A meeting with the principal, and. . . my mother?

"Andrew Vale, please come to the principal's office. Andrew Vale, you are required at the principal's office."

I stood up from my desk, more than a bit surprised. I grabbed my backpack and shoved the notebook and pen I'd taken out for notes from homeroom. I was in B class this year, a step up from last year. Classes were ranked A through E, and students were grouped together in academics, best to worst. Alright, I admit, I was a bit above average, but it's not like I had anything better to do than study.

A couple stragglers near the door paled and backed away from me as I approached. I resisted sighing. I inherited most of my looks from my dad. My height, my build, the resting-sinister face that made people worried I might be angry with them when I literally hadn't paid them second thought. Oh, and my big dick supposedly. Blame my drunk mother for my knowing that one.

I got soft skin from my mom, as well as a boyish bone structure that made me look too young and a touch androgynous. . . and facial hair that was inconsistent and weak, that I made sure to keep shaved so I didn't have to worry about it coming in patchy. Sadly despite the softer looks than my dad, it seemed to only make the sinister stare worse. It was more frightening after a first youthful innocent look, or so my friends said.

When I got to the principal's office the secretary waved me past her and into the administration hallway in the back. I hadn't been there before. I hesitated.

"This way dear," said the secretary, she'd sneaked up behind me. Then she headed down the hall and to a large conference room and waved me through the door.

I paused at the entrance. There was the principal, frowning, arms crossed under her breasts that strained against her suit jacket. She was sitting in a plush chair near the back of the room. Then there was my mother on one side of the rectangular table, smiling warmly at me with her plush rose-scarlet lips — apparently she'd done her makeup before coming to my school, even though she'd have to retouch it for work later. Across from my mother was a casually sitting man dressed for business, but his tie was loose and his arm cuffs were rolled up. His back was to me, but he turned as my mother's reaction made it obvious I'd come in.

"Great, just great, please Andy, my boy, sit down with your mother," said the man, "I'm Frank Judges. I'm so excited to be the first to share this opportunity with you."

"It's Andrew," I said, "Or Drew if you have to shorten it. Andy's awful, just so childish." I did, however, sit down by my mother. She patted me on the shoulder, and I instantly felt at ease despite the weirdness of being called in for a meeting with the principal to find her basically annoyed in her own little corner.

"What's this about?" I asked, "I haven't done anything wrong." I looked over to the principal, "principal Sanada?"

She looked like she was going to answer me, when Frank chuckled deeply and flicked his hand dismissively towards her. So instead of answering me she huffed and sat back more deeply in her giant leather chair.

"Principal Sanada, nah, you should get used to calling her Ami now. Ami's just here because this meeting's real official, and she's responsible for the partnership between Golden Dawn Academy and my organization, the LaRose institute. We're very interested in you kid, err," Frank ran a hand over his neck, "guess you're not a kid anymore. That's kind of the point. Sorry, your file's been in my portfolio since you were 12. Hard to separate that familiarity, even if I never met you 'til today. I'm part of LaRose's experimental program, I get my hands dirty working with people to make our wildest ideas come true, and I've got an opportunity you can't pass up."

I looked at my mom, who looked a bit more worried than I thought she should. She swallowed and looked down, and I finally wondered why she was wearing a turtleneck. I didn't think she even owned one, let alone a turtleneck sweater.

"What opportunity are you talking about? What interest could I be for you? Is it because, ugh, is it because my purpose couldn't be scored? Am I some outlier you'd like to experiment on? Fine, finish your pitch. But I doubt I'll be interested."

"Hmm, well it's something like that, yeah," said Frank, "but I doubt it's anything like what you're imagining. First I have to ask though, what do you know about our connection to your school? To Golden Dawn?"