by Paul Jackson
There was nothing remarkable about the first couple of hours of that unbelievable school day one year ago. It began like all days, with registration in my homeroom, and then a double math period with a 10th grade class. They were all good students from nice homes who got down and worked hard at their assignments. One or two became a little restless, I recall, and that was understandable, for revision for forthcoming examination papers had been relentless as always at that time of year. It was early May and there was no question it was going to be a hot one out there, so I could excuse a few of them for wanting to be out in the sun rather than in class with me.
I had taught at Edison High for six years and had submitted an application for the post of AP, which would fall vacant the next semester. Edison High was a large high school within the Blanchford district of Oklahoma, the place where I was born forty-five years ago, raised, and eventually married with kids of my own.
I had to admit the sun sure looked tempting, and I was looking forward to an hour without a class after this particular one; I was due to assess some GPAs at my own leisurely pace - or so I thought. That was until the VP's admin assistant came into the class and asked me to go along to the VP's office directly after this math class. I couldn't help emit a sigh of dissatisfaction. I liked VP Andy Brooks, but on a hot one he could sure be demanding. He expected high standards from his faculty and I was hoping this was not some unexpected appraisal of my work performance. Or worse still, perhaps I had been unsuccessful in my job application. After all, I would be the assistant AP to Andy Brooks.
"Any ideas what this is about, Betty?" I asked lamely. "You see, I got a real busy schedule right after this class," I lied. She looked at her notes.
"It's a disciplinary referral."
Blanchford ISD had passed a new disciplinary policy. All disciplinary referrals, not just the punishments that resulted from them, had to be witnessed by another faculty member. I gave an affirmative nod to Betty and she turned and left the class.
So like I said, it had been just an ordinary morning at high school - until the disciplinary referral, on which this story is based, and the extraordinary thing that took place later that day, and indeed, the following one. I doubt if I'll ever forget it.
After class, I walked along the hallway, which by now was awash with students in recess. Their presence was accompanied by the usual pulsating buzz created by vast numbers of 11th and 12th grade students having a short break from study time. I managed to squeeze my way through and make for the large, airy administration block. This too, was busy with students at the reception desk, making enquiries about various academic and administrative matters, while others stood by water coolers and cold drink vending machines. A few students sat on benches in waiting areas outside the offices belonging to the four administrators on campus. But it was one student who caught my eye in particular. Not for merely being in the reception area, nothing out of the ordinary about that, but for looking so delightfully salient at that very moment. It was eighteen-year-old Mia Hardy, a 12th grade student, and one of the most revered females on campus, who caused my temperature to rise and momentarily forget my own reasons for being there. She stood by a water cooler, sipping from a polystyrene cup, keeping herself to herself, which was about normal for her.
It was difficult to know what was going on in that pretty head of hers. If her studies were affecting her inner emotions you'd never know it, as opposed to most students her age who would let their emotions go. There were students out in that reception area that day who looked real uptight about their studies. But no, I thought, not possible with Mia. Nothing fazed her and the word 'pressure' was simply not in her dictionary. She had a reputation for being a cool customer, along with being annoyingly aloof. But like I say, it was a difficult time for all these students, and I do know Mia's GPA had dipped a little around January time. 'Captivating' would be the one word I'd use to describe her on this day, a beauty without question, and she could not have looked more alluring, dressed in a tight fitting white top with her mounds of lush black hair cascading down her back and a daringly short pink mini skirt that must have exceeded dress code regulation. This in turn showed off her lovely long legs to perfection. I could have stayed and admired Mia forever, but time was pressing and I quickly pulled myself together and made my way towards VP Brook's office, which was situated in the far corner of the administration reception area. The bench outside his door was empty which surprised me with this being a disciplinary referral.
The 'engaged' sign was off, so I knocked and went in. Vice-Principal Brooks was seated at his desk, studying a student file. I heard him cuss to himself, something like, "Darn amendment confirmation has still not arrived from the school board." Thinking aloud was something Andy Brooks did a lot. He glanced up from his square-framed gold rimmed glasses.
"Oh, come on in, Danny, I need you to take care of witnessing a referral for me." He paused, and then apologised for cussing out. He took off his specs. "These students today!" he exhaled. "Some of 'em just can't keep their feet on the ground."
The stocky fifty-year-old VP was passionate about maintaining high standards at Edison High, especially with dress code. Indeed, he was always immaculately turned out himself, and thus expected students to dress smartly, too. Today he wore his usual waistcoat under his jacket, in buff, with matching pants, a white shirt, and expensive cufflinks that matched the gold colour of his specs.
