A character gets caught red-handed breaking the rules, but they refuse to admit any wrongdoing. What happens next?

The chair was hard beneath his bottom. It wasn’t softened by his jittery legs, pumping up and down as if preparing for a race. They were just going fast enough to make the chair wobble a little, but not to slam on the ground. He badly wanted them to stop, and they would while he concentrated on stopping them, but as soon as his eyes left his legs, they started up again. 

Mr. Wolkens had this chair for as long as Brody could remember. First timers to the headmaster’s office would sit, and then start to bounce that back corner of the chair that was missing the little foot that screwed onto the bottom. It would release a sound a bit like a gunshot if you dropped it down just right. It drove Headmaster Wolkens crazy, and he would storm out of his office and scream “Would you knock it off with that racket!” Then go back in and close his door. But they never replaced the chair. Brody often thought that the headmaster’s inquiry began with the very chair he was now occupying. He was not about to make any noise right now, although he prided himself in sounding the closest to a real gunshot, at least in his opinion. He didn’t think his present company would find it very cool at all. 

Headmaster Wolkens looked in his direction several times, but his parents didn’t even look at him once. He kept his face as straight as he could. He was hoping the face he thought he was wearing was the same face Wolkens saw. He hoped his face was nonchalant, apathetic; maybe even bored. That would be a good look. Boredom would show that he really didn’t do it. If he looked guilty, it was all over. He knew that much. 

There was no evidence the headmaster had found. No one was there at all. It was just Brody. His hands were clean now, he had washed them. He didn’t think they would take fingerprints, but he really wasn’t sure. Could they even get fingerprints from that? He should’ve worn gloves! Well, there was nothing he could do about that now. He saw his mother begin to turn toward him and he put on his best “I Love you, Mom!” smile. Her face began to move into that grin she always gave him, but then paused, as dad gently directed her eyes back to the speaking Mr. Wolkens. That wasn’t a good sign. Usually he could always rely on his mom sticking up for him. 

He would take Henry’s advice when they finally came back into the room; deny, deny, deny. It seemed like a much better idea yesterday, but the other voice in his head wasn’t so sure anymore. They were in there for so long already. What could they possibly be discussing? Was he being thrown out of school? Surely not! This wasn’t the first time he had been in trouble. That was a weekly thing for Brody. He was smaller than most of the other boys, and he often thought he was being picked on. He was quick with a witty remark and even quicker with a fist. Even though Wolkens didn’t seem to like him, Brody had to admit that the headmaster was lenient on his punishments, even if he did look at Brody like he was a roach. 

It didn’t matter either way. Brody is Brody. He was going to do what he was going to do. He had seen an invitation on Wolkens’ desk when he was there for pantsing Will Fromm in front of the girls table on gym day. He tried to forget the date and time. He actually thought he had. He was just standing up to get a drink when he realized what date it was. It was also nearly time. Wolkens had most likely left if he was going at all. As he walked across the square, he saw the headmaster's car backing out of his driveway. And so he sat down on a rock near the lunchroom and waited.

 It had been his observation, and part of the reason he was in this school in the first place, that if people forget something, they turn around within five minutes, and sometimes up to eight. If it’s something really important like a phone or wallet, then they may come back no matter what. Many of his teachers told him he didn’t learn from his mistakes. Well, suck it!  Brody waited fifteen minutes before he entered the house. 

He tried to calm back down again. They were in there for so long. What were they discussing? His entire life? His medical records? Probably the ‘other’ record that win in a file right inside his office. Wolkens probably knew it by heart. He wished he could at least see his parents’ faces. He could get a good sense of what he was up against. They were never going to find the clippers, and Mr. Wolkens’ cat’s hair would grow back eventually. He looked back down at his legs and they stopped shaking. 

Mr. Wolkens had banged on his dorm room door at six-fifteen this morning, scaring both him and Rod out of bed. Rod just rolled back over. He knew the trouble wasn’t coming for him. Rod was a year older than Brody, and while they were dorm-mates, they didn’t really get along. Brody could count on one hand the amount of times that Rod had spoken to him. That was fine with him. Brody had lots of friends. He didn’t need Rod, that was for sure. Although Rod had been in the room when Brody snuck back in around 12:30 in the morning, he was pretty sure he had been asleep. Brody had snuck out many times and Rod had never said a thing, so Brody assumed he was a heavy sleeper. Worst case scenario, he hoped that Rod just wanted to mind his own business, even if he had heard Brody come in. And besides, Rod wouldn’t have known where he was when he left. “Mr. Nettles and Mr. Corcoran, This is a surprise room inspection!”

 Mr. Wolkens hair was wet, he was sweating, and his face was very red. “May I ask what you’re looking for, sir?” I asked in my best young proper schoolboy voice. Wolkens swung around so fast he nearly knocked into Brody. His nose ended up about three inches from his nose. His eyes grew squinty as he stared at him.  Through gritted teeth, he growled “Something happened to Einstein this evening. I am checking all the dorms.” Brody could tell he was furious but really trying to keep a lid on it. Brody was, of course, no help. “Einstein? Didn’t he die like a hundred years ago? What could have possibly happened to him tonight? Were his bones robbed from the grave?” Wolkens rose up to his full six foot three inches and one hundred and forty pounds, staring down at Brody, his eyes beginning to water. “I know you did this Mr. Nettles! I know it, and you know it! Brody began to open his mouth, but Wolkens’ face was in Brody’s again. “I’m watching you, Mr. Nettles. You best not say anything now, unless you want to really make me mad!” I’ll be having a meeting with your parents later! We’ll see what you have to say for yourself, then!” He abruptly turned, grabbed the door, stopped to look at Rod, who was still under his covers facing the wall, and slammed the door as he walked out. 

Brody was starting to feel like he had to go to the bathroom soon if this didn’t get wrapped up in the next few minutes. It wasn’t a good sign that they were still in there talking. He was really uncomfortable and wanted to stand up so badly. His mouth was getting dry too. That wasn’t a problem. He always had a pack of gum in his pocket. It was like his thing. He patted his pocket as he always did and froze. He started to think back. Was it on his dresser in his room? When was the last time he had a piece? He remembered putting a piece in his mouth right before he plugged in the clippers after breaking into Headmaster Wolkens’ house. Oh No! He looked up as the headmaster was offering his parents a piece of gum while grinning at him.