Guided by a Glow (75)

His demeanor shifted subtly, the hardened lines of authority giving way to a more contemplative expression as he clasped his hand together on the desk. For a fleeting moment, concern flickered in his eyes, a crack in this form he is showing. The room was heavy with silence, the weight of judgment looming over them. Just as Starfania braced herself for the predictable outcome, his voice cut through the tension with a decision neither Becka nor Starfania had anticipated.

" Becka, " he said with deliberate calm, " you will serve detention for the next two weeks. "

The words seemed to echo in the room. Becka's jaw dropped, her eyes wide with disbelief. She stared at him, unable to process what she had just heard. When the reality of his decision finally sunk in, frustration boiled over.

" Why me? " she said, her voice rising in protest. " Why am I the one punished while Starfania gets away? "

 Principal Dexter's expression darkened as he fixed her with a stern gaze. His voice, though measured, carried an unmistakable finality. " Your disrespectful language, both during and after the altercation, cannot be ignored, Actions have consequences, Becka. And your behavior warrants an extra week of detention, effective immediately. " 

Becka's heart raced as she fought to hold back her frustration. 

"It's not fair!" she retorted, crossing her arms defiantly. "Starfania was the one who started it. I was just defending myself." 

Principal Dexter remained unmoved, his lips pressing into a thin line. 

"Your version of events does not change the outcome," he replied evenly, his gaze unwavering. "You could have chosen to handle the situation differently, and you didn't." 

She opened her mouth to argue but then closed it, sensing the futility in her words. The wooden desk loomed before her, a constant reminder of the authority that dictated her fate. 

"Detention means more time to reflect on your choices," he added, his tone softening just a fraction. "I encourage you to use it wisely." 

 With a heavy sigh, Becka sat down in the chair opposite him, a mix of anger and resignation swirling within her. Becka rose abruptly from her chair, her face a storm of conflicting emotions–frustration, disbelief, and indignation. Without uttering another word, she turned on her heel and strode towards the door. The soft shuffle of her shoes against the polished floor was the only sound as the heavy silence followed her departure. For a brief moment, she paused at the doorway, her hand lingering on the handle, as though she might say something more. But she shook her head and exited the office; the door closing behind her with a sharp click that seemed to reverberate in the tense air.