A Bad Day at Hometimber High

The day had started so well. The sun was already shining through my bedroom curtains when I woke up, and that always helps me get out of bed before my mom has to tell me too many times. Not having stayed awake too late the night before might also have helped. My younger sister seemed pretty quiet in her room, so mom would soon be chasing her to get up and get ready for school, but it meant I would have a clear run at the bathroom. Ten minutes later, I was sitting on the edge of my bed drying my long, wavy, blond hair when mom started her morning yells.

“Nicole? Are you up yet?”

“Yes, mom,” I called back. “Just drying my hair.”

“Breakfast in ten minutes, okay?”

“Fine, mom,” I answer cheerfully.

“Juliette, I can’t hear you!”

No response.

“Juliette, you are up, aren’t you?”

Still no reply.

“Nicole, give your sister a shake-up, would you?”

Now, right at that moment I’m standing in just brief white panties and bra, admiring myself in the mirrored front of my wardrobe, the bath towel still wrapped around my hair.

“Okay, mom.”

I went into my younger sister’s room and she’s awake and sitting on the edge of her bed playing with her cellphone.

“Hey stupid! Why aren’t you answering mom?”

Juliette ignores me too, so I give her a kick. It’s not a hard kick, more playful really. But at least she’s now aware of my presence, and she didn’t like me kicking her, which is always nice.

“Mom’s been calling you. Breakfast in ten minutes, okay?”


I guess I was hoping for a more positive response, but I just shrug and go back to my own room. As it’s shaping up to be a really warm day, I pull white cotton pants and a faded blue T-shirt from my closet and put them on. My white panties will be noticeable under these thin white pants, which will attract the boys’ attention, which is nice. White ankle socks and thick-soled trainers complete my outfit for today.

When I get downstairs to the kitchen, Juliette has somehow beaten me to it and she’s sitting at the kitchen table eating chocolate-flavoured cereal she’s mixed with milk to make it look positively disgusting. Mom serves up my favourite fried bacon and tomato served on fried bread. After we’ve eaten, we both carry our plates to the sink and rinse them under the cold tap before putting them in the dishwasher. Then it’s a matter of grabbing school bags and heading for where the school bus picks us up on our way to Hometimber High. And that’s where my whole day started to go wrong.

“Hey Nic’,” Beth Peterson greeted me. “Hey brat.”

My sister made a face in response. That’s a pretty standard early morning conversation between Beth and my sister. They get on really, but Beth does like to tease Juliette.

“Hey Beth,” I reply, and we have a quick girly hug.

“Hey Nic,” My other best friend, Jilly Crawford, ran up from behind me.

We also have a brief girly hug as I say, “Hey Jilly.”

By this time, my sister has met up with several of her friends and they’ve taken over the rear few seats on the bus. Beth, Jilly and I found seats closer to the front. And then we were moving on our twenty-five-mile, fifty-minute ride to school, via another four pick-up points.

The first sign of trouble was when I heard my sister scream out. Now, my sister can really scream when she puts her mind to it, and I’ve had years of getting to know when it’s her that’s squawking. Of course, I had to look round to see who was murdering her, or in some way attracting her displeasure. It looked like there was some kind of a fight going on, and Mr Adams, our bus driver, was becoming distracted. I felt I had to go towards the back of the bus and see what was happening. Beth took it upon herself to go with me.

As I sort of expected, Juliette was making a big fuss about not very much, although she had somehow ended up on the floor of the bus and another girl was sitting astride her and seemed to be pulling her hair.

“Okay, break it up!” I pulled the girl up from sitting on Juliette and shoved her to one side. “Come on, Jules, they have seats for sitting on, not floors.”

“We were just having a discussion about make-up, actually!” My sister protested.

“Yeah, so shove off!” The girl I’d lifted off Juliette shouted in my ear and gave me a shove.

“Don’t shove her, bitch!” Beth screamed in the girl’s face and gave the girl an even harder shove.