"Would you show her in," he said in a tone of voice that suggested he was far from happy. I was immediately taken aback. I had naturally been expecting a guy to be called for referral, never for one moment thinking it was a female student. Not too many females at Edison got disciplinary referrals.
"Sure," I replied, "who is it?"
"Oh, it's Mia Hardy from 12th grade," he said dispassionately, making some notes.
Of course, I nearly fell to the floor. "Mia Hardy?!" I said, hardly in control of my tone of voice as I hit a high soprano note.
"Yeah," he said, "show her right in."
I was amazed. She was the last student on campus who I would have imagined getting herself a disciplinary referral. And I do mean 'the last'. I knew Mia well and her parents just a little, and they weren't the kind of folk to let their kids drift too far off the rails, although they did spoil and pamper their three girls kind of bad. They were wealthy, very wealthy in fact, owning the most expensive piece of real estate in the boulevard, not to mention the class-act boat in the nearby harbour. With my anticipation slowly building, I walked to the door, opened it and sure enough Mia was seated on the bench outside. Oh, those legs in that pink mini skirt! It was electrifying, seeing her sitting there with them tantalisingly crossed. Yet, paradoxically, she looked so sedate, bordering on demure, but so, so innocuously sexy, too. She looked up at me with her incredible brown eyes. I think she was as surprised to see me as I was her. I asked her to step inside and, gathering up her school bag, she followed me through the door. Once inside, VP Brooks indicated that she should take the seat positioned in front of his large mahogany desk. The VP got himself comfortable, making the habitual comb of his thick greased-back fair-to-greying hair with one hand and then rubbing his square jaw with his other. Then off came the specs.
"Miss Hardy," he began, "you have been called here for your second disciplinary referral in a week. I have called Mr Masters to act as our witness under the mandatory regulations laid down by Blanchford ISD."
As the VP spoke, I was taking up my position in the chair next to Mia, and gave her a brief sideways look as she fumbled with her bag, placing it on the floor beside her. The VP's baritone voice boomed. My own thoughts began to orbit. A second disciplinary referral in a week?! WOW! This was serious! She gave a nod to indicate that she understood why I was present and folded her arms. Then she crossed those sumptuous legs again to show a little more creamy thigh. It was all too much. The short mini-skirt inched its way back somewhat to leave me spellbound and hardly aware of what was being said. That is until I heard the VP call my name.
"Mr Masters, last Wednesday, April 28, Miss Hardy was referred to me for skipping school the previous afternoon. She had decided to cut classes and went along to a ballet matinee, put on by the company of which she is a performing member, despite being expressively forbidden to go along. For this she was awarded a one-hour detention in D-Hall. She failed to attend that D-Hall detention. Today, she has been called here to explain her behaviour."
I was not too surprised, not that I mean Mia was the kind of student always in trouble. As I have already pointed out, that was hardly the case. More that she was a somewhat headstrong girl and if she wanted something she'd go out there and get it, no matter what the consequences. Edison High had a proud history of being associated with local performing arts and had helped to develop many ballet students down the years. Mia was no exception and was a modern ballet dancer of the highest level. In addition, Mia's operatic prowess was renowned throughout the district. She possessed a beautiful voice and thus she was in great demand by many a performing company, with agents and recording labels anxious to sign up the precocious young eighteen-year-old.
I think we all knew that one day she would reach the highest echelons. Seeing her gracefully perform her ballet routines, of course, was a joy to watch, not to mention the scanty costumes, black tights and sexy leotards she would perform in. Many an over eager male student, trying to watch her routines from some vantage point, would be taken away and referred to the office, if a reasonable excuse was not offered to explain his presence. Why, it was lucky I had not gotten caught a whole bunch of times myself, although I always had a good excuse to be watching. I taught classical music as well as math, and Mia was a student in one of my music classes.
The VP replaced his specs and looked squarely on at Mia. "Miss Hardy, I would like an explanation for the reason why you missed detention. Go right ahead, if you will," he gestured. I looked at Mia, hardly able to wait for her answer. I saw her shift uncomfortably in the chair. Again, this caused her skirt to ride up a little and more firm white thigh came into view. It seemed for once the studious rich girl from Dexter Boulevard, the daughter of a luxury yacht builder, was lost for words. I liked Mia a great deal, despite her detachment, her narcissism and her air of superiority. The VP pressed her again for an explanation, drawing a response this time.
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