* * *

If you’re thinking about getting into a fight, make sure the other guy punches first.

Don’t think about winning or losing; that's not what matters. What matters is that you're not seen as the aggressor when the cops show up.

Go outside and look around; if you're lucky, you're going to see a pair of guys screaming and yelling and daring the other to throw their fist punch.

Why?

It’s so that, win or lose, they can say it was self-defense.

Defending yourself is fine because attacking someone is wrong. People only care about the person who threw the first punch. It doesn't matter who wins or loses; the person who takes all the blame is the one who attacked first

So, if you’re considering getting into a fight, make sure someone else takes the first shot.

Isaac sat in the school’s office, waiting to talk to the principal. Parents were being called and would show up later, but the principal wanted to speak to the main instigators separately before they had a chance to change their stories.

So far, he was the only one left who hadn’t been called into the office. Mrs. Dion wanted to talk to everyone else before talking to him, leaving him alone in the office with nobody to talk to except the two school security guards on either side of him.

They kept a wide berth around him, and no one else dared to get near him. They were all afraid that he was going to attack them. So they just quietly worked as their eyes tracked his every move.

Not surprising. Everyone knew who he was; there wasn’t a doubt in their mind that he started everything.

Giving Isaac a chance to talk was just a courtesy to his great-grandpa.

Leaning back into his chair, Isaac felt everyone’s eyes on him. Their eyes felt like little weights pressing against his skin. All of them were judging, thinking that he shouldn’t be here, that he should be rotting in jail, and all that other fun stuff that they said behind his back.

Which was fine, he guessed. It's not like he didn’t deserve it.

No one walked out of that fight untouched. Bruises, concussions, somebody even got their hand broken.

Everyone was being carted to the hospital. The school’s nurse couldn’t take on this many injured children, and multiple ambulances would be needed to transport everyone.

What was getting into trouble compared to that? Isaac knew that he caused problems for everybody. Did that mean that he was going to stop? No, that just meant that while he would act however he wanted, he would also accept responsibility when everything was over.

Doing whatever you wanted came with a price. If you weren’t prepared or willing to pay that price, you shouldn’t have done what you did.

But none of that was as distracting as the shouting coming from the office behind him. The two vice principals, Mr. Goui and Mr. Longuiz, went in a few minutes ago, and neither has left.

Most schools in Texas have one principal and one vice principal, but due to its size, the Rain Wilde Middle School had two vice principals.

He couldn’t hear what they were discussing, but Isaac knew it had to be about him. Whenever those two were seen arguing, it was usually about him.

Mr. Goui never liked Isaac. Some people never know if someone truly doesn’t like them, but Isaac knew. He knew because Mr. Goui told Isaac himself. He told him he was a “ Rude, selfish disruption to the other students and that he didn't like him, not one bit.”

Isaac just saw him as a grumpy old guy who wanted his way, and no one else did.

But even if Mr.Goui wouldn’t be nice to Isaac, Isaac would at least try to be nice to him. He tried talking to him in the hallways, asking how his day was going, giving passing hellos, and even giving him hugs—all of it Isaac did because he was a nice person], also because he thought it was funny.

Mr. Goui saw it as disrespectful.

Mr. Longuiz, on the other hand, was an old friend of the family. He always tried to stay on Isaac’s side, even when he was in the wrong. But this time, it didn’t sound like he would have much luck. This time, Isaac went too far.

Over twenty kids were going to be sent to the hospital because of Isaac. Some were never even part of the fight; they were just unlucky enough to be there when it happened. There was no way for Mr. Longuiz to spin this for Isaac.

Bang!

Across from Isaac, Tanner exited the principal's office, slamming open the door as he left, the door crashing into the wall with a bang. His feet were heavily stomped out of the room. His face was all red and scrunched up in anger while his eyes darted all over the office.

Through the sea of busybodies, Tanner searched for Isaac. As Isaac watched him fail to find him, he had an idea: What if he helped him?

‘This is going to be funny,’ Isaac thought to himself.

Putting on the largest smile that he could, Isaac waved at Tanner. Acting like he was one of his bestest of friends. Isaac waved him over, calling him over to his side to sit with him.

Man, if Isaac thought Tanner was mad before, it was like a bomb went off in his brain when he saw Isaac. His eyes were wide with fury, and Tanner glared at Isaac. His nostrils flared out as he breathed out. He was like a bull seeing red; he was so mad.

His hands were clenching and unclenching by his sides, almost like he was imagining them around Isaac’s neck.

He looked like he was ready to go over there and restart their whole fight right in front of everyone in the office.

