~Chapter 1: School Hard~
The school bell rang loudly, signaling the end of six period with its forceful sound. Students started shuffling about, grabbing their books and pencils, while chatting incessantly about typical
high school things like the last rumors or what they were gonna do for the weekend. Mr. Pratt stood by the open door, grabbing the pop quizzes he had just assigned to the thirty odd American
History students from their hands as they left the room.
His light blue button-down dress shirt, and black slacks were a extreme contrast to his shockingly platinum blonde hair, but he wore it well. At the age of thirty-two, he had yet to completely
outgrow his high school punk fashion that had been all the rage in 1980’s when he had come into his own.
The high chiseled cheek bones that shaped his handsome face seemed to defy gravity, and lead the path straight down to his very strong jaw line. His skin held a hint of tan, yet the paleness that existed there underneath still seemed to shine through, causing him to look almost flawless in appearance, and showed a slight contrast to his full lips that were now curved up into a open smile.
The most notable feature about his appearance was his eyes, however. Which were a dazzling shade of bright azure that seemed to change in color depending on his mood. Right now, they were so light in appearance, they almost looked supernatural.
“Remember your essays are due Monday.” He reminded them, rearranging the stack of papers in his hands. “No exceptions this time, Mr. Abrams.”
Parker smirked, stopping to hand over his quiz. “That was a one time deal, Spike. I totally respect your deadlines. You know you’re my favorite teacher.”
The older man gave him a disbelieving look, and proceeded to correct him. “It’s Mr. Pratt, Parker. And I wish you’d show that much enthusiasm about before the bell rings. Maybe I’m being to easy on you. After all, I am your favorite teacher. Should I have assigned something
more for my favorite student?”
“Don’t like you that much, dude.”
“Didn’t think so. Have a good weekend.”
Parker shrugged, then patted Spike on the shoulder friendly. “Have a nice weekend, teach. Go out, have fun. You should really look into getting laid too.”
“That’s enough, Parker. I’ll see you on Monday, with your Civil War essay complete and ready to hand in.” Spike gave him a stern look, which was only met with an amused chuckle, as Parker and the rest of the class poured out.
Spike looked over the papers briefly, checking the various answers absentmindedly, looking up suddenly when he noticed someone stop in front of him. “Mr. Giles. Was there something you needed?”
The older British man gave him a sorrowful look, taking off his thin-wired glasses to rub at the furiously, while looking anywhere but in Spike’s questioning blue eyes. They stood there in silence for a moment, the rumbling sounds of moving feet and horseplay
surrounding them.
Spike was completely confused by Giles’ regretful demeanor, thrown for a loop as to what could be so upsetting as to warrant such a dramatic response from the normally calm and collected librarian. He moved to let the older man enter the room, nodding in the direction toward his desk.
Giles placed his glasses back on his face, and followed behind, coming to a stop a few feet away from the old wooden desk, that was neatly organized. Spike put the quizzes into his bag, and turned back to the other man expectantly.
“Everything alright, Giles? You look like a bloke who’s puppy just bloody died.” Spike smirked, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
“Mr. Pratt, this is a very serious matter!” Giles told him, his voice raising an octave or two.
Spike knew something was severely wrong now. In all the years that he had been working here, just down the hall from his closest colleague, Rupert Giles had only resorted to using his formal name when forced to. In times when it was needed to drive a serious point home.
Giles was like a father to him, someone who had always stood by him, when even his real father had not. They had formed a friendship immediately, but men bonding over the obvious that they were fellow Brits. The tweed-wearing librarian had been the one to teach him the ropes on his first day of class seven years ago. They had remained friends from then on out, and Spike knew that Giles never got upset unless it was very was important.
“Well, it would help if I knew what they bleedin’ hell the matter was, now wouldn’t it?” He narrowed his eyes.