“Cat fight! Cat fight!” The boys on the bus all chimed in, apparently enjoying the spectacle.

It wasn’t long before the fight was pretty much as before, but with a couple of eleventh graders piling in for good measure. I hadn’t noticed the bus had stopped until I heard Mr Adams bellowing.

“Girls! Girls! Stop this now! This is a school bus, not a boxing ring. Now, everyone get back to your seats. I don’t want to hear another word from any of you.”

I don’t know what Mr Adams had that Beth and I didn’t, but the fighting and bickering stopped as if by magic. Maybe a bus driver outranks eleventh year students. I suppose it does, really. Anyway, everything cooled down and we were back on the move again with just a little bickering and chiding. My hair had got well messed up, so I opened my bag and started repairs. Meanwhile, Beth stared out the window at the rolling fields of cotton and peanuts.

It was really only when we began to get near school that I bothered my little head about the earlier disturbance on the bus. The driver, Mr Adams, had always been a likeable gentleman, but I couldn’t see he was going to ignore what had happened. I wondered whether there was anything I could say to him that, basically, would persuade him to keep his mouth shut, but nothing occurred to me. Anyway, it was Juliette’s fight; I only went to her rescue.

Even when school got underway, I was not deeply worried about any repercussions. Then again, maybe there was just that niggling little doubt in my mind? Certainly, when my Math class was interrupted by a school secretary entering the room and whispering something to our teacher, I was in little doubt about the reason, and who would be asked to go with her.

“Nicole Warner, would you go with Mrs Johnson, please? There’s something you need to sort out.”

I quickly gathered my stuff together and followed Mrs Johnson out of the classroom. Mrs Johnson, a rather stout middle-aged woman with short, mid-brown hair had worked at the school for more years than I’d been there. She never said a lot, at least not to us students, but she was always as helpful as she could be if you approached her with a problem.

“Any idea what this is about?” I asked, not really wanting the answer, more just to break the uncomfortable silence as we walked along together.

She shot me a brief glance, the expression saying it all. It was kind of, you know just as well as I do, you really don’t need to ask, do you?

As we approached the secretaries’ station, Mrs Johnson pointed at some chairs to one side and said, “Take a seat. Mrs Henson will come find you shortly.” She then went behind the counter and started shuffling papers.

As soon as I sat down, my fears got a confirmation vote that I really didn’t need. Beth Peterson was being escorted to the secretaries’ station by another school secretary, Mrs Taylor.

I gave Beth a smile and said, “Heya,” but she just sat down next to me without speaking.

“The bus this morning? Do you think?” I spoke quietly, not wanting to be overheard by any of the secretarial staff who were constantly coming and going. It might have been a dumb question, but I was keen to break the silence with Beth.

“No talking!” Mrs Johnson called over to us. “Move a couple of seats further apart.”

My plan clearly didn’t work.

Beth just sat there, so I shifted two seats to my right. I threw a smile in Beth’s direction, but she continued staring blankly ahead. If she had thoughts on her mind, it was impossible for me to fathom out what they were. To keep occupied, I looked around the area sectioned off into an open-plan office for the several school secretaries. Mrs Johnson and Mrs Taylor appeared busy shifting paper from one desk to another and from one assistant to another. A twelfth-year student, Heidi Anders, was sorting through blue and red folders and then bending down and putting them away in low cabinets underneath the counter.

How worried was I? Well, sitting there waiting to be called into the Vice Principal’s office is never a good place to be. I was certain this was about the bus incident. There was nothing else it could be. My mind turned to possible consequences. There would be a serious telling-off, that much was pretty certain. We’d both probably be standing in front of Mrs Henson’s desk for ten minutes while she bawled us out. I work in the school library every Tuesday and Thursday. It’s a privilege, and I expected that to be gone inside the next few minutes. Then, I also have a Saturday job in a local art gallery