But, before he could even take a single set, the offices on either side of Isaac stepped in front of him, blocking Tanner's view of Isaac. Isaac could see as Tanner glared down at the offices, daring them to move out of the way, but the officers were like rocks. They stood there and didn’t move an inch.

“ Mr. Maifield!” Mrs. Dion called from inside her office. “ Watch how you act, or I might change my mind.”

Tanner acted as if he didn't hear her. Instead, he glared at Isaac, his eyes like daggers stapping into him. Isaac could see him torn between walking away or taking a swing.

“ Well?!” She called out again, warning Tanner.

Tanner snarled under his breath; there wasn’t anything he could do. He had to walk away.

“ Yes, Mrs. Dion, " he growled out. With one last glare aimed at Isaac, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked away.

Apparently, punching Isaac wasn’t worth getting in trouble with Mrs. Dion.

Watching him trod along, Isaac couldn't help but laugh as he watched Tanner through the officers' arms. Waving Tanner goodbye, Isaac’s eyes followed him until he left the office.

“ Isaac,” Mrs. Dion called from her office, summoning Isaac in.

Signing, Isaac slapped his hands on his knees and pushed himself up. It was time to get this over with, he guessed. Shrugging to the officers beside him, Isaac waved them goodbye before walking into the office.

A cool breeze wrapped around his body as soon as he entered the office. Five fans were placed around the room, all working at maximum strength to keep the temperature almost freezing.

Before moving to Texas, Mrs. Dion originally lived in Washington, where she was more used to cooler weather. No one knew why she moved so far south, but she obviously hadn’t adjusted to Texas’s almost desert heat.

It was almost impossible to find her outside the office in the spring. She mainly stayed inside, away from the heat.

Mrs. Dion was a small woman with bright red hair that always stood out whenever she was outside, the light lighting up her head like a bonfire. She was nice enough for a principal, always patient and willing to listen to students constantly bothering her. But she was alson’t afraid to lay into some of the students.

Once, two guys were fighting in the hall, right in the center of the hall they were fighting. No one was getting in between them; they were afraid of being dragged in. But Mrs. Dion marched right up to them, grabbed them by the back of their shirts, dragged them straight outside, and closed the door behind them.

She was someone that all the students respected, even Isaac. But that didn’t mean that he liked her. Isaac hated being in her office, and every time he came here, there was another reason to hate.

When Isaac walked in, Mrs. Dion was sitting at her desk, looking at the papers on her desk. Standing in front of her, Isaac decided to wait for her to notice him before doing anything.

Just because he didn’t like her meant he couldn’t be polite.

When she saw him standing in front of her, she motioned for him to sit down, still working while he did. Only after he had sat down did she put aside her papers and fully look at Isaac.

Leaning back in her plush leather chair, Mrs. Dion silently stared at Isaac as she folded her hands over her stomach.

Her eyes were bearing down on Isaac as she stared at him with silent judgment. The clock ticked loudly behind him as they waited in silence, waiting for the other to break the tension first.

Isaac already knew what she was doing. She did this every time he came in here. Hell, Isaac figured that she did this to every kid who sat down in front of her.

She’d stare solemnly at them, wait for them to speak, and when they nervously broke the silence with their desperate need to speak, she would jump on them with her patronizing words.

She’d start with the usual, “ Mr. Cantor, do you know why you’re in here?” Then she’d say, “I’m so disappointed,” and “ I know you can do better.”

And then, when she’s said all she can say and practically talked Isaac’s ear off, she’ll finally let Isaac go with a final word of calling his parents and the hours of his detention.

But none of that would have mattered because by the time he left, her words would have already slipped out of his head, and he would continue on his day as if nothing had ever happened, only with a few hours of his life missing as a reminder.

And normally, that would be fine: a few hours of incessant talking, a couple of days of boredom in detention, plus his parents. That's fine; it's a great trade-off for having fun.

But this would be the last time he would ever step foot in this office. He didn’t want to leave here without getting one last good look at the place, you know, before Mrs. Dion messed it up even more.

He didn’t want to spend his last day in this office by having a starring contest with the lady who ruined it in the first place. So instead, he was ignoring her while he looked around the room.

The Rain Wilde Middle School was a legacy school for Isaac’s family. His family had been coming to this school since it was first built. Isaac had seen pictures of his relatives going to this school, some of them in this very office.

Some were there for good reasons, while most of them - eh, not so much. Of course, that was most of the Cantor family, now that he thought about it. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that Isaac knew what the inside of this office was meant to look like.

Letting his eyes wander around, Isaac noted all the decorations and nicknacks Mrs. Dion had cluttered the room with.

‘Man,’ Isaac thought. ‘almost ten years working here, and she’s filled this room with junk.’

