Mr. Hainsworth Verdict

Chapter 3

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Kyle lay on the ground, feeling the weight of his defeat pressing down on him. The crowd had mostly dispersed, but their whispers still rang in his ears like the echoes of his shame. His face throbbed from where Stephen had stomped on him, and every attempt to stand up was met with searing pain in his ribs. He gritted his teeth, refusing to let the tears sting his eyes. He wouldn't cry. Not here, not in front of them.

"Look at him," someone muttered from the distance. "He looks so pathetic."

"Serves him right for trying to punch Stephen," another added. "I would say he brought it on himself."

Kyle's fists clenched as he tried to push himself up again, but his body betrayed him. His legs wobbled, and he collapsed back onto the cold pavement. Just when he thought the humiliation couldn't get any worse, a familiar voice cut through the murmurs of the students.

"Kyle!" The voice belonged to the director of the school, Mr. Hainsworth, a tall, slim man in his late fifties. With a stern expression, he strode over, knitting his eyes on the Kyle figure on the ground. The wail of how the director had called Kyle had attracted more people to the scene, even those who were trying to dispatch the scene and those that had left, and Stephen and Tara were no exception as they strode back to the spot where they had left Kyle to watch the school's director's interaction with Kyle.

The director's now standing a few steps away from where Kyle was, moving his eyes between Kyle, who was still groaning on the ground, and Stephen, standing smugly nearby. But instead of helping Kyle up, Mr. Hainsworth's face twisted into a sickening smile as he turned toward Stephen.

"Stephen," Mr. Hainsworth began. He spoke with a forced warmth to his voice, "I heard what happened here. Are you alright? I hope you weren't injured by this." He waved dismissively in Kyle's direction, as if Kyle were nothing more than a nuisance.

Stephen smirked, wiping his still-bloody lip. "I am fine, Mr. Hainsworth. It's just unfortunate that some people don't know their place."

Kyle's blood boiled, but he remained silent. His body still ached too much to protest, and he knew better than to expect fairness from someone like Mr. Hainsworth. After all, Stephen's father was one of the school's biggest sponsors. Money speaks, and it screamed louder than the truth ever could.

"I have been quite informed of how the incident had played out," Mr. Hainsworth said, glancing briefly at Kyle with a disdainful look. "Kyle here attacked Stephen unprovoked. It's a shame when students like you resort to violence because they can't control their emotions."

Kyle opened his mouth to argue, but the words died in his throat. What was the point? No one would believe him. He was nothing compared to Stephen and his family influence.

"Of course, you should understand, Kyle," Mr. Hainsworth continued, his voice icy now as he turned back to him, "that this kind of behavior is unacceptable in our school. We pride ourselves on discipline and respect, two things you seem to lack. As of now, you are suspended from the school for a month. This would serve as a lesson to other students that such an act of indiscipline is not tolerated in this school." The director moved his hand as he spoke with the intention of reinforcing to every student watching that he was making a point.

Meanwhile, the world seemed to stop for Kyle. Suspended? For defending himself? He struggled to his feet, biting back the sharp pain on his side as he faced the director. "But I didn't—"

"Enough!" The director barked, his voice cutting through Kyle's protest. "I don't want to hear any excuses. Stephen here has already explained what happened, and I believe him. You are lucky you were only suspended and not expelled from the school for your actions. Now leave the premises immediately." The director left the instant he had passed his judgment on Kyle.

Kyle's mouth clamped shut, his heart racing as he tried to control his anger and take in the humiliation he had just been subjected to yet again. He cast a glance toward Stephen, who was watching the whole exchange with a triumphant smirk. Tara was still standing next to him, her arms crossed as she looked at Kyle with cold indifference.

At this point in his entire existence, Kyle had never felt more alone.

Stephen stepped forward, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Maybe you will learn something from this, Kyle. Like how to behave around people who are better than you."

The bystanders laughed softly at Stephen's words, and Kyle's fists tightened at his sides. He wanted to punch Stephen again, harder this time, but he knew it wouldn't make a difference. The system was rigged against him. Even if he fought back, it would only lead to more punishment.

As Stephen and Tara walked away yet again, Kyle could hear the murmur of the students around him.

"He got what he deserved, going against Stephen Marlowe like that."

"Yeah, did you see how the director handled him? Kyle's an idiot for picking that fight with Stephen."

"I bet he won't show his face here again after this."

Kyle's throat burned as he listened to them. He wanted to shout, to tell them the truth, but what good would it do? No one would listen, even those that had witnessed the entire scene were all siding in Stephen's direction; some were his supporters, some wouldn't talk for fear of what would befall them too, and some were just too scared to say the actual truth. There is no use convincing them otherwise; they had already made up their minds.

The director had sent in two securities to escort Kyle out of the school premises with immediate effect. Kyle pleaded to pick up some of his belongings from the dormitory, and he was escorted to his dormitory.

News they say spread fast as they walked to the dormitory, scrutinizing eyes were following him with hateful comments. Every step he took was heavier than the last. Immediately he got to the front of his room; one of his roommates who was about to go out of their shared room for a lecture saw him.

"Kyle, are you okay? I just heard about what happened between you and Stephen and was about to go in search of you in the school before my lectures begin. Am so sorry."

Kyle opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, one of the security officers spoke first. "You have only two minutes to pick up whatever you want and leave the school premises." Both Kyle and his roommate couldn't say anything further as they shared a brief look. As Kyle entered the room to pick up something, his roommate gave him an apologetic look before he walked off for his lecture, as he was already getting late for his classes. There was nothing he could do anyway to help.

With every step Kyle took toward the exit of the school, the whispers of the students followed him like shadows, dragging him deeper into a pit of despair. He felt suffocated by their judgment, their cruel laughter echoing in his ears. He had lost everything—his dignity, his standing at the school, and Tara. Especially Tara, he loved her and gave her everything she had wanted, even if it meant him going out of his way for her satisfaction.

By the time he reached the gates of the school, his chest was tight with frustration and helplessness. He had no idea what to do next. Everything felt so out of control, like his entire life had spiraled into chaos in just a matter of days.