Urgh!

"Get out of the way."

Alex cried for the umpteenth time, as she maneuvered through a wave of junior students in the hall-way - on her way to the press club common room.

Today hadn't been exactly been as she had pictured it.

In fact, it had been frustrating so far. The day had started on a somber note when she and her brother's ride to school were accosted in a traffic grid-lock on a high-way - thus inciting her lateness on the assembly today. The worst thing was that the school thought she was intentionally late, so as to enter dramatically. But the truth was that she didn't care for such frivolities.

All this wouldn't have happened if her all-knowing mom didn't object to her taking the chopper to school.

"Alex dear, you really don't have to draw that kind of attention to yourself." Her mom said as she poured milk into her glass on the kitchen counter during breakfast. After setting the jug down; she peered into her eyes with that you-know-you're-not-gonna-have-your-way gaze. "It's only high school."

Well, that was how she got stuck in traffic with a pest for a brother. Joey probably hadn't noticed there was traffic because he was so engrossed in the Donald Trump book he was reading.

Only God knew what he saw in the man!

In the morning, he had also being a major buzz-kill - when he informed mom of what happened the last time she rode the chopper to school. Well, that day wasn't exactly a day she loved to remember and she admitted that she wasn't exactly nice but in her defense the staff in the school was being a tad bit obnoxious also. Of course, Joey had exaggerated the details but that didn't stop him from having his way.

After all he was mom's favorite.

Most times she dreaded the fact that she had a twin brother who opposed her most of the time. But at least they weren't identical twins or the same gender or something

If they were, she would have had no other choice than to slit his throat in his sleep.

The absence of her ever-doting dad added to her misery. If he wasn't away for a business function in Europe at the moment; she would have definitely had her way in the morning.

Don't let this faze you Alex.

Exhaling confidently - she strode into the common room finally deciding to put the happenings of the day so far, out of her mind so it wouldn't impair her from having a great day. As usual the atmosphere of the room was as lively.

The common room had the same setting of that of the school hall - a moderately high podium upfront and three columns of chairs situated at the other end of the room. As she walked in, she could hear whispers and murmurs behind her but she refused to pay attention to it.

Castle students would always be Castle students.

The unease that enveloped her, when she walked up to her usual spot in the middle column and the fourth row wasn't a feeling one should experience in a club they had been a member of - for more than three years.

This could never feel like home.

Of course, she had been an active member ever since the 7th grade in fact - but a friend was something she didn't see herself attributing to any individual in the room. It wasn't because she behaved with unnecessary arrogance. No it was definitely the way people pictured her character to be. She of course mingled with her club-mates when the need arose probably pertaining to a club project or the likes. Levity was something she used exclusively, when present matters and predicaments arose and besides Castle students didn't exactly behave like people who deserved respect.

Oh, God!

She tore her gaze from some freaks by her left muddled in a group, all flashing and twinkling their teeth at her.

What nerve.

She couldn't really wait to get this meeting over with.

"This seat taken?"

A voice came from her right, causing her to spin around in surprise. Relief flooded her when she looked up and saw it was only Marc.

To think she would be so happy to see someone like him.

Marc wasn't exactly a friendly or pleasant person, but at this point she was so pleased to see him and to share a seat with him.

It would definitely keep those freaks at bay.

"Of course not." she replied, forcing a grin. After taking his seat; she could feel Marc's gaze lingering all over her body.

A query was definitely in the making.

"Melancholy is inscribed all over your face." Came the much expected query. Like she knew and everyone else in the school also, Marc wasn't someone who bothered himself with the welfare of his mates -in fact he was so particular about their personal vices and short-comings, so it was so atypical of him to sound concerned or to query about her moody state.

Probably he was going to digress at some point.

One other annoying trait about Marc was his choice of words. His family was of Britain's descent so he always spoke like he lived in the stone-age era with vintage and ambiguous English. At first, they all thought it was a ploy plotted by him to piss everyone off but as time progressed they all realize he couldn't actually speak any other way. As the years passed, it became worse as his English waxed even stronger and it became more tasking for people to follow what he meant. At some point people started to include a dictionary in their back-pack in emergencies of Marc speeches.

