To say Jason Jones was odd would be an understatement to say the least. He was a rather tall and skinny boy with a messy mop of auburn hair adorning his head like a proud mane, but what stood out the most was the tattoo on his left forearm that resembled some form of Celtic design, although the Goth girl that sits across from him in English Literature says it’s a Wiccan protection rune, but she was pretty odd herself in his mind.
Now you’re possibly wondering how this would be strange, but he was only fifteen years old! Whenever any adults looked upon it they would show him a look of contempt or disgust, but no matter how many times he would explain it was a simple birthmark they would ignore him or simply call him a liar.
It wasn’t only the mark that was strange; no. You see peculiar events would occur around Jason all the time. From his black Labrador suddenly changing into a Golden Retriever when he was five, to his most recent skirmish.
Jason currently sat outside the Principal’s office with an ice pack covering his right eye, not long beforehand a fight had broken out. Jason wasn’t one for fighting, he would rather avoid the fight than to become involved in it. But this time he didn’t have a choice.
The door to the Principal’s office opened and a tall, well build African American man sporting a goatee stepped out. His black suit made him seem more intimidating, but Jason knew him to be a fair and kind person. Even if he was awaiting punishment.
“Jason. Step into my office,” spoke the Principal in a very disappointed voice.
“Mr Smyth I can explain,” began Jason as he took a seat in front of the principal’s desk. But Principal Smyth held up a hand to command silence.
“As interested as I am in your version of events Mr Jones I wish to explain to you the grave situation that you have somehow landed your self in,” he sat down across from him and spoke as if he were condemning Jason to death, “Now look at it from our perspective. A young man has an altercation with you about twenty or so minutes ago is that correct?”
Jason sank into his chair, “Yes sir.”
“Now that very same boy struck you first if I am to understand eye-witness accounts correctly,” continued Principal Smyth, “Now here’s where this become interesting. Apparently you gave him a light shove. From that light shove he has several broken ribs, and a severe concussion. Because he was sent through a table in the cafeteria.”
Jason sank even further into the hard plastic chair.
“Care to explain to me what happened exactly to cause such bodily harm?” asked Smyth very calmly as he peered across the desk at Jason with piercing ocean blue eyes.
“I don’t know sir,” mumbled Jason sounding defeated, “He punched me and I pushed him. Next thing I know he was flying through the air.”
“So you don’t have an explanation?” asked Principal Smyth with a sigh, “For the incident that occurred his parents wanted to call the police. But you are lucky I am persuasive.”
Principal Smyth stood to his feet and peered out the window, “I convinced them to not call the police as I would be handling a suitable punishment. First of all I called your father. He should be here any moment, secondly I am afraid I am going to have to suspend your for the next three weeks. When you return you will be taking part in after school detention every Friday until the end of the school year.”
“Understood?” asked Smyth as he turned to shoot another icy stare at Jason.
“Y-Yes sir,” stammered Jason in response.
“Good,” he answered with a more relaxed demeanour, “Take this time to get your head straight. When you come back I expect a fully written apology.”
There was a knock on the door and a middle aged secretary poked her head into the office, “Sorry for the interruption but the boy’s father has arrived.”
“Please let him in,” says Principal Smyth with a sigh, “And may God help you Jason.”
The door boomed open as a grizzled Jacob Reigns hobbled into the room on his cane with a look of anger etched upon his face, “Smyth a word,” commanded Jacob as he fixed his grey suit and glared coldly at Principal Smyth.
“Of course Mr Reigns,” answered Smyth calmly, “Jason if you would please wait outside this should only be a moment.”
Jason nodded and went outside, the door closed behind him. He knew he was in big trouble now with his father, especially after such a serious altercation. He sat down and put his head in his hands wishing for all of this to be over.
“He deserved it you know,” said a voice from beside him.
Jason looked to his right to see the goth girl from English Literature sitting next to him, her long purple hair was tied into a high pony tail and her heavy eyeshadow made her dark chocolate eyes somehow pop in contrast to her dark clothing, which now that he actually looked clung to her figure quite tightly. Her t-shirt reminded him of the toy torturing tool from the first Toy Story.
“I’m sorry what?” he asked in confusion, in reality he was actually looking at the bat designs in her leggings that she was wearing, so he wasn’t really paying too much attention to what she had said.
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“He was a prick,” she stated in a matter of factly manner, “Marcus needed to be taken down a peg or two. Well in your case you knocked him completely off the totem.”