That sounded mean. People were allowed to decorate their space however they wanted, but she ruined the room with all her junk.

None of her stuff fit in with the old furniture, so she got rid of it. She repainted the walls from forest green to boring cloth grey, and she even removed the old wooden chandelier and replaced it with one of her stupid fans.

Isaac’s great-grandfather was twelve years old when this school was built. In fact, the Cantor family were the ones to build this school. Cantor hands put up the walls, raised the ceilings, and built this office.

The wooden bookshelves embedded into the wall, the stained wood floor, the trim work along the walls, and the wooden barrel wheel chandelier with lanterns hanging down were all done by Cantor's hands.

This office had never changed, even after seventy years of use. The previous principals loved the room, so they kept everything the same.

Then Mrs. Dion shows up and decides that she was just going to mess everything up.

Curtains over the beautiful arched windows, trimmed out with stained wood. An ugly rug that covered the stained hardwood floor. Full bookshelves filled with large antique books were emptied and then barely filled back in—stupid glass figurines cluttering up the open space and five stupid fans that froze the nice summer heat.

She even removed all of the previous principals' photographs—over a hundred pictures of the school from the past to the present—to make room for her personal photos.

Some of Isaac’s family were in those old photos.

The first time Isaac came to Ran Widle, he was so excited to see this office—the office that his great-grandfather helped build. Isaac even purposefully made some kid cry so he would be sent to the principal's office to see its beauty firsthand.

What did he do to the kid? Hell, if he knew, he just needed an excuse to get to the office.

He was so happy walking into the principal's office. Finally, he was going to see it. After years of only seeing the office through pictures, he would finally step into it for real.

Then he walked in.

The rest of that day was a blur for him. He didn’t even remember what was said in that office. Throughout that entire experience, a single question kept popping into his head: Where was he?

This wasn’t the room he had seen in the pictures; everything was different. Surely, he must be in the wrong room. When he finally accepted that Mrs. Dion had changed everything, Isaac knew that he was never going to like Mrs. Dion.

His family's history were on those walls, and she took it down.

“Mr. Cantor, please pay attention.” Mrs. Dion asked, exasperated.

Isaac rolled his eyes. Reluctantly, he sat up, turning around to face Mrs. Dion.

Looking at Mrs. Dion, Isaac waited for her to say something as she studied his face, looking for any sign that he wasn’t paying attention. It was only after she knew that he was listening that she continued.

“ I am disappointed, Isaac. Three more days, and you would have been gone for summer, but here you are again in the same place you have been in for the last three years, and this time you have really outdone yourself. ” She said, leaning forward.

Isaac tried to act as confused as he could. “Mrs. Dion, I didn’t do anything. Tanner was-.”

“I know, Mr. Cantor, I know. Just like how I know that you antagonized Mr. Maifield to the point that he would fight you.”

“ I have no idea what you're talking about .” Isaac tried his best to fight against the growing smirk on his face. But from the look on Mrs. Dions' face, he obviously wasn’t going to win that particular fight.

That’s fine; it's not like he was trying to hide it that hard anyway. He didn’t need her to think he was innocent; in fact, it would have been more funny if she had known. At any other time and for any other person, Isaac would gladly have taken responsibility for what happened.

But today, Isaac was feeling particularly bored, and Tanner was being particularly annoying, so now he gets to take all the blame.

“ I do not want to play any of your games today, Isaac! " Mrs. Dion exclaimed. “ We have the end of the year to finish wrapping up, and I'm at my wits' end with you!”

Mrs. Dion took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She looked tired as she asked Isaac, “ What? What made you decide that starting a brawl in the middle of the cafeteria was a good idea?”

“ Mrs. Dion-.” Isaac tried to explain again, but she interrupted him.

“ Stop, Isaac, no more games. Why?”

Mrs. Dion was begging Isaac now. She needed to know why. Why would Isaac do this so close to graduation? He was leaving in two days and never coming back. Why did he do this to her when the end was so near?

Looking at Mrs. Dion, Isaac saw how much this question bothered her. She just couldn’t understand why Isaac did the things that he did. And Isaac could have lied to her. He could have told her anything right now, and she might have taken it.

He could have told her that Tanner and his friends were rude to him and Luci or that Isaac never started the fight—' it was Tanner and his friends.’

Isaac could have explained to Mrs. Dion that Tanner was a bully who belittled and hurt anybody he didn’t like. That, in sixth grade, it was Isaac and Luci who were his prime targets. How he bullied and attacked them until they cried.

But it would be a lie.