Giles met his eyes head on, and grimaced. “I’m deeply sorry, William. There was nothing I could do. I tried to put in a good word. Told them you would never do a damn thing like this, but Snyder was very clear on the matter.”
“On what matter?” Spike questioned, his own voice raising now in his angered confusion. “Giles, please tell me what the bloody hell is goin’ on?!”
Giles ignored his questions, continuing on as though the blonde man had never spoken.
“William, you have to understand. Once these accusations are made, there is nothing that can be done. The school board was very upset. They didn’t even want to allow you to finish out today. I was able to get Snyder to wait until classes were through, so that none of your students would have to be witness-”
Spike cut him off, growing increasingly upset. “Witness to what?”
Someone cleared their throat across the room, and both Englishmen looked up sharply. Snyder stood in the doorway, a sickened expression of his rodent-like face.
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Giles.” The bald man said, walking slowly into the room, as if he ruled the world. His beady little eyes never left Spike, even though his words were directed at Giles. The students seem to have all cleared out. I suspect you have had enough time to explain the circumstances to Mr. Pratt?”
Spike narrowed his eyes at the man, not liking his condescending tone. He spoke as though Spike weren’t even in the room, and suddenly the blonde teacher remembered why had had never liked the little troll.
“Actually, Snyder, I had yet to fill William in as to what the circumstances are, exactly.” Giles replied in a tone that was meant to show Snyder he was not about to shy away from his patronizing manner.
“Well, I think it’s time to get the show on the road. Don’t cha think?” Snyder smiled callously.
Suddenly a police officer appeared in the doorway. Spike took a step back.
“Giles, wha-”
“Mr. Pratt, please let me take this moment to let everyone here know how deeply ashamed I am. I am appalled that something this severe has gone on without my knowledge. I assure you this situation will be dealt with accordingly.” Snyder played up the part of victim, while Spike looked on, confused beyond belief.
“Snyder, I have no bloody idea what you’re on ‘bout. Would someone please exp-”
Snyder cut him off then, putting his hands up to stop anything Spike might have to say in defense. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Once these kinds of accusations are made, it’s outta my hands. You’ve proved too much of a liability for this school. Officer?”
The officer came into the room then, coming to a stop beside Snyder, watching Spike closely.
“Please escort Mr. Pratt here from the building.”
The officer came over to Spike and grabbed his right wrist when he went to move away. “Giles-”
“Mr. Pratt, you are under arrest for the sexual assault of a minor.”
“What?!” Spike asked in disbelief.
“The sexual assault-” He breathed, not able to force the words out. “Giles-”
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can, and will be used against you in a court of law.” The officer continued, ignoring Spike, as he cuffed the his hands behind his back listlessly. “You have a right to an attorney…”
“I’m sorry, William. I wish there was something I could do.” Giles told him sincerely, as though he thought Spike had actually committed the crime.
The officer lead Spike by his arm out of the classroom, Giles and Snyder following quickly behind.
“This is all just a huge bloody misunderstanding, Giles. I promise!” Spike told him venomously, trying to crane his neck to see the librarian behind the officer. “I need you to call my sister. Tell her to pick up Dawnie from school. Please.”
Giles nodded, though he knew Spike could not see it. “I will.”
“This is all a bloody mistake, Giles. I didn’t do anything.” Spike called out. Everything was happening so fast, and he felt as though the earth was spinning beneath him. Through the maelstrom of the situation, he was aware that he had been lead outside through the side doors, and was being guided into the back of a cruiser hurriedly, the blue and red lights flashing loudly around him. Closing his eyes at offending beams, he tried to gather his wits and get his breathing under control.
What the bloody hell was going on?
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Author's Chapter Notes:
After my disastrous experience with my first long story, I have decided to keep a set schedule on updates, being once a weekend, every Tuesday. This will help me not get behind with updating, and therefore keep readers. Hope this helps, and that everybody will enjoy this!
Disclaimer: Don't own anything!!
Disclaimer: Don't own anything!!