Lessons I Never Learned at Meadowbrook Academy by Liz Maccie Page A

to unlock the door. Freezing cold air hit me in the face as the door shut behind me with a thud.
    Twiggy placed her keys down on a dark brown leather blotter, which was on top of her modest silver metal desk. She pointed to two straight-back silver metal chairs. “Take a seat,” she said sternly.
    I sat down and felt the coolness of the metal press against my ankle. I placed my sheets of paper and pen across my lap. The bulk of my makeshift maxi-pad was uncomfortably riding up my butt, and I discreetly tried to wiggle around, hoping the wedgie would fall out, but it didn’t.
    The vent in the ceiling was pumping out a relentless stream of freezing air. I swear I could see tiny icicles forming on the grate. I inched my hands under my butt to keep them warm. My nipples grew hard, and my teeth started to chatter a little.
    Twiggy moved over to a tan metal filing cabinet. She took out another small silver key from her other jacket pocket and opened a tiny square metal box that was sitting on top of the filing cabinet. From this box she lifted out another key, which she then used to open the filing cabinet. She pulled out the cabinet drawer and began meticulously thumbing through files.
    I could barely stand the cold. Twiggy, however, seemed totally unaffected by the inhuman arctic temperature. Maybe Twiggy was like a zombie and she didn’t have any blood in her body and that’s why she didn’t mind the cold. Or maybe she was a vampire. Yeah, a vampire…
    I glanced over at Twiggy as she moved her glasses forward on her nose. Her tightly wound bun stretched her face back so far that I swear I could see her skull. I began to rock back and forth, trying to stay warm. Twiggy finally grabbed a blank manila file and a paper that looked like some kind of form sheet. She sat down behind her desk and uncapped a black felt-tip pen.
    I was fascinated by her desk. It was immaculate, with not even a speck of dust on the thing. There was a small, almost obligatory, green plastic plant sitting on the corner. It looked so sad to me, like it was lonely. I caught a glimpse of something brown and furry hidden between the leaves of the plant. Twiggy began writing my name on the outside tab of the file. I inched forward a little to get a better look at the mysterious brown furry object. What I saw was a small stuffed bear holding a purple sign that read: “I can’t bear to live without you!”
    I quickly leaned back in my chair, not wanting Twiggy to catch me looking at her secret personal object. I tried to imagine what kind of person couldn’t bear to live without Twiggy. I mean, my God, she was practically dead. I bet she lived with some uptight old guy who drank scotch, read The Wall Street Journal , and didn’t give candy to kids on Halloween.
    Twiggy cleared her throat and folded her hands. In a dry, stern voice she said, “Miss Romano, I want to make it perfectly clear that I absolutely abhor liars. It goes against the very nature and heart of what this educational institution stands for, and I will simply not tolerate it. I shall give you one opportunity to explain to me why you were fourteen minutes late for English class.”
    For a second, I actually thought about telling her the truth, but taking in her judgmental stare, I could just feel she had already made a decision about what kind of “kid” I was. This made me angry, so I opted to fuel the fire instead.
    â€œI didn’t feel like going,” I said as snottily as I could.
    My attitude made Twiggy wince, ever so slightly. “You didn’t feel like going?”
    â€œYeah, that’s what I said.”
    â€œMiss Romano, if your behavior does not change, you will be in jeopardy of losing your spot here at Meadowbrook Academy. There is a waiting list of students who want to be here, and we will not waste space on someone who is ill-equipped to carry on the Meadowbrook name. Do I make myself clear?”
    I