Isaac and Luci were never hurt by anything those kids said about them. They never cared what anybody said about them. And while Tanner was a bully, he never once bothered them. Tanner preferred softer targets, not ones that can fight back, like Isaac and Luci.

In fact, Tanner meant so little to them that before today, Isaac barely knew Tanner’s name.

So, after three years of attending this school, attending classes, and causing problems. After having all the fun that he could possibly have, why lie now?

Isaac told the truth.

“ Because it was fun,”

Mrs. Dion frowned; that wasn’t the answer she was looking for. But it was the truth. Everything Isaac did, from following Luci to disrupting classes and even getting into fights. Was for fun.

After Isaac’s answer, the room fell into heavy silence. Neither one of them said anything. Isaac was perfectly comfortable in the quiet; it certainly beat talking to Mrs. Dion.

Mrs. Dion stared at Isaac, waiting for him to add anything else. After waiting over a minute, it became clear that Isaac had nothing more to add.

Sighing out loud, Mrs. Dion said.

“ That is very sad to hear, Mr. Cantor.”

Putting her glasses back on, Mrs. Dion got up from behind her desk and went over to her filing cabinets. Reaching in and pulling out a file, she started to ask Isaac a question.

“ Mr.Cantor, do you know what your teachers think about you?”

Isaac was confused. What did they have to do with this?

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“ I don’t think they like me very much, ma’am.”

Isaac knew that he wasn’t the best student. Sure, he did the work and turned in his homework on time, but he was constantly bored. When he was bored, he found ways to make things fun. Cracking jokes and being silly just livened up his day.

It made the constant back and forth between classes seem less cold and more joyful. At least to him, it did.

“ No, in fact, they actually think that you are a very bright child, Mr. Cantor. They see how you speed through your work and how well you understand what is being taught.” Sitting back down, Mrs. Dion placed a folder on her desk.

From where he was sitting, Isaac was barely able to make out his name scrawled across the top of the folder.

“Your entire school file is in this folder, Mr. Cantor.” She said, flipping through the first few pages. Then, she began to read out loud what was written there.

“ Isaac Canto is one of the brightest kids in his year. If he can bring himself to focus, he can go so much further. That was from your algebra teacher, Mrs. Greene. Mr. Trent says Isaac is a joy to have around. He always makes the class laugh and have a good time. Unfortunately, this is the time for many students to put in the work. Many students can not afford to have Isaac as a distraction. If Isaac is not moved, many of his fellow classmates will surely fail this year.”

Mrs. Dion closed the folder, placing it in front of Isaac before leaning back into her chair. “There are many more like that, Mr. Cantor, many teachers who think you can be so much more than who you act to be.”

Isaac didn’t know what to say. This was the first time that he had actually heard what the school's teachers thought of him.

He tried to act indifferently, but Isaac couldn't help but feel a warm sensation in his chest. It was hard not to feel good when people complimented you, especially when no one seemed to like you for being you.

Isaac knew no one liked him; he’d known this since he first met other people. He could see it in their eyes as their smile slowly fell with each word he said.

He wasn’t deaf to their groaning, nor was he blind to their frowns. People hated hearing him talk and hated being around him.

When he was younger, he never understood why kids didn’t want to be around him or why the teachers would angrily tell him to be quiet. He was just having fun, wasn’t everyone else? If he finds something funny, surely everyone else will also, right?

It took Isaac a long time to learn how different he was from everyone else. Not everyone wanted to laugh all day, and sometimes, the jokes stopped being funny. Sometimes, it's time to be serious and work.

But Isaac just wanted everybody to laugh with him, to smile, and to have a good time. Most of all, he wanted to have a good time. Isaac doesn’t want to be serious; he wants to laugh and play all day.

Why should their happiness be more important than his? What right did they have to tell him to stop? If he’s not doing anything illegal, then they can just ignore him.

What's the point of living if you're not laughing? Why is it so wrong for Isaac to be happy?

That’s why, even though he liked hearing people say good things about him, he wasn’t going to stop. If being liked by everyone means stopping being happy, then Isaac would rather everyone leave him alone.

But they were interrupted just when he was about to say that to her.

Shouting was heard from outside, broke the atmosphere in the office. Isaac and Mrs. Dion looked at each other in confusion. Neither of them knew what was happening outside.

“-ere is he!!” They heard as the voices got closer.

“ Ma’am, he is in a meeting with the principal right now. Please wait while they finish up.”

Isaac flinched as he realized the voice that was storming its way to them.

It was his mom.

Very few things scared Isaac: the dark, bugs, and his mom. Soffia Cantor was usually a very nice lady. She was someone Isaac was comfortable joking with and the one he told everything to.

