He loomed over me. “Cody Forester? I am the Vice Principal, Mister Overhill. May I see you in my office for a moment?”
With a frown, I stepped into a room filled with photos and diplomas. Mr. Overhill closed the door. “Have a seat.”
As I looked for a chair, I wondered what was up. If he wanted to give me a standard welcome speech, he would have done it in the lobby.
He sat behind a desk and folded his hands. “Why are you here?”
I looked at him. I wanted to ask the same thing.
“You come from a rather prestigious school,” he said. “You got good grades. Until last year. Can you tell me why your grades dropped?”
I gulped. I knew very well why my grades had fallen. I’d missed school because of the fevers.
As if a light went on, I realized that my unexplained fevers had something to do with my becoming a werewolf. Maybe wolf-ism was like a virus warping my genetic code. My body tried and failed to fight it off. I wasn’t about to explain that to Mr. Overhill. I fudged for a suitable excuse.
He took my silence as an answer. “We don’t abide drug use here at the Bluffs. I can refer you to several county programs if you admit to a problem.”
“I don’t have a problem.”
“I see. Well, you obviously have some sort of problem. Moving from a private to a public school. Moving to Florida by yourself. So I ask again. Why are you here?”
I glared. I rarely talk back to an adult. It doesn’t get you anywhere. But it was all I could do to keep my words level. “I’m at this school because this is where my uncle lives. The reason I live with my uncle is private.”
His eyes narrowed. “We don’t like troublemakers at the Bluffs.”
I wondered if he’d been talking to Sheriff Brad. I stood. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He walked around his desk and opened the door. I stepped into the cool lobby.
“Get a haircut,” he murmured as I passed.
At that moment, I knew they’d have to tie me to a chair before I’d cut my hair.
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