Well, those were the ones who cared about what he had to say. People like her just ignored him totally.

"I don't see any reason why I should be particularly cheerful." she replied, without turning to face him; her gaze still transfixed on the podium.

As expected, he wasn't done. He sat up in his seat, and cracked the stiffness in his knuckles. "That's no concrete reason as to why anyone should be sober. I am informed that in some moments we would be recipients of some sort of scrutiny."

After processing the words in her head and replaying it, she finally got the hang of it.

"Oh, and what would have caused that?" She hissed and gritted her teeth, more than ready to knock him out of his chair if he spoke in fables again. A disconcerting look preceded his much un-anticipated reply.

"Well, we shan't have to tarry for long before we discover said enquiry." He replied, with something indiscernible twinkling his eyes; and then right at that moment, Mr. Gordon the head of the press-club walked in, heading straight for the podium, hands locked into his pants pockets and his gaze setting the ground beneath ablaze.

Someone is in a great mood today.

Mr. Gordon was one of the founding staff of the school and therefore was afforded a huge amount of respect from the students and the administration alike. He was generally an easy going person with a bald-head that defied the laws of natural growth. The press-club was usually subject to his many fallacies - of how he had so much hair in the past and how girls worshipped him as a result of his good-looks. In fact there was scarcely a time when he wasn't in a good mood, but she knew and just like everyone else did that today was one of those exceptions.

Looks like the frustration is going around.

"Good morning." Mr. Gordon began his speech with a very plain voice void of emotion - inciting dead silence over the room. Everyone including her could sense that perhaps a scolding was inevitable. It was just like Marc had said earlier.
.
"Good, now that I have your attention." He paused, advancing towards the right hand corner of the podium and dragging out a chair.

Ok, that's new.

The press club head was one who loved to move around the large room, gesturing and referencing to people as he went about his address; so his action of pulling out a chair wasn't exactly a good foreboding. As she returned her attention back to the ongoing speech; she felt a knuckle-like structure brush her left thigh. Impulse would have demanded for her to give Marc a violent slap but since he was gay, she investigated just to be sure.

It was only her bag.

"I am not going to commence a speech on how brilliant this club was this past session, like it's done all the time in virtually all clubs at the start of every new session to inspire students - even if they performed woefully." Mr. Gordon's legs were crossed now and his gaze was scanning the entire room. "Truth be told, Majority of the staff have employed said method and what good has it brought them? I mean - if it had actually worked, then they wouldn't have to repeat the same action over and over again at the start of every session."

Mr. Gordon paused when his sight came across a junior who was stealthily licking a cone of ice-cream. On a reflex, the junior swallowed it all at once but due to the unusual large size of the cone - a violent cough followed his action. It was a really hilarious sight to behold, but no one in the room laughed as they all seemed to grasp the gravity of the speech been given.

"I am someone who believes that other measures could be implored, to persuade students in the right direction and in the case of Castle's press club - flattery is not the case. This particular situation calls for intense criticism and scrutiny. Tell me; do the great minds, the scientists, the inventors. Did they succeed on the inspiration derived from how good their failures were, no. It was on how bad their failures were."

Foot-ballers, are more determined to triumph over teams who had previously broken them. Arguments may arise that vengeance eventually leads to oblivion and is not a good tool for inspiration, but I tell you it isn't the outcome that matters. It is the drive, the thirst, the rage that it grants the defeated and gives them something worth fighting for. Winning or losing now depends on the individual's ability to channel that rush into something productive, something successful."

What I am saying in essence is that we need to be productive, we need to be functional because I don't know about you but as for me I'm tired. I'm tired of students walking in the hallway talking about everything except the school's paper, I'm tired of throwing out old issues of the school's paper when it is due to replace them - because no one purchased the old ones, I'm tired of the school's paper being the most dominant thing in the trash even ranking higher than the wrappers of snacks."

Hahaha.