But when she got mad, things got scary. Isaac was surprised that there was actually anybody brave enough to get in her way. Due to Isaac's long history of being called to the office, the Rain Wilde Middle School has become very familiar with his family.

And the first thing that they learned was not to get in his mom’s way. When Soffia Cantor is on a warpath, people know to get out of the way.

Once, she turned one of his teachers into a crying mess just by glaring at him.

“ Move out of my face! Come on, Patrick, forget them; he’s over here!!” Soffia screamed, her voice getting louder as she closed in.

Isaac was sweating in his chair. His mom did not sound happy right now, and just hearing her scream, Isaac knew that things were bad. His mom never screams.

When Soffia gets mad, she stops talking and stares at you. Her eyes turn into frozen pools of liquid rage that stops your heart when you look at them. When she speaks, she talks slowly, so slow that you can hear every word. And she gets quiet, to the point that you strain your ears just to hear her.

Isaac had never once heard her scream like that in public. For a second, he didn't even believe that it was his mom coming to the door. Obviously, it was someone else. His mother would never raise her voice, especially to a stranger.

And then she walked in.

Bang!

After seeing the door slam open, Isaac no longer had any doubts—that was his mom. Because what other four-foot-eleven would just bust into a school principal's office with no permission and stand there in her casual T-shirt, jeans, and nice heels like nothing happened?

Isaac could see that Mrs. Dion was stunned. He didn’t blame her; he would be, too, if he didn't live with her.

His mom was not somebody that you can prepare for.

People are always surprised, meeting his mom for the first time. They know of her, from the stories people tell about her, about how scary and mean she is. They all fear her before ever having met her.

You expect a monster to come smashing through your doors from the stories you hear about her.

Nobody expects a tiny Latina lady to come walking through their doors.

But when she stormed into that office, she looked ten feet tall. It was like she was standing over everyone's heads, looking down at them like they were the small ones.

Coming into the office, Soffia Cantor was like a goddess of war. She was beautiful, but at the same time, her face was like a general going to war—no emotion but eyes blazing with an intense fire. Nobody said a word, afraid that her eyes would land on them.

Ignoring everyone else, she continued walking into the office, her heels echoing through the silence.

Behind her was his dad, Patrick Cantor. He was at the door apologizing to everyone as he nervously ran his hands through his short hair. Fixing his glasses on his face, he awkwardly followed Soffia into the office.

Isaac was surprised to see his dad here. His dad didn't like anything to do with confrontation. He was a timid guy, so he usually left these kinds of visits to Mom.

But before he could even begin to question why his dad was here, his mom was already in his face, screaming at him in Spanish.

“ Isaac, una pelea, ¿para eso nos has hecho venir aquí?” She shouted.

“Tu padre tuvo que salir del trabajo, tuve que llamar a tu abuela para ver la cena - sólo por una pelea, ¡y no sólo eso sino una pequeña pelea! Si nos van a llamar aquí porque empezaste una pelea, ¡será mejor que sea porque fue una gran pelea, no esta mierda de jardín de infantes!”

She was screaming so load that some of Mrs. Dion’s figurines were shacking on their little shelves.

All the while, Isaac sat silently, not saying a word, letting her voice wash over him like she wasn’t even there. Years of living with his mom had taught him that talking back would only make things worse.

It was better to say nothing and just keep nodding his head.

“ Hey!” Soffia said as she smacked Isaac across the head. “ Are you listing me?”

“ Yes, ma’am,” Isaac muttered.

Mrs. Dion tried to intervene. “ Mrs. Cantor, please, we do not allow physical violence on this property. Now, if you could please sit down-.”

That was the wrong thing to do. You do not draw attention to yourself when a bull is right in front of you.

“ Excuse me? How I disciple my son should have nothing to do with you, Bree. If you can’t-.”

“Soffia, please calm down. She's just doing her job.” Patrick placed his hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down.

Shrugging his hand off of her, Soffia ignored Patrick. Instead, Soffia started to get mad at the principal, completely forgetting Isaac for a second as she marched towards Mrs. Dion.

“ That is Mrs. Dion, Mrs. Cantor. And in case you haven’t forgotten, I speak Spanish as well. So if you would stop lecturing your son about this “ small fight” that doesn't interest you, we can all sit down and talk, " Mrs. Dion said.

“ Yes, why did you call us down here, Bree? Don’t you know how to deal with Isaac by now? He’s been here long enough; you shouldn’t need us to hold your damn hand every time Isaac gets called down here. Handle it your own damn self!”

Soffia stood in front of Mrs. Dion, her hands pressing down on her desk as she leaned down towards her, getting right in her face.

