Chapter four

4.
Going to the principals office is a goal that most students try to not achieve. I myself was one of those students who avoided it like the plague. Yet, I found myself sitting in a padded folding chair in Mr. Green's office one Thursday morning. It was not just a friendly visit.
I almost died in my seat when it was announced in science class that “Shane Baskett is needed to report to the principals office immediately.” Those who knew who I was turned towards me, various emotions covering their various faces. Some faces showed pity, some were neutral, and some just trying not to laugh at me. As I was walking out, hunching my shoulders trying very hard not to be so noticeable, I caught a glance of Sophia Markson's face. She was laughing, shoulders shaking up and down, yet no sound coming from her mouth. When she saw me looking at her, her face changed to one of brief sympathy, but it didn't last long. What's her problem? I thought as I walked to Mr. Green's office.
I was thinking about her again when the principal asked me a question.
“Do you know why you're here, Shane?”
“Not exactly. I mean, I think so, maybe, but I'm not sure.”
He smiled. “One of my advisors informed me that you weren't at the nominee meeting yesterday, and we're just curious why. Did you forget?”
“No, Mr. Green, I didn't forget...”
“So would you like to tell me why you weren't at the meeting, then?”
Not really, I thought. But of course I didn't say that out loud. I wasn't that kind of guy.
“I didn't forget, I just skipped it. I didn't think it would be that big a deal, because I'm not planning on doing anything for my campaign. I don't want to be the class president, or class anything. I think there are other people who would do a much better job. And I need to concentrate on schoolwork...” I trailed off, not wanting to think of any other reasons and excuses.
“Are you telling me the truth, Shane Baskett?”
“Yeah.”
Mr. Green was silent for a minute. I squirmed, very uncomfortable at even the thought of being in the principals office. I didn't like it at all. And it didn't help that Mr. Green was a very good people reader.
“You like to keep to yourself a lot, don't you? Kind of a shy guy, huh?”
“Yes sir, that's just who I am.” And you'd better not try to change it, I thought. Good thing he wasn't a mind reader! I noticed he was playing with his fingers, stretching them and wiggling his thumbs. He was thinking, deciding. Then his decision came.
“All right. I won't force you to participate in the election, except I'd really like you to vote. But we can pretend like you weren't nominated. You'd like that, right? I thought so. But, I want to help you, Shane. I'm very interested in you, you're not like most other teens your age. So I'm assigning you to something that I think will be good for you. Instead of attending the campaign and office meetings, you will attend sessions with the school counselor. Not that there's anything wrong with you, because I'm sure there isn't.” He leaned back in his chair, satisfied with his results. “Do you understand me?”
I nodded, a bit slowly, but I nodded.
“Good. But you know I have to call your parents and tell them about this, of course.”
I gulped, and my throat felt dry. “Yes, Mr. Green.”
“All right then, you may return to your class. But remember- you miss the sessions, you fail.”
I turned at the door and asked him one more thing before I left. “Fail what?”
He gave me a pointed look. “School.”
I nodded once, and left. Back in the hallway, it was transition time between classes, and I would have seen several people looking at me as I left the office if I hadn't been in a daze.
But I was.
I was out of the presidential race- and right into the shrink's office.
R caught up with me after my next class. “I heard you got pulled out of science.”
“Yeah, yeah. I was so embarrassed. Gosh.”
A strange look crossed my friend's face, but it left quickly.
“That's pretty unusual for you. Not being embarrassed, that is, but going to the big guy himself. I don't remember you ever getting called to the office, except that one time when it was your birthday or something...”
“Yeah, I had the same birthday as the principal and I gave him a gift or something. That was in the 2nd grade. You actually remember that?”
“Psh, yes. We were in the middle of some project or something. Actually, that's one of the only things I remember about second grade. But anyway, I'm dying to know, why did you go to the principals office?”
“Ah, shut up. You probably know already. I skipped the meeting yesterday... dur... but now guess what? I don't have to run for president, but I have to go to counseling sessions. Every day. Starting tomorrow, I guess. Or maybe even starting today!”
R looked at me, eyes wide open, mouth also hanging slightly open.
“You look stupid, man.” I snickered at him. But he continued to stare like that. Finally, he spoke.
“You...you... you have to go to the SHRINK? Man, I don't even know what to say to that!”
“Then don't say anything.”
