At work, kid. Welcome to the real world.

God, I hated this office. Every time I'm in here you're greeted to white walls with nothing on them and the world's most miserable woman.

"Look, Sandra, I'm sorry. It's over for you here," I said to the old slug woman in front of you. Sandra Kleipfer is an..... old-year old woman who somehow has lived long enough that even with her award-winning personality, she managed to become the principal of Gronye. "We made a settlement offer, and truth-be-told, I'm surprised we got away with just this little."

This didn't seem to sit well with the hag, who made something of a grunt as she read over the case. "And what was the district's offer?" She's barely comfortable paying anything, she's not going to like this.

I sigh and brace myself for this. "Your offer is to resign and the school district will pay $800000. Any less than that and their lawyer is going to laugh at us, hysterically. I convinced the district and the family to not go after any of your assets or your benefits, but you will be **** into retirement and make a public apology." The moment I said resign she was angry, the moment I mentioned the number? She was terrified. She had friends in the Superintendent's building. I imagine she won't after this. I feel bad for her, but this is ultimately her fault. I adjusted in this uncomfortable chair, typically meant for kids in trouble while Ms. Kleipfer rereads what she already knows. Her life is over. Tears well in her ancient, deep-set eyes. I grab a tissue for her, but the realization is setting in now.

For a little backstory, Hi. I'm Felix. I'm the head legal counsel on retainer for Grondent School District (GSD). Basically, it means my job is to tell the district how to handle settlements, and serve as legal counsel for any of its staff caught in wrongdoing. Now, if "head" legal counsel sounds important, it's not. Much like the witch across from me, I'm only the head legal counsel because the previous head retired at the young age of 87, which makes my financial future cry. Everyone else in the legal department is younger than me (IE: associates) so basically they're the ones who write most of the deals and do most of the actual legwork, while I have to be the face and bearer of bad news in one of the suits my mom bought for me when I graduated from Law school. Here's a tip for you: whenever a company (even a government company) lawyer shows up, it's a bad thing. It means they're there to cover the asses of the people upstairs and lose for them as little money and face as possible. It's scummy work, but I try to do it as ethically as possible. Frankly, teachers don't have the budget to hire lawyers themselves.

Now I know I said I'm the oldest guy in the office, but I'm only 32. And in my tenure of moving back to my hometown to take care of my mom and scrape out a job as a GSD lawyer, I've NEVER seen a school official fuck up as hard as Sandra Kleipfer in front of me has fucked up. I've seen teachers make moves on their students, students **** (usually poorly) teachers, but this one takes the cake. Long story short, a student named Marcus Geralds was on heroin. He was fucking out of it according to the footage I saw and he even decided to fight with another student because he looked at him the wrong way. As Mr. Geralds was escorted to the Principal's office, he assaulted a teacher. IE: Kid's fucked up.

But when he got to the Principal's office, something happened. Ms. Kleipfer was needed in a meeting and **** him to stay put in her office. She completely forgot about him and didn't return to her office that day. He was trapped in there, high as a kite, and at around 9 PM after not being able to contact anyone (she had no phone in her office and confiscated his) this kid decided to jump out her window. I won't go into the details, but he died. So here I am showing Sandra Kleipfer her wrongful **** and criminal negligence settlement offer to Mr. Geralds' family. This offer was low, but we're a public school. All of our money is what the government decides it is.

"I'll give you time to think, Sandra, but this is happening. I'm so sorry this happened, but I won't tell you what you want to hear. It's your fault, and your career is over. Keeping you out of prison and keeping your benefits was the best miracle I could pull for." I'm not some hotshot lawyer, but even Harvey Dent-er.... Specter would be impressed at the legal magic I pulled to keep this woman out of prison.

"Thank you, Mr. Lighter, you've done me a great service for someone who doesn't even work for me." she said, her aged eyes shining with an otherworldly light "I wish more women like me appreciated you." And she asked me to leave her office. Weird. I shrugged and made the long snake through the high school on my way to my car. At this time of evening, only eighteen year-olds are still allowed on grounds. I parked on the far side of the building because it gets more shade, and it gives me the chance to see what the students were up to during the school day. Lots of handmade posters for some sort of LGBT rally with optional attendance, good for them. I wonder how many will be attending just to get out of class (or how many will stay in class just to avoid that crowd).