Mrs. Dion tried to keep a calm face, but Isaac could already see how her eyes tightened as she looked at his mom. It looked like his mom wasn’t the only one ready to pop off right now. Isaac’s never seen Mrs. Dion get mad; this should be fun to see.

“ Mrs. Cantor, I am trying to be respectable here, but as of right now, you have not only interrupted my meeting, but you have also rudely entered my office without my permission and are now blaming me and my staff for not disciplining your son over the trouble that he has, Trouble-.” Mrs Dion then lifts the folder in front. “ - I might add that your son has been causing for the entire three years that he has been in my care at this school.”

Standing up so that she was above his mom, Mrs. Dion continued.

“ Now, before I call the offices outside those doors and have you escorted off of this property, please sit down so we can have a civil conversation.”

Everyone was quiet for a second, waiting to see what his mom would do. For a second, Isaac thought that he was going to see his chock-slam, his almost 6-foot-tall principal, through her desk. But thankfully, after a few seconds of tense silence, she backed off the desk and sat down next to Isaac.

“ Bring a chair over here and sit down, Patrick.” She called back to Patrick, not taking her eyes off Mrs. Dion.

“ Uh, there aren’t any more chairs here, Soffi-” Patrick tried to tell her as he looked around the office.

Annoyed, his mom turned to yell at his dad.

“ Well, go get one out there!” she gestured to the door. “ Hurry!”

Jumping up, his dad quickly ran out of the office, coming back a few seconds later with another chair. Placing it right next to Isaac, he quickly sat down. Seeing everyone waiting on her, Mrs. Dion nodded as she sat back in her chair.

“ Now, before we say anything else, I would like you both to know that we at Rain Wilde know and appreciate the long history that the Cantor Family shares with Lubbock.” Mrs. Dion started, making sure to look at all three of them before continuing,

“However, " she pauses. “That does not mean Isaac can be allowed to continue this disruptive behavior.”

Looking directly at Isaac, she addressed him specifically. “ You have been given more leeway than anyone else. And given the situations you find yourself in, maybe too much.”

“ Hey!” His mom tried to interpret, but his dad held her back

Mrs. Dion ignored his mom. “Many of your actions should have, at the very least, deserved suspension or even jail time. But you have not. Do you know why that is?”

Of course, Isaac knew why; everyone knew why. And they always made sure to remind him every time he was in trouble.

It was because of his great-grandpa.

Thanks to his great-grandpa, Isaac could slide past almost any trouble he created thanks to his great-grandpa.

Two years ago, during sixth grade, Isaac threw a girl off the stairs so that he would be the first one in the cafeteria.

Now, that wasn’t as bad as it sounds. People say, “Off the stairs,” but it was only a couple of steps, not a whole story like the news was trying to tell.

She was fine. She only had a few bruises, maybe a sprain or two, nothing major.

Now, Isaac could have been charged with assault, and honestly, he should have been. However, the judge sentenced Isaac to just five months of comity service, during which all the money that he made would be given to the girl and her family.

The school’s punishment was that he would be in detention for the rest of the year, after school for three hours.

Oh, and he got a personal ass beating from his mother, but that’s beside the point.

The point was that Isaac could not have gotten off so lightly if not for his great-grandpa Jaime Cantor.

When his great-grandpa was four years old, his family moved to America from Mexico. Like everyone else who came to America, they were looking for new jobs and opportunities. In Mexico, they had nothing, but in America, they believed they had a chance.

At that time, the Great Depression was starting to wind down, and Lubbock, a relatively new city, was looking for framers and construction workers to help build its town.

While not knowing the trade in the beginning, the Cantor family quickly built themselves up to be the number one contracting family in Lubbock. There was not a job that his family wouldn't do, big or small; they worked on them all.

Pretty soon, other relatives from Mexico joined in, all wanting to build new lives in America.

In 1956, his great-grandpa turned their small practice into a large family business. By the time his mom was born, the Cantor family had basically built Lubbock from the ground up. House schools, industrial warehouses, and government buildings were all built by Cantor's hands.

To this day, not a person in Lubbock knows the Cantor name. Many people will not even look at a house if it hasn’t touched Cantor's hands.

His family has built up a lot of goodwill with the people of Lubbock. Thanks to that goodwill, Isaac can get away with so many things.

Anything that could be considered “youthful fun” could be brushed aside.

As long as Isaac didn’t commit any serious crimes, like drugs or permanently harming someone, then everything else could be dealt with by lighter punishments. While his family wasn’t going to let him rot in prison, they also weren't gonna let him get away scot-free.

By their logic, he would be okay if he stayed in school and out of prison.

