Delinquent

“Avery, wake up!” Mr. Hartman, Lakeview High School’s easy-going Geometry teacher, tells a student sleeping on their desk.

Avery, the student in question, looks up at Mr. Hartman’s bearded face and green-and-white-checked collared shirt with sleep-blurred eyes.

“What?” they mumble. “I finished the assignment already–”

“Pass for you to see Principal Ludwig,” Mr. Hartman continues, his tone apologetic. “You should probably take your things with you. Only a few minutes left in the class period.”

Avery glances at the clock. There’s at least twenty minutes left in the class period, but there’s no point in arguing. Not even Mr. Hartman will listen to Avery. With a sigh, they get out of their seat and pick up their button-studded messenger bag, then slump out of the room. With their torn-up jeans, oversized knit hoodie, and slouchy knit hat, Avery looks like the sort of kid who would rather smoke weed in the bathrooms than attend class. In truth, weed isn’t really their thing; they’d just rather be at a rave or in a recording studio or working on restoring vintage furniture than sitting in some boring lecture about geometry or 1800s British literature or the War of 1812 or some other nonsense that won’t help them in the real world. But most of the teachers at Lakeview High don’t care what Avery thinks about their classes. The principals certainly don’t care, especially not Principal Ludwig, who has a reputation for being the biggest hard-ass in the history of Lakeview High principals. And fat chance Avery’s parents will even answer the phone if the school calls them. They’re on their own.

Avery walks into the main office and forces a half smile at Mrs. Buttleby, the school secretary, before handing her their crumpled hall pass.

“What happened this time, Avery?” Mrs. Buttleby asks, looking at them with disappointment and pity over her wire-rimmed spectacles. Hers is one of the few friendly faces in the school for Avery.

“I dunno,” Avery shrugs as they slouch into one of the shabby chairs in the waiting area. “Guess he’ll tell me when I go in there.”

As if on cue, the short, stocky figure of Principal Ludwig emerges from his office, face red with anger all the way to his hairline, which is about even with his ears. “Is Avery Watkins here yet?” he demands to Mrs. Buttleby, not even looking at the waiting area where Avery has slumped lower in their chair.

“Just walked in. Avery, Principal Ludwig will see you now,” Mrs. Buttleby answers with forced cheer.

“Come on, come on. Haven’t got all day to be dealing with delinquent shenanigans,” Principal Ludwig glares at Avery, who takes their time getting out of their chair and following Principal Ludwig into his office. “Close the door, have a seat. You know the routine.”

Avery complies, taking their time and the seat furthest from Principal Ludwig’s imposing cherrywood desk, although this seat is clearly stained from use by prior unfortunate visitors.

“Now. Do you have any idea why I’ve called you in here today?” Principal Ludwig begins, his tone rhetorical.

Avery shakes their head. “No, sir.”

“Take a look.” Principal Ludwig turns one of their computer monitors towards Avery, revealing fuzzy security footage of a teenager in a black hoodie and baggy jeans smashing soap dispensers and paper towel dispensers in a school bathroom. “This look familiar?”

“No, sir. Why would I waste my time trashing a bathroom?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. But it looks like you. Same height, same build. Hood’s up, so we can’t see the face, but–”

“When was this footage from?” Avery interrupts. “I’ve been wearing this red and gray hoodie all week. And my jeans are tighter than theirs. That ain’t me.”

“It’s from a couple hours ago,” Principal Ludwig growls, face reddening further at Avery’s interruption. “And nothing says you couldn’t have changed clothes. What’s in that bag of yours?”

Avery tosses their bag towards Principal Ludwig’s feet, knowing they have nothing to hide inside it. “Search if you want. No clothes, no drugs. Just some snacks and a couple notebooks.”

“You didn’t bring your Chromebook to school?”

“Left it in Mrs. O’Hara’s room. She lets me charge it in there, and I forgot–” Avery starts, then glances at the clock. “I was with her a couple hours ago, too. I spent my lunch helping her with–”

“Oh, please. Like you’d give up your lunch to help any teacher,” Principal Ludwig scorns.

“Why you wanna pin this on me? Ask her, if you don’t believe me.” Avery’s face and tone are earnest, and they actually make eye contact with Principal Ludwig as they make their plea.

Principal Ludwig starts to make an angry retort, but stops before saying a full word. “Right. I’ll just call her out of class to come join us. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.”