I think back to Ms. Kleipfer. Women like me? Something about that phrasing bothered me, not to mention the wicked look in her eye. I shrugged and made the long snake through the high school on my way to my car. Lower education is predominantly populated by women anyway. She was probably wishing that most of the teachers I have to defend after they get pregnant with their students' kids would give me a fucking break. I mean, seriously? Who would ever get involved with a high school student, even if she was eighteen.

I turned a corner and bumped into someone, knocking her and a bunch of art supplies down. "Oh, Jesus, sorry!" I say, knowing full well that's an admission of guilt. Looking down at the source of the voice, it's a student. Or at least, she's too young to be part of the faculty. "I didn't see you there." I finished. When I bumped into her, it looked like she was carrying too many things at once and they spilled everywhere. I then heard angry, frustrated sounds of a high school girl.

Sounds of rage came from her. "Oh, you are SO de-!" And she stopped, the moment she laid her eyes on me. It was weird, it was like she was transfixed on me. I didn't know what to do, so I just offered her my hand to help her up. She snapped out of it and took my hand.

After helping her to her feet, I get a good look at her. Mind you, a look, not an ogle. She's as tall as I am at 5'11", tan, had short dirty blond hair, and nice proportions. She was pretty and had no makeup covering her few freckles. Your stereotypical tomboy. If not for the rainbow T-shirt saying: 'Gronye LGBT Club', I'd imagine that she would probably have the guys falling over her.

"Um," she continued, "H-hey. Sorry." She was bright red. Now I was confused. First she threatens me, but right after seeing me she becomes this meek little thing?

Did I really look that threatening? "Uh, no. I wasn't watching where I was going," I tried to dismiss things. "Here, let me help you pick all of this up."

"NO!" She yelled, once again scaring me. "Uh-I mean..." and she looked down at her shirt and tried to cover up the 'Gronye LGBT Club' logo on her shirt in vain for some reason. She then looked dejected and said "Sure, thanks." I don't know what her problem was. If I had to warrant a guess, I'd say that she was concerned that her shirt was too small for her and that it emphasized her tits too much, which is why she covered them up. She's clearly a lesbian after all. Probably doesn't want some old white guy in a suit (IE, the bogeyman of the LGBT) to look at her sexually at all.

I decided to respect her privacy while I helped her pick up all of the art supplies. She really was carrying too much, she must have been extremely fit to do this.

After lifting half of them, I asked her where she was headed to. "W-what?" She asked, scared. "What do you mean?"

"Well," I stated the obvious "I was going to help carry these to wherever you were going."

"Are you sure?" she said, to which I grunted affirmatively. "... thank you." I now wondered if a guy had ever been nice to her.

Zoe Hunters was a lesbian. Well, she says "was", because that changed about 5 minutes ago. A long time ago she had prayed that a beautiful angel would be sent to her to sweep her off her feet (a bizarrely princess-like wish, considering how masculine she was). She never once imagined that her angel would be a man. Zoe hated men. She hated her father for walking out on them, she hated her brother for becoming a junkie, she hated her coach for groping her friend, and she hated the boys of the school for staring at her and asking her out. She hated men. And for the flash of a moment, she hated this man, too. This man who had bumped into her and knocked out all of these art supplies all over the floor after she had carefully aligned all of them in her arms. But then she looked at him, and knew. She knew that this was the angel she had prayed for. She felt herself growing hot, her pulse quicken, her arms develop goosebumps. But one look at whoever this well-dressed guy was and she knew she would never go back to being just a lesbian. She now had a type. Her type was this guy. Who, ironically, looked like every guy she used to hate about on Twitter.

She realized she looked like a turbodyke right now. Big rainbow T-shirt, no bra, surrounded with LGBT paraphernalia. She covered herself up in vain as her new knight... or king... or something helped her pick everything up and head to the art room out of the goodness of his heart. 'Omigosh, he's SUCH a sweetheart!'

Interesting enough, she still had attraction for girls, but when she put it next to this feeling she has for this guy, it seems like a whisper compared to a megaphone. But she clearly wasn't a lesbian. This guy's a guy and she was super DUPER into him. But other guys? ew. They have penises and whatnot.

'Wait, this guy has a penis, too, right? Why doesn't that bother me? I want to see it. Touch it. Touch it.... a lot... How do I seduce guys?' She thought to herself, trying to stare at this guy's crotch while he's holding a big box of art supplies there.