“It hasn’t,” I repeat, shaking my head.
Mr. Compton looks from me to Noah. I think he’s decided to try and chip away at Noah instead of me, his eyes becoming slits again.
“Lying will not help this situation, Noah. You’ve got good marks, and you are a good footballer. It would be a shame for anything to taint your record.”
Taint his record.
For something—or someone—to taint him.
“Headmaster Compton, I can assure you—” Helen starts, but Noah interrupts her.
“Mallory’s telling the truth,” Noah finally answers.
And Mr. Compton doesn’t look happy about it.
“These are things that must be thought about. The students are already talking, and parents will call soon enough. There has been quite the buzz about the fact that Noah and Mallory live under the same roof.”
And for the first time, I realize why Mr. Compton is taking this so seriously.
Why I should be taking this seriously.
“For another day,” I state, grasping at anything. “Then, I’m leaving. Just … give Noah detention. Please, don’t ruin his future because I was … because of me. Please.”
“What are you suggesting?” Mr. Compton asks with interest.
“This is my last day. Just let me go. Let my school in New York deal with me on Monday. Relay the message,” I reply.
Headmaster Compton crosses his arms over his chest, a smirk pulling at his lips.
“So, you’re taking accountability?” he asks.
I can feel Noah’s eyes on me, but I keep my gaze on Mr. Compton.
“For the kiss, yes. But nothing like this has happened between us before today,” I clarify.
“And how are we to be sure?” Mr. Compton pushes.
I shake my head, trying to come up with something. “Ask anyone. Noah and I are friends, but I’ve been in a relationship with Harry.”
“Then, why were you kissing Mr. Williams in the lunchroom?” Mr. Compton asks, not following.
“A great question …” Noah says under his breath.
I close my eyes, trying to keep myself from reacting.
“I … was upset,” I say, opening my eyes back up. My cheeks flush with my answer. I didn’t expect to get drilled about why I’d kissed Noah. I thought I would get in trouble and then have to leave. Not recount my terrible thought process of how I’d put us in this position.
“Mallory can be a little … impulsive,” Helen says with an uneasy laugh, apparently sensing my distress.
Mr. Compton looks between Noah and me with suspicion. “This story just isn’t adding up.”
I suck in a desperate gulp of air, knowing that Headmaster Compton won’t be satisfied until I explain my actions. Until I can convince him that this hasn’t happened before.
“I kissed Noah because … Harry broke up with me today after something Noah said. And I wanted to hurt them both. I reacted.”
Helen sucks in a gasp over my shoulder. Mr. Compton raises his eyebrows.
When I glance to Noah, he’s just staring down. His eyes are on the tissue sitting in his lap.
“I know that I messed up,” I go on. And it’s more for Noah than it is for Mr. Compton. But he still won’t look at me.
“Do you?” Mr. Compton asks.
I pull my eyes away from Noah.
“Of course I do,” I almost whisper, wishing Helen didn’t have to witness this. And despite Noah not even looking at me, I know he’s absorbing every word. “Helen’s right. I have a slight problem with controlling my emotions, and sometimes, I do things without thinking. I didn’t intend to get anyone expelled.”
“Expelled,” Helen repeats.
She ushers Noah up and out of his chair, taking a seat herself. She looks like she might faint. Noah stands awkwardly, like he wants to crouch down and hide under the table but Helen would never let that happen. She looks between the two of us, fire back in her eyes. I push further into my seat, really wishing I could become invisible.
“All right, all right,” Headmaster Compton says. He must realize that we’re about to be skewered again by Helen, and instead, he wants to be the one to do it.
Or maybe he’s scared of Helen too.
“You’re both done for the day. I want you out of my office. Out of my school.”
“Gladly,” Helen replies with relief, springing up.
“What about our tests?” I ask. I don’t even know where the question came from. After everything that’s happened, after wanting to just leave, it shouldn’t have even crossed my mind.
“You should have thought about that before your outburst,” Mr. Compton replies with a crooked smile.
I gape at him. He’s enjoying this way too much.
“Right. Well, I hope we all can agree that a failed exam and detention are suitable punishments for your actions,” Helen says.
I keep my mouth shut and stand up.
“Come by my office on Monday. We will talk about detention then,” Headmaster Compton says, sounding pleased with himself. “And, Miss James, as always, it’s been a true pleasure,” he says dryly.
Before I have a chance to reply, Helen ushers us out of the office. Noah is a few steps ahead of us, but he turns to face me and his mom when we get into the hallway.
“You two,” Helen says, rubbing at her temples.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her.
“As you should be,” she fires back. Which I deserve. But Helen lets out a small huff, her eyes softening. “Why don’t you both go collect your things while I pull the car round?”
Noah and I nod at her as the bell goes off.
“Right. Make it quick,” Helen says before dashing off.
The moment that she’s out of the building, I turn on my heels and head for my locker. I don’t wait for Noah. Any second, the halls are going to flood with students, and all eyes are going to be back on me.
On us.
I can hear Noah behind me, but I don’t turn around. When I get to my locker, I clear everything out. I shove all my notebooks into my bag before reaching for my large pile of textbooks.
“Ready?” Noah asks, sounding impatient. He’s got his backpack hanging off of one shoulder and is wearing an impenetrable expression.
“Almost,” I say curtly, pulling my textbooks out of my locker, trying to stack them in my arms.
Noah lets out a huff, grabs the stack of textbooks out of my hands, and takes off down the hallway.
I slam my locker shut, trying to catch up to him.
“I can carry my own books,” I say at his side.
“Slowly, apparently,” he replies, picking up his pace.
The students in the hallway part around us, and all of their conversations stop. Noah doesn’t glance around. I’m not sure he even notices that the only sound in the hallway now are his loud, echoing footsteps.
Everyone is watching us. I search as we walk, not sure if I’d be relieved or mortified to find a set of eyes I knew well.
But I don’t.
Noah is past the offices and almost to the entrance when I finally speak again.
“I need to drop off my textbooks,” I state, stopping him. I motion for him to give me back my books.
“We can do it later,” Noah replies, keeping his grip on them.