Emma Argues With Principal Figgins Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Emma Hargrove? Principal wants to see you.” Sarah mouthed “What the fuck?” as Emma stood on shaky legs and followed. Richard Caldwell was waiting in the principal’s office like he owned it—tall, silver-haired, suit sharper than any teacher’s. Blake sat in the chair beside him, jaw locked, eyes stormy. The principal looked uncomfortable behind his desk.

“What do you mean, Mr. Principal?” “I mean no harm, Ms. Witts. I just want you to understand why I come up with my decision.” “There is no need for Ms. Witts to be present here. “ “To tell you, Ms. Witts, it is your words against the witnesses'. You must be held accountable for your actions.” What? Me? How about Emma? “I will take responsibility for my actions, but how about Emma?” “The school administration will not reprimand Ms. Mills. It turns out that it was you who attacked first, even though she hurt you too.”

he finally let out a piece of his mind. “Senior Emma!” Al-ameen called as he stood up. His height wouldn’t let him see Emmanuel due to the couple of students between them. “Better leave them alone. They would be surprised when she wins. Jealous people!” “It’s okay!” Perfect said loudly, feeling irritated that they had to start debating Ayo’s fate. They had made her lose count of how many questions Ayo got correctly. She faced Emmanuel. “Doyou know how many questions she had answered right?”

"So what if they are your principal's! We can't trust them! Who knows what they came here for!" Catty and Erica try convincing both Ethel and Reno. "You are wasting your strength kid! Drop that sword and hear us out!" Principal Rose shouted. It was useless; Ethel was not the type to give up that easily. Especially when it comes to a stranger, he would never give up interrogating that easily. "Let's negotiate wisely kid! Or we will draw our swords too!" The guard reached his hands for his sword. Seeing him, Melissa walked forth and stood next to Ethel and Reno, holding her sword.

At the same time, Emma opened the mental connection and uttered, "Let's show them who we are, Margie!" "But I don't excel at fight, Em. You might get hurt." I tried to have a negotiation with her. Emma resisted, "Getting hurt or even died because defending our own dignity is much better than staying silent and let their mock hit so hard. That's very embarassing!" Along with her saying, she took control over my body and came out as she showed her sharp canines. "Fight until our last bones!" She said in her monstrous voice. End of pov -**-

Emma laughed at how such a little thing, like a car ride from a principal, could make her little girl so excited. “It’s because the truck is having engine trouble, sweetie. Right, Mr. D’Angelo?” She gave him a warning glance and he agreed. “Now buckle up.” One little white lie won’t hurt. Emma made a concerted effort during the ride home to act normal, and thanked God her principal had followed her lead.

**Two weeks later** The second last Monday of Arielle’s contracted time in PGI proved to be a difficult one. Emma and Sophia had managed to collate some ‘evidence’ against Arielle and were determined to push her to the abyss. As soon as lunch break started, the main LCDs on the reception hall and the cafeteria blew up. A video, composed of a few small clips strung together, was played in a loop. Emma and Arielle were having an altercation in the break room that ended with Emma dumping hot coffee on Arielle. Arielle left the office without informing anyone.

Emma is practically vibrating with joy. The principal decides not to unpack the Interpol comment. Brave of her. “Do you practice healthy conflict resolution strategies around children?” “I rarely punch people in front of kids. Is that what you mean?” Libby groans. “MATTEO.” Emma beams. “I like him.” The principal rubs her temples. “Okay… and do you model stable romantic relationships?” “We’re in love,” I say again, because apparently I have become possessed. The principal smiles warmly. “That’s beautiful. How long have you two been together?”

And she wasn’t about to let some rich woman—who had everything handed to her—look down on her. “Please!” the principal spoke just in time, right as Calla was about to snap back. “This isn’t helping anyone.” She raised her hands as if to calm the air in the room, her voice trying to sound firm but almost pleading at the same time. Calla let out a sharp sigh through her teeth, her fingers digging into her hair. She shut her eyes for two seconds, nodding in agreement. This back-and-forth argument won't solve the issue at hand now.

“There’s been a… situation involving Emma and Mason.” Brielle closed her eyes. “Are they hurt?” “No, no,” the woman said quickly. “No injuries. Just… feelings.” Of course it was feelings. “I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Brielle said, already reaching for her purse. The Scene of the Crime Emma sat stiffly in a plastic chair outside the principal’s office, arms crossed, chin lifted in defiance. Mason sat beside her, slouched low, staring at his sneakers with exaggerated innocence. Between them sat the hoodie.