“ It is because of your grandfather that you can enjoy your privileges. But that is over now.” Reaching into her desk, Mrs. Dion pulled out another folder.

She handed his mom the folder and told her, “ In this folder are the emails between me and five other high schools in Lubbock. They have been in touch with me ever since Isaac’s first year and have inquired about his academic progress as well as his general behavior.”

“ I have not lied to these schools, nor have I led them astray in my words with them.” She told them.

His mom didn’t even open the folder or care what was written in it. She knew what her son was like.

“ What does that have to do with anything.” She said.

“ The point, Mrs. Cantor, is that over the years, Isaac's behavior has worried many of these schools; many of them are not willing to put up with his behavior, and many are not able to.” Mrs Dion turned to his mom.

“ Because, while he is a bright and talented child, Isaac is a very poor student. He refuses to listen to his teachers, constantly creates distractions as a personal joke, and, as of today, has caused over fifty kids to be sent to the hospital.”

As Mrs. Dion spoke, the words seemed to come out faster. The words were pouring out of her mouth like a river finally breaking free of its damn. She was letting go of three years of anxiety.

“ And, forgetting the thousands of dollars of property damage and the hours of additional time and money that he has cost this school cleaning up after his shenanigans that he so readily causes. Isaac does not seem to be sorry for any of it; he seems to thrive on this kind of mischief, and it is time for it to end!” Mrs. Dion shouted her last words into their face.

At this point, Mrs. Dion was already standing on her feet, having stood up somewhere in the middle of her speech, when her emotions started heating up.

This was a surreal experience for Isaac. For the first time since he’d been here, Mrs. Dion had lost control over herself and yelled at a family. Over the three years since he’d been here, Mrs. Dion had always been the picture-perfect version of calm, never raising her voice at even the toughest of students.

But today, she was standing over his parents, towering over them red-faced and breathing heavily. Her feelings were coming out after holding them in for so long, and it didn’t look like she was trying to hold them in any longer.

His mom was not far behind her; she was still sitting down, but at any moment, she was going to pop off. She couldn’t stand somebody talking down to her and her family. Especially when what they are saying is not true at all

All of those instances that she had mentioned were all paid for by their family. The school paid nothing to the families or the teachers. And why did the Cantor family do that? Because while it might be a surprise for some people, Isaac was not the worst person to come out of their family.

The Cantor family is famous for its work in Lubbock, but they are also known for being the craziest family in Lubbock. And this isn’t something new. Before Jaime ever set foot on American soil, the Cantor family had been a family of troublemakers.

So, Isaac's behavior was not surprising to them. Every Cantor who has ever walked these halls has acted the same way, sometimes worse than Isaac.

Soffia’s Tia was even famous for planting a paint bomb in the boy's locker room when she was in high school. The explosion resulted in the entire football team being sent to the hospital with broken bones and covered in pink paint.

But no matter how bad the mess was, the family always made sure to be there to clean up afterward. Nothing was ever so bad that they couldn’t fix it.

The kids knew how far they could go. They never did anything that time couldn’t heal, and they were always punished when they got caught.

There was a reason that they were no longer willing to take on Isaac, and Soffia was starting to suspect why.

On the other hand, Patrick felt the exact opposite of his wife. He was feeling embarrassed. He was so ashamed that he couldn't even look at Mrs. Dion in the eye.

Patrick had married into the Cantor family. He wasn’t born into it like his wife; he didn’t have the family's special brand of crazy. And he certainly didn’t think this was okay like his wife did.

People who married into the family eventually came around to the family's way of thinking, but not Patrick. Patrick was different from everyone else in the family; at times like today, that difference reared its head.

Patrick had no idea what he was getting into when he married Soffia. He was originally from New Hampshire, living there as an only child with his parents by the sea. He wasn’t the brightest kid, so college always seemed like an impossibility to him.

So when he got a full-ride scholarship to Texas Tech, he didn't even stop to pack his bags before he made his way to Texas.

Of course, he had heard all about the family when he moved to Lubbock, but he assumed that they were rumors or, at the very least, stories blown way out of proportion.

So when he first saw Soffia, he didn’t even think about her family. It was love at first sight for him. He didn’t care that she got into fights or interrupting the professors with silly jokes that no one laughed at.

He just loved the way that she laughed or how she was always smiling no matter what happened. Her smile lit up his world.

No matter where she went, his eyes followed her. Something about the way she walked, about how confident she was in herself, stuck to Patrick.

At the time, he had no idea who she was; he only knew that he wanted to be with her. Too embarrassed to even approach her, he settled for sending her letters at school, slipping them into her lockers when he thought no one was looking.

