Sophie's Throughway by Jules Smith

stopped and nodded towards Mr. Fothergill.
    Mr. Fothergill took a deep breath, lifted his notes and tapped them on the table to straighten them. He thanked Mr. Locks and Mrs. Armitage for their input before his analysis.
    â€œApart from the very serious incidents that we’ve justheard about there are several other minor events where Brendon is quite rough around school, play fighting with friends, which can be very intimidating for other pupils as well as staff.” He looked pointedly at Brendon. “Because of his pertinent attitude and remarks of a personal nature to staff, including swearing at dinner ladies, he has, in the space of one month, been issued with seven detentions and an isolation. His behaviour has got to change drastically, particularly now we are in GCSE year. Abusing the schools computer system is certainly something that will not be tolerated and due to this, I would like Brendon to remain on governors report for the next six weeks with a review at another scheduled meeting to see if he has met with the sanctions.”
    I looked at the half scribbled notes in my book: Computers, Mr. Fothergill’s tie - hideous, passwords and other starred, blank lines waiting to be filled along with mindless drawings I’d done of circles and triangles. Completely useless and not to my usual note taking standard.
    The governors were then asked to give their thoughts. Mr. Smith introduced himself; the only male governor. He had a kind open face and I liked him before he even opened his mouth. “Well, now we’ve heard some of the incidents I’d like to get an idea of how Brendon feels about them.” He spoke calmly and with a smile as he looked over at Brendon, who raised his eyes to meet his for a split second before going back to the piece of paper he’d been making into some sort of origami concoction. “And ofcourse, from Mr. and Ms. Rhodes on their thoughts,” he continued. Yes. I liked him. I drew a little star next to his name on my notes.
    â€œIf you don’t mind Mr. Smith,” interrupted the lady governor, who’d been shaking her head and looking like a cantankerous shrew, “before that, I’d like to know why this young man here hasn’t even flinched at the mention of all these detentions and from where I’m sitting, has shown very little remorse and not once lifted his head up and given any eye contact!”
    I looked at the lady governor dumbfounded and then at Karl who moved uncomfortably in his seat. Brendon looked briefly around, then at me, and then back to tearing up his paper toy.
    She leant forward, directly opposite Brendon, peering through her gold rimmed, glasses at him. She was around sixty -ish with dark grey hair, wound in a tight bun which fitted neatly into the nape of her neck and sported a crisp, white blouse. Old school. Straight out of a Dickens novel.
    A moment of over stretched silence hit the room as we all, but Brendon, looked on at her.
    â€œYou do understand Aspergers?” Karl directed at her.
    â€œI’m asking that your child answer, Mr. Rhodes, and please look at me when I’m addressing him,” she stated.
    â€œClearly not then, Mrs…?”
    â€œJohnstone, Mrs. Johnstone. I introduced myself earlier,” she retorted firmly.
    â€œIf you were familiar with the condition Aspergers, Mrs. Johnstone, then you’d be aware that a child with this ‘disability,’ he emphasised, “will not look you directly in the eyes when talking to you as they find it intimidating.”
    â€œRegardless, its common manners and I’d like his response to the level of detentions he has acquired,” she clipped.
    â€œBrendon,” I looked over to him and smiled. “Please can you tell this lady how you feel about the amount of detentions you’ve had.”
    He looked at me and then at her, flitting between us as he answered. “I don’t feel anything…I don’t