Danielli’s office

I watched Waddlehead and Danielli from behind as I followed them back into the school. Waddlehead was pointing to his watch and shaking his head, Danielli was doing a lot of nodding. They shook hands and turned in my direction. Waddlehead made laser-like contact, zapped me with one of the best teacher death stares of all time and hissed, Monday!

Instantly Monday was no longer a day of the week but the launch day of an attack.

I followed Danielli through the senior quad over to his office. This was not going to be good.

It’s not that I like being in trouble. I mean, what difference does it make if your shirt’s not tucked in or you have gel in your hair? It’s not exactly helping the pursuit of world peace, is it? But the past few months had been different. I had well and truly moved on from “minor misdemeanors” and was heading for the expulsion end of the scale. The afterglow of the moon was fading fast.

William, come in, please.

The air instantly cooled in Danielli’s office. The more trouble you were in the colder it was. I don’t know how he did it, but it got me every time. Right at that moment, the mercury was around one degree and falling.

Danielli stood there silently, running his hand through his hair. He was taking big breaths and letting them out really slowly. I figured it was best if I didn’t look in his direction just yet.

The Danielli domain was more like an old library than an office. It was jam-packed with folders, books and magazines all about the same thing: ancient Greece. And if that wasn’t enough, every single bit of wall space was plastered with pictures of old Greek guys. Not old guys like some Greek kid’s grandfather, I mean really old famous guys who came from ancient Greece. I didn’t know exactly who they were, but every time I was in Danielli’s office I would read the same quotes about democracy and everybody having rights. Which was pretty funny considering every time I was in there I was trying to defend my own rights. Apparently they didn’t count.

There was one particular guy who sat on top of Danielli’s filing cabinet. He was made of cement and had no arms. The story goes that six or seven years ago one of the Year 12 boys stole it during muck-up day. Then, every day after that, Danielli received ransom notes and photographs warning that if he didn’t meet the demands, the Greek guy was going to be smashed to pieces and poured into some Greek family’s entertainment area somewhere in Marrickville. Everyone thought it was pretty funny. The statue even had his own Web site—until Waddlehead got involved, that is. It turned out that Danielli had been awarded the statue from a uni in Greece for some type of special study. Waddlehead said it was the “despicable action of an ignoramus who had forfeited his right to attend the college.” Before one of Waddlehead’s famous inquisitions fired up, the kid turned himself in. He was Danielli’s top Ancient History Extension student, who anyone with half a brain could have seen was just having a laugh. Waddlehead, however, was all for expelling him before he could sit his Higher School Certificate. Parents were up in arms and kids were talking about protesting. Somehow Danielli calmed everyone down. No one had touched the statue since. But I got the impression that this time around no matter what Danielli said to Waddlehead, he wasn’t going to be able to save me.

I heard a noise coming from the other side of the desk. I knew that was my signal to look up. I attempted to make eye contact, but all I could do was stare across the desk at the photo of Danielli, his wife and their three kids.

Danielli began to speak, shaking his head as he flicked through my ever-expanding file.

I’m going to have to ring your mother, Will. You leave me no choice. I spoke with her just last week to comment on some small improvements you were making. She is going to be so disappointed….

Forget disappointed, Mum will be majorly, majorly mad.

Sit down, Will.

I began to list in my head the stuff I’d been involved in over the past couple of months. Busted for smoking in the toilets. But the point was I wasn’t smoking. I know that’s what everyone says but this time it was true. I mean, I had tried it a couple of times but I worried too much about my fitness level for soccer to smoke seriously. That time in the toilets I was truly the innocent bystander, catching up on the latest weekend “who did what” when Deputy Waddlehead walked in. Guilt by association. They were doing a crackdown and I copped a suspension with the real smokers. Mum eventually believed me, but only after she threatened to do what her mum did to her and make me smoke three cigarettes in a row. I pointed out that they had laws against that these days. She told me to be quiet and I was grounded for a month.