I am tired of making new issues knowing that the same fate is lurking in the shadows. I am tired of students making enquiries about stuff clearly stated in the headlines of the school's paper. I am tired of parents and guardians walking about on open days, questioning the school's authority on why there isn't a press club. If we the press club responsible for making stuff and people known to the school; are not even known ourselves then what are we?"

Oh, that makes sense.

The memory of what Alex saw go down in the morning, briefly flashed in her mind. She could remember clearly what transpired in the reception earlier on her way to the assembly. At the base of the stairs - she spotted the principal having quite the talk with Mr. Gordon. Shelby's mom was an easy going person and hardly used harsh tones when referring to her staff but it looked like she made an exception in the morning.

Before the school vacated for summer break, a couple of months ago; some rumors were going about Mr. Gordon's time at Castle. Apparently the administration had set up the notion of retrenching him because of his many shortcomings mostly because of his age - but they had only been merciful because everyone knew Mr. Gordon didn't have much in the way of money and family also.

"The press club has to emerge from its state of oblivion to evolve into something glorious, something epic, and something worthy to be called a press club. If people don't read the paper because our articles are clichéd, stereotypical and appalling then it's our job to combat this threat and that's why our new session resolution is very simple and straight forward."

Oh, no!

Usually when a teacher said something was 'simple and straight-forward' it only implied that the task would be insurmountable and heavily tasking.

"The resolution is for every member of the press club, to write a very compelling story be it fictitious or real but one that would be enthralling and will demand interest. After that action - he or she would take the story to at least fifteen students of the school, who will read the book and must give it positive reviews."

The hell!

The request sparked up vocal protests instantly. Alex also was baffled with the demands of Mr. Gordon.

What high school student was going to sit around, to review some story written by another high school student meant for a school paper some didn't even know existed?

It was the embodiment of sheer stupidity.

"Order," Mr. Gordon roared into the audio system, as he sprung up to his feet and descended from the podium. "Voice your protests like literates."

A junior in the front row on the middle column, raised his hand up and after given the green-light by Mr. Gordon, he queried. "But sir, what if no one expresses interest or refuses to review the story."

Mr. Gordon scoffed. "Well, I guess it's now up to you to use your initiative to persuade people into reviewing your materials."

The junior exhaled, getting on his feet. "But sir, what if there is nothing you could say that would persuade them, maybe we could slim down the number to a more-"

"I want to believe that a true fascinating story would demand the interest of students," Mr. Gordon cut in, with a much harsher and louder tone. "Make them really entertaining and filled with thrills."

"Sir you do not know-" The junior started once more.

"Please I believe I have made myself pretty clear. Everyone has to meet the requirements, any other questions?"

Oh there is.

Setting her bag down on her chair, Alex rose to her feet. "Sir, what if we fail to meet this requirement?"

She thought she could see his fists clenching. "Then, I'm sorry to say that such people would be evicted from the club."

Oh you got to be kidding me.

What sort of a system was that? Evicting people from their clubs! What about people like her that had devoted their whole stay in the school so far to the club? For the first time she felt sympathy for the other club members.

Who the hell did he think he was? A monarch?

"Sir, with all due respect I think that would be inappropriate and over stepping." Alex continued, raising her voice also. "I don't think any club leader was given the mantle or jurisdiction to evict members from clubs. The sole role would be to mentor the students towards achieving the set goal of the club."

And then he exploded.

Mr. Gordon laughed despicably, folding his arms in a confronting manner. "I don't think I have to answer to you before I can make decisions in my club."

"Sir it's not your club it's the school's-"

"How dare you!"

Uh-oh.

"Who are you to speak to me in such tone?" Mr. Gordon was striding over to her now; with a threatening stare. "What part did the school play in setting up this club? Was it the school who pitched the idea to the board? Or was it the school that provided much needed funds for club projects?"

Yo, calm down!

Alex swallowed, realizing her wrong. "Sir I didn't mean any dis-"

"Young lady, do not let me make an example of you. You think I'm like other staff in the school that would take thrash from you - just because your folks are a part of the board and provide funds for the school?"