Of course, she knew who sent it as soon as she opened the first letter. It wasn’t hard when he was the only boy on campus who would even look at her. Everyone else was too scared to even want to be friends with her because of her family, so meeting someone who wasn’t was like a miracle.

Not wanting to scare him off, she was content to let him have his secret as she waited patiently for his next letter.

Over time, as his confidence gradually increased, he eventually introduced himself to Soffia. Talking to her for the first time was the most magical thing to ever happen to him.

He even got her to go on a date with him; he couldn’t believe it. He was so happy that he almost forgot to pick her up for the movies.

After that, it was no time before they were married and living in a two-story house built by her family. He didn’t even care that he was the one taking her name. It didn’t even matter that his parents disapproved.

They were happy and ready to start a family together. He had finally got the girl of his dreams, and nothing could ruin that.

Then Patrick got to really know the Cantor family. Before, he had only talked to Soffia, and any interaction with her family was kept to an all-time low because she was scared that they might scare him off.

But once they were married, there was nowhere else to hide them. He didn’t have many friends, and those he did have were too scared to get close to the Cantor.

The only person he could talk to was his wife, so he followed when she went to see her family. That was when he truly learned who the Cantor were.

They were loud, crazy, idiotic, and wild people who did outrageous things for laughs. Most of the horror stories that he heard about the family didn’t do them any justice. However, they acted out in public they were a hundred times worse when they were around family.

They would start fights for no reason, trash the house, and then go right back to whatever they were doing before. They would say some of the most horrible things to one another and treat it like it was all a big joke.

One time, they were going to celebrate Soffia’s grandma’s 65th birthday, and when they showed up, he found most of the adults sitting and drinking while their kids started a no-holds-barred wrestling match in the backyard.

And Soffia’s grandma was right in the middle of it all, wrestling each one of her great-grandkids to the ground.

He loved his wife; he truly did. But when it came to the way that she and her family acted, he couldn't feel farther from her; it was like they lived in two different worlds.

Patrick was kind and gentle; he could never even imagine doing or saying the things his wife’s family do and said.

He felt like he was trapped, drowning in an ocean of crazy people and drunken brawls.

For years, Patrick prayed that his children wouldn’t end up like his wife’s family. That, maybe, he could teach them to be better.

But it was no use; the Cantor blood was too strong for hopes and prayers.

While his two daughters are not as wild, his son is the worst. He takes after the worst aspects of his wife’s family and barely any of the good.

And now it seems that his behavior has finally caught up with them. His son has finally crossed the line.

What were they going to do? What would Isaac do if no school in Lubbock accepted him? He can’t progress in life if he doesn’t go to school, and Soffia could never move to another city.

They would have to ship him off to boarding school.

And what if he does the same thing again? How many schools would he have to be kicked out of before he learned to be better? Would they have to just homeschool him?

What would everyone think? Them having a son who couldn’t even be accepted into highschool.

What would his parents think?

And Isaac, what was he doing while his parents worried about his future?

He was smiling, thinking about what would be for dinner, and did not care at all about what his principal was saying.

Isaac didn’t think any of this mattered. So what if the schools wouldn’t accept him? He could go to plenty of other schools, and if not, well, oh well.

Either way, everything was going to be fine. Whatever happened, Isaac knew that he was going to be okay. The world will keep on spinning, and Isaac will still be Isaac.

He was sad about not going to high school with Luci. It would have been fun, and being with her would have made high school a little more bearable.

Besides, if high school were just going to be the same as middle school, Isaac would rather not go at all. It was either that or he was going to put someone's head through a wall the next time he wanted to have fun.

It would be pretty funny to see anyway, them with their head in a wall, trying to pull it out as their feet dangled in the air.

That made him chuckle just thinking about it.

You know what? He was going to do that anyway. Now, all he needed was a guy’s head to shove into a wall; he wondered where Tanner slinked off to.

Uh oh, Isaac must have chuckled out loud because everyone was looking at him now: Mrs. Dion, his mom, and his dad.

“ Mr. Cantor, do you think this is funny.” Mrs. Dion questioned.

“ No, Ma’am.” Isaac replaid. “ Was just thinking about something else.”

“ I hoped you would take this more seriously, Mr. Cantor; this is about your future.” Mrs. Dion was starting to get angry again. Her face was already starting to get a little red. If Isaac didn’t answer with what she wanted, she was going to blow again.

But Isaac was bored now; he had other things to do than listen to someone he was never going to see again. So, looking up at her, the only thing that Isaac could say, with a giant smile, was.

“ I understand, ma’am. Can I go now?”

Now, where was Tanner? He had to catch him before he left. His head wasn’t going into a wall by itself.