Avery winces slightly, knowing that it’s tech week for A Tale of Two Cities and Mrs. O’Hara is beyond stressed about the show, but they don’t stop Principal Ludwig from calling Mrs. O’Hara’s classroom, then paging a security guard to go watch her class so that she can come to the main office. Instead, they wait in sullen silence while Principal Ludwig answers a couple emails and mutters to himself until Mrs. O’Hara comes into the office without knocking.

“I hope this is really important, Principal Ludwig,” she says, trying to straighten her messy blonde bun and knocking sawdust onto the principal’s carpet in the process. Her jeans are torn and covered in sawdust and paint stains, and her Lakewood High School tee-shirt also has sawdust on it. One of her back pockets has a screwdriver, three drill bits, and an adjustable wrench sticking out of it, and the other seems to be full of screws. “Oh, hi, Avery. What are you doing here?” Her face and tone become sympathetic as she looks at Avery slumped in the corner of Principal Ludwig’s office.

“Avery is here on suspicion of vandalizing the second floor girls’ restroom,” Principal Ludwig answers for Avery, gesturing angrily at his computer monitor, which is playing the security footage of the incident on a loop.

“But Avery doesn’t even use the girls’ restroom,” Mrs. O’Hara protests. “They use the boys’ restroom, per the email from Mrs. Smith in Guidance last month. When did this happen? Staff haven’t even been told about this yet–”

“During fifth period lunch. Avery claims she–”

“They,” Mrs. O’Hara corrects. Avery hides a smile, grateful for Mrs. O’Hara’s validation and support.

“--was with you during that time,” Principal Ludwig continues with a scowl.

“They were. They’ve given up their lunch to help me with the set for A Tale of Two Cities every day for the past two weeks. So have Laney Johnson and Victor Gonzalez.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes. The show opens next Thursday and we haven’t been able to have enough after-school builds because of the talent show rehearsals in the auditorium–they kept complaining about the noise that power tools make in the shop, even with the doors closed–and I’m at my wits’ end. The Stagecraft classes haven’t been able to compensate, and I’m honestly really worried about leaving Mr. Sanford in the shop with 30 teenagers and power tools, so if you’re satisfied–”

“I’m not. If this isn’t Avery–” Principal Ludwig jabs a pudgy finger at the figure on his monitor, “--then who vandalized this bathroom?”

“Someone else who wasn’t in their assigned area or helping a teacher?” Mrs. O’Hara suggests, her patience waning fast. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be disrespectful, I just…. Maybe check Progressbook for a class cut report, or that overflowing writeup inbox on Mrs. Buttleby’s desk? I really can’t spend any more time on this until after the show closes. That person isn’t even wearing the same clothes as Avery. Why do you think they did it?”

Avery smiles smugly in their corner of the office but hides it by looking at their phone and scrolling through TikTok. A few videos in, they freeze, unable to believe their eyes as the ongoing debate between Principal Ludwig and Mrs. O’Hara fades to white noise.

“Hey, look at this,” they interrupt, thrusting their phone between the two adults. “Kayla Swansig posted it an hour ago. Looks like a confession to me.”

Principal Ludwig and Mrs. O’Hara watch Avery’s phone in amazement as the video plays, clearly showing Kayla in “delinquent clothes,” as she put it, and then a montage of her destroying the bathroom, then disposing of her disguise in the dumpsters behind the shop classroom.

“But she’s our cheerleading captain!” Principal Ludwig sputters. “The squad is meant to go to States next weekend!”

Mrs. O’Hara gives him a withering look. “Do you need anything else from either of us?” she asks in her most professional voice. “If not, I’ll gladly escort Avery back to class.”

“Go,” the principal relents with the sigh of a beaten man.

“Thank you. Come on, Avery.” Avery gratefully scoops up their bag and follows Mrs. O’Hara out the door, struggling to keep up with the theatre teacher’s aggressive power walking.

“You didn’t deserve that,” Mrs. O’Hara mutters to Avery once they get into the hallway. “Where am I taking you?”

“Geometry. Hartman,” Avery answers. “Unless you need more help with scenery–”

Mrs. O’Hara cuts Avery off with a laugh. “I wish I could take you up on that, but we don’t need to give Principal Ludwig any more excuses to have you in his office. How are you doing in Geometry?”

“Passing. Barely.”

“See if you can do anything to bring that grade up. Once the show’s over, you can come to me during lunch for help with those assignments, if you want. I was pretty good at geometry back in the day.”

Avery smiles. “I might. Thanks.” They pause, then brush their dark hair out of their eyes and make eye contact with Mrs. O’Hara. “For everything.”