparing for an early morning flight to New York to spend the holiday with her family in Manhattan. I called Demetrio, but got voicemail. It made me laugh out loud to think ghosts had voicemail.
When I got home, I shared a Chinese takeout dinner with my mother in relative silence, trying not to read too much into the way her fork sc.r.a.ped across the plate, or how violently she stabbed her orange chicken pieces. I felt as though I were seeing her - really seeing her - for the first time, and I didn't like what I saw. My whole life, she'd been my hero. The woman I admired most in the world. But upon the topic of Demetrio - and by default, me making my own choices for myself - we simply could not agree.
Buddy sat faithfully at my feet, giving me strength through his quivering excitement - either that, or waiting for a sc.r.a.p of food to fall on the floor. I was never quite sure which with him.
”Well, we should hit the hay,” said my mother wearily as she cleared the table. ”We need to get an early start tomorrow to get up to the resort in Santa Fe before hitting the slopes.”
”I thought I was grounded.”
”You are, for things you do alone. But I already paid for this trip and its very expensive, and completely nonrefundable, thank you very much. I took time off from work and rearranged a lot of meetings for you. So you're going.”
”Fine.”
”I trust you'll pack your things before bed and be ready to leave by seven tomorrow.”
”What about Buddy?”
”I have a dog-sitting service arranged. Now, give me your cell phone. I've already had your computer removed from your room.”
”What? Why?”
”Give me your phone. It's part of your grounding. No phone, no Internet.”
”Can I at least tell Kelsey and my other friends I'm not going to have it, so they don't think I'm blowing them off if I don't answer them this week?”
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