“You’re Diana right?” he asked to confirm.
“Uh yeah,” she said as if this was the most obvious thing, “You should know that though seeing as we’ve been in the same class for the past three months.”
“Diana I didn’t mean to hurt Marcus so badly,” said Jason in exasperation as he leaned back in his seat and stared up at the ceiling, “He may have been a bully but he didn’t deserve to be carted out of here on a stretcher.”
“You’re too pure you know that,” says Diana with an almost exasperated sigh, “It’s almost sickening.”
“Yeah well sorry for having a conscience,” he snarked back.
“There’s having a conscience and having no guts,” she retorted before standing up, “Well good luck with exile dumbass.”
Before Jason could answer back with a equally scathing retort she had already walked away from him. He watched her walk away, but something on the seat she had previously occupied caught his attention. A small scrap of paper.
He picked it up and unfolded it, scrawled in ink on the note was a phone number and the words, “Call me dumbass, you’re gonna need a friend in exile. Diana.”
Jason frowned, “I do not understand women. One second their rude and then their trying to be your friend.”
He sat back and stared at the phone number for a moment longer before taking out his phone and adding it to his contacts.
With a slight smile on his face from the prospect of having a new friend he pocketed the note in his brown leather jacket and shoved his phone back into his jeans.
A loud booming voice could be heard on the other side of the office door, meaning his father had finally blown his gasket, which also meant he was so screwed. Seconds later the door slammed open rattling the frosted pane within it, his father stepped out looking like he was ready to commit murder.
“Come on Jason we’re going home,” he said with a note of anger in his voice.
With his head down Jason followed his father out of the school. When they entered the parking lot his father approached a black 1969 Dodge Charger RT and without a word clambered into the driver seat, taking this as his queue Jason slipped into the passenger seat and sat in silence waiting for the verbal beat-down that was about to ensue.
With a roar of the engine they sped out of the parking lot and into the busy hustle and bustle of Chicago traffic. For a few minutes it was nothing but silence between father and son. But soon Jacob would break the silence, “Are you injured?” he asked with concern.
Jason wasn’t expecting this but answered, “Just a black eye.”
“Why did he hit you?”
“Because I’m a weirdo,” snarled Jason he he sank into his seat and glared out the window with suppressed fury.
“You my son are not a weirdo,” responded Jacob consolingly, “You are unique. We all are. And if everyone was the same in this world, well it would be a pretty boring world.”
Jason remained silent still staring out the window watching as all the traffic passed by, he considered his father’s words. But it was still difficult for him to see any positives.
“You know Jason,” began Jacob after a few more minutes of silence, “I think what happened today was both good and bad.”
“How do you manage that?” asked Jason as he looked at his father bewildered.
“Well that asshole won’t be bullying you any time soon. So that’s the good part,” says his father with a smirk, “Unfortunately the bad part is that you’re grounded for three weeks and you have to clean the garage.”
“Ugh really!?” groans Jason.
“Yup,” chuckles Jacob, “Oh and you’ll do all your chores too.”
“Fine,” sighs Jason in dismay.
“Well look at it this way by the time you’re finished being grounded you’ll be looking forward to going back to school,” jokes Jacob with a wicked grin.
“Nope definitely not,” responds Jason instantly, “School sucks. I prefer being grounded for all eternity.”
They pull up into the driveway of a rather large house in a fairly cosy cul-de-sac, if anyone were to describe it they would say it would look like the stereotypical white picket fence dream that most Americans would typically have.
Whilst most houses would have flowers or other forms plants in their garden, they did not, much to the chagrin of the local housing association. They however had a decorative fountain in the middle of their garden with the most hideous gargoyle in the centre spouting a stream of water from its mouth, apparently there was a massive argument over the water feature almost twelve years prior, and obviously his father won that argument seeing as it still remained.
His dad grunted as he got out of the car and leaned heavily on his cane, “I think you should make a start on that garage,” he says as he closes the car door. Jason groans, “Can’t it wait until tomorrow Dad? My face hurts like a bitch and I could really use a nap.”
“Fine,” agrees Jacob, “But the longer you prolong the inevitable the worse it will actually be.”
“You make it sound like I’m gonna die,” chuckles Jason.
“Have you seen the state of the garage?” asked Jacob with a chuckle as he opened the heavy oak door to the house, “It could very well be your end.”
“Point taken,” conceded Jason as he let out a rather large yawn.