Their argument had peaked and was drawing attention from the whole floor - it seemed as members of other clubs gathered round the entrance, trying to make out what was going on.

"Sir, I'd rather not bring my folks into this, this topic has nothing to do with them." Alex replied firmly.

"They have everything to do with it. If only, they had invested more time into teaching you manners - probably you wouldn't have turned out so bad."

That does it.

"You are crossing a line and you definitely do not have the right to say my parents are doing a bad job."

She had had enough, who the hell did he think he was? Her parents were the reason he wasn't out on the streets yet, homeless and hungry.

"You tell me that I'm crossing a line, you tell me-" His admonition ceased as the Principal walked into the room unexpectedly, wearing a big frown.

"What is going on here?" She queried, directing her gaze from Mr. Gordon and Alex with her arms propped on her waist.

"She is the cause of the problem. She spoke to me like we were age-mates without an ounce of respect in her voice."

The principal's stare burrowed into Mr. Gordon's skeptically before she turned to face her. "And Alex what do you have to say for yourself?"

Wiping the sweat spewing on her forehead, she spoke up. "I was only trying to express my view on an issue and he flared up for no feasible reason."

Mr. Gordon shook his head and turned to the Principal. "Can you hear the way she talked now, I flared up for no feasible reason?"

The principal exhaled and continued. "Mr. Gordon you have been a staff in this school for like how long now, a bit over thirty years. If there is any teacher at Castle who should be more experienced in handling situations like this, it should be you but yet - yet you raise your voice so high and roar so loud that visitors in the reception could hear you. What do you want them to say when they eventually leave? That it's norm at Castle for student and staff to exchange insults?"

And just like a deflated balloon, Mr. Gordon's anger subsided.

"And you, in my office." she motioned to Alex before turning to face Mr. Gordon once more. "Mr. Gordon please, do not let this institution regret the decision they made concerning your stay here." She concluded before storming out of the common room.

*****

"So are you nervous?" Andrew asked his friend as they approached the court during club period. He was initially surprised, when Jake informed him of his basket-ball status in his former school and was also immensely pleased that he would be having a class-mate on the team alongside him also.

"Am I wrong to?" Jake returned the question, anxiety enveloping his voice. He understood Jake's fear completely. Studying his friend's face now, he saw the same worried, frightened look he saw on the mirror about a year ago.

"Well my dad always told me, the bigger the fear the greater the drive." He advised, in a bid to reduce Jake's tension.

"Wow," Jake remarked, nodding his head in agreement. "To come up with that line your dad must have suffered this sort of fate too."

"We'll find a way, we always do we would be fine." Pressing his right ear on the doors of the bedroom of his parents, he could hear their discussion closely.

"If I don't get the money in a month's time, they would take everything we own, this house, our belongings, everything!" His dad's voice was shaky and basked in fright.

"We haven't exhausted all our options yet, we could still ask father for assista-" His mom began.

"I am not going to ask your father for a way out of my own predicament, I'm my own man!"

"Well, we do not have any choice. At this rate we would be totally broke in a few months' time."

So it was about this.

"We could still sell some more stuff, we still have the van." Dad's voice came again.

"We can't keep selling away all the stuff we own, what are we going to sell next after that! The house?"

"I see nothing wrong in that, there is only the three of us. The space is more than we can use. We could move into somewhere smaller."

"This house is a family heirloom passed down to your dad and then to you, it's something that should never be sold. Your father would totally object to it!" His mom's voice was loud now, in protest.

"Well father isn't exactly here right now is he? I never asked for his house and I certainly didn't ask for all these debt he left behind either."

Then his mom said again, in a pacifying tone. "I'm sorry dear I didn't mean to, it's not your fault but for the sake of Andrew, for the sake of our son - let's ask my dad for assistance, so our son wouldn't have to suffer this sort of fate too."

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Well i promised regular updates didn't i? What do you think about the dark tone of this chapter. Do not forget to express your thoughts and to tap that star also. Thank You!