What else was there? They’d busted me for jigging but I don’t reckon that was fully my fault either. One of the Year 12 guys who drove was able to leave after recess and he offered me a lift, so I took him up on it. I honestly didn’t think anyone would notice. I got home, watched some telly and then spent most of my time on the guitar. My argument: it wasn’t as if I was out terrorizing nanas or anything. So in the scheme of things it shouldn’t have been that big a deal, although at the time Mum and Danielli didn’t agree. Then there was the usual wrong haircut, no blazer, no tie stuff. But nothing that I thought was a really big deal. There was something else, though … I know there was something else … what was it?

How many times have you been called to this office in the past six months?

I shrugged. That’s what I was trying to figure out.

I’ll tell you. Six times in the past six months and this makes the seventh. Smoking …

But, sir …

Listen! Smoking, truancy, failure to meet deadlines in Modern History, underachievement in mathematics, repeated uniform and hair offenses, including that outrageous hair color, water-bombing the girls at the bus stop …

That’s the one I forgot about, the water bombs! Even though that was definitely my fault, Jock and Tim were in it as well, it was just that they didn’t get busted.

I know things haven’t been easy for you over the past six months, and we have tried to make concessions, but you have pushed it too far this time. Really, Will, indecent exposure! Mrs. Young said the phones haven’t stopped ringing with anxious members of the public alerting the school to a flasher on school grounds!

I bit the insides of my cheeks, trying so hard not to crack up. I couldn’t help it.

Danielli’s chair bounced off the wall as he stood.

You think this is funny?

I looked away. No, sir.

You very nearly single-handedly created a riot. Did you stop to think what would have happened if anyone had been seriously hurt?

But they weren’t.

No, sir.

He picked up my file and waved it in the air.

And as for your academic performance, you continue to underachieve. This is Year Eleven, it’s time to consolidate and move out from the rest of the pack. You want to secure a good University Admissions Index, don’t you?

I shrugged again.

Well, don’t you, Will?

Yes, sir.

The truth was I didn’t have any idea what I wanted to do, let alone whether I needed a UAI.

Do you care?

I stared straight back at Danielli’s family photograph.

Will? Look at me, please. Do you care? Honestly?

I thought about how I should answer. He said honestly, but the problem is they never want to hear honestly. I looked up at him.

Honestly, sir?

Of course honestly, Will.

Not really, sir.

Mr. Danielli shifted his gaze to the papers on his desk and didn’t speak. He looked disappointed more than annoyed. See, they’re the ones who can’t handle the truth. Why did he ask in the first place if he didn’t want to hear it?

Well, you know there will be severe consequences for your actions today.

Yes, sir.

OK, Will. He released a sigh that filled the entire office. An interview has been scheduled for you at three-thirty Monday afternoon with myself and Mr. Waverton. Given her present circumstances, we will not require your mother to attend; however, I will be speaking to her by phone. If Mr. Waverton decides on the most severe form of punishment, she will of course need to be called in.

He looked up from his papers. I’ll leave it up to you whether you tell her over the weekend.

I hate it when teachers do that. Forty-eight hours of sick-in-your-gut guilt trip and they bloody well know it!

You do know that this latest escapade, combined with the other serious incidents you have been involved with, could mean permanent exclusion from the college?

I said nothing.

It is a very real and serious consideration.

Again nothing. He eyeballed me directly.

Do you have any idea how serious this actually is, Will?

Yes, sir.

He continued to stare and then his face crumpled into a frown. He sighed and his voice softened.

Will, you are better than this, and the real shame of it is that you have such leadership potential. You’re well liked among the of the boys, especially the ones who get a hard time. I know you’ve always been a bit of a larrikin, but you used to know when to stop. Now …

What the hell was I meant to say to that? Isn’t a guy allowed to have one bad year?

He sighed again, disappointed there was no reply. You’ve let a lot of people down, William.

I was sorry I’d let him down; I felt even worse about Mum. All around I was feeling like crap. But I didn’t know what else to say so I relied on the old standby.

Sorry, sir.

Yes, Will, so am I.