Trouble in the bathroom

Christina's flats clicked against the hardwood with military precision as she marched up to John's table, her posture rigid. She cleared her throat—once, twice—before speaking. "Principal Lee? There's an urgent matter." Her index finger jabbed toward the corridor like a prosecutor pointing at damning evidence. "I believe two students are engaging in prohibited sexual activities in the far bathroom."

John stared at Christina's unwavering glare—the girl looked like she'd been bred in a lab to recite honor codes—and felt sweat prickle beneath his collar. "Ah. That is... concerning." His voice cracked. "Perhaps we should—"

"—investigate immediately?" Christina finished for him, already pivoting on her heel. "Agreed. Follow me." She strode toward the hallway without checking if he followed, her pleated skirt swaying with metronomic precision.

John hesitated, casting a wild glance toward Elizabeth—who'd conveniently vanished—before scrambling after Christina. The bass from the gym faded as they turned down the dimly lit hallway, replaced by the rhythmic squeak of Christina's shoes. Halfway to the restrooms, John's survival instincts finally kicked in. "Wait, Christina, shouldn't we get a female teacher to—"

Christina stopped abruptly in front of the bathroom door. She turned with mechanical precision. "Given the severity of this infraction," she said in that clipped, honor-roll tone, "I believe only you, the principal, is qualified to handle this.” Her lips pursed like she'd just smelled something unpleasant. "I will head back to the mixer while you handle the situation.”

John's throat clicked when he swallowed. The bathroom door suddenly looked like the entrance to a lion's den—one that definitely knew he'd just been mauled by two other lions.