I turned around and walked to my next class. I just wasn't in the mood for talking. Something inside me had turned bitter, changed my mood from sad and shocked to resentful. I was suddenly mad. Why should I have to go and tell someone all about the minute details of my life? Especially a stranger. I didn't even know the school counselor's name. In fact, I didn't even know if it was a man or a woman! I certainly didn't want to have to spend hours a week with him or her. I found myself getting mad at everything, my mood worsening when I didn't have anything to take it out on. I was mad at the principal, mad at my schoolwork, mad at the whole system! Why should they tell me what I have to do? I didn't need counseling. I remembered Mr. Green's words. I'm interested in you, Shane. You're not like other teens. Those words stung me like a wasp, venom spreading throughout my body and making its way into my heart. He hadn't meant them as an insult, but what else could he have meant?
Sure I wasn't like most other teens, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. I didn't drink, didn't smoke, didn't do drugs. I wasn't into porn or cutting (or any form of self-destruction) or even swearing. Of course not every teen did those things either, but I knew of some kids who even did all of them. I was practically a saint compared to them! And yet the principal was 'interested in me'. Normally that would have made me a bit nervous, just the thought of the principal knowing me, calling attention to myself. But this was different. I was just ticked off, in a low down bad mood. Even R couldn't cheer me up by trying to make me laugh at lunch. I might have smiled weakly, just to make him happy, but deep down I was depressed. Stupid mood swings, I thought as I was gathering my books to go home, Before I was just nervous at the thought of getting counseling. Then I was angry, now I'm just depressed. Great, now I'll have to go home and tell mom all about this.
I unlocked my bicycle from the many rows of bike racks, and was starting on my way home when I caught sight of Sophia Markson, unlocking her bike, also. I gave a small wave, and right before I pedaled off, she spoke to me.
“Sorry,” She said.
As confused as I had been before when she was looking at me in class, I made my way home. I wasn't exactly received happily.
“Shane Jeremiah Baskett!” My mother's voice scolded me, even before I was done walking through the door. “I got call from the principal today. They informed me that you had been nominated for presidency, skipped the meeting, and are now assigned to attend sessions with the school counselor, starting tomorrow. What is the meaning of this?”
One day when I was 5, I decided to climb the big tree in my backyard. It was very tall, stretching far out above the rooftops and spreading it's limbs every which way. I was bound and confidant to master that beast of a tree, though, so I started climbing. I took a stepladder with me, and it helped me up the first 10 feet or so. But the lowest branch was still a long ways away. But, being only 5, and also being very stubborn minded at the time, I needed to climb that tree. So I jumped, but missed the branch by several feet. I landed on the ground hard, all of the wind completely knocked out of me. It took me several minutes before I could talk again.
That was how I felt right at the moment when my mother demanded to know the meaning of “this skipping and nomination and counseling business,” as she called it.
“Shane! Answer me now or you're grounded for a week.”
“Mom! Just give me a minute, will you? Please.” I finally found my voice, and it was stronger than I expected.
She scowled, and I resisted the urge to tell her that “scowls are not becoming”, just like she had told me so many times. But I knew that that would just get me in even more trouble, so I held my tongue. After setting down my backpack and finding my way into the kitchen, I had thought of words to say.
“Okay, I'm ready. Now, what do you want to know?”
“Shane... you're pushing it...”
“Yes, Mom, sorry. All right, so... yes, I was nominated for class president. Yesterday. And I didn't tell you, because I don't want to be the class president. I don't even want to be the class secretary, Mom. And I knew you would force me to at least try it. So I just skipped the meeting, but Mr. Green found out or realized or something, and so I had to go to his office today and he says I have to take counseling instead.”
Surprisingly, my mother was quiet. She didn't immediately accuse me, or jump at me. She just stood there where she was, leaning on the kitchen counter, eyebrows slightly drawn. When she spoke, it was slow and careful.
“Okay, I think I understand what you're saying. And I'm sorry for getting so mad at you when you got home. But you just seem like you're changing so much lately, Shane. I mean, our relationship just isn't the same as it used to be, and it's making me sad. We don't talk very often anymore, and when we do usually one of us gets mad at the other. But I've been reading this book about parent-teenager relationships, and it had some very insightful things in it. So I hope that we're on our way to having a healthy relationship, okay? And I think that this counseling thing might be good for you. If you still don't think that you can talk to me, or even your father, maybe you could talk to another adult figure. What do you think?”
I have to say, my mom caught me completely by surprise. I was expecting a rash answer, maybe even a grounding, but definitely not an apology. My emotions and thoughts were running wild, but I didn't do anything except answer her as best I could.
“Uh, cool?”
She laughed a little.
“All right, son, we'll make a deal. You will go to these sessions and continue to do your best to be a good student, and I'll try to understand you better and build up our relationship. Okay?”
I smiled, nodding my head. “Yeah, Mom. That sounds fine.”
She gave me a hug, and then directed me to a snack on the kitchen counter. By the time I was upstairs in my room, I had to ask myself, What the heck just happened in there??