What I did not do

5:43 AM

I went to a private, Christian school for all of my middle and most of my high school years. It was a very small school, the kind where everyone and their mother know each other. And get into each other's business.

Literarlly.

Eighth grade was one of the best years there, not because of a great teacher or whatever (we had terrible teacherS that year, but that is a whole other story....) but it was because you, as a class, were kings of your domain. You were't yet the puny freshmen in the big hallway, you were the KINGS of the middle school hallway. And your classroom was all the way at the end of the hall.

Not sure why, really, but just being at the end of the hallway made us feel AWESOME.

But it is also a year in which a lot of us started questioning the whole 'system'. Society, our place in it, who we were as individuals and this whole church and Jesus thing. It just happens.

One way that we pushed against the system was by swearing. I know, right? You can pull your jawbone back up into place now.

We were bad, let me tell ya.

So, one day we were walking down the hall as a class, coming back from who knows what, following the secretary to our classroom. I really cannot remember where we had been. But not five minutes in the classroom, the secretary now back at her post, did the intercom go off. The VP wanted to see me and another boy in his office.

We got the usual catcalls as we got up and left, which we played out like we were cool because we were getting into trouble. THE SYSTEM IS AGAINST US! blah, blah, blah.

Once alone, as we walked to the office, the other boy and I couldn't figure out what we had done. We got to the office and endured about 20 minutes of a lecture about having clean mouths and vocabulary and why we don't say certain things and why there are rules and punishments against saying certain words when the VP suddenly stopped. I guess the looks on our faces were enough to stop him.

Because we had no idea what he was talking about.

So he asked straight out, "Ms Secretary heard the F word in the hall today and is sure it was one of you two. Did you say the F word?"

We almost burst out laughing. No. Neither one of us had said it. And since they didn't really have any proof we were quite sure we wouldn't get into trouble. The VP left to talk to the Secretary. The other boy looked at me and said he knew who it was: Ms. Secretary's daughter.

Da, da, daaaaaa.

Do we rat her out?

I sure as heck wasn't going to get a week's worth of detentions to save her F'in behind. That was for sure. We decided we would only tell if he asked if we knew who it was.

But he never asked. Maybe Ms. Secretary fessed up to protecting her own daughter? We were excused to class again.

Down the hall the other boy and I held our heads high. Cause we beat the system. Or at least we didn't rat out our classmate. We weren't just kings, we were like those Godfather people in that movie my parents wouldn't let me watch.

We kept it all hush-hush when we got back to class. It was more mysterious that way. Plus, we wouldn't gotten in trouble for disrupting the class. But we let Ms. Secretary's daughter know that we KNEW and that we didn't rat her out. And for that she could repay us one day.

Cause we do something for you, you do something for us. It's all in the family.

Eighth grade was a great year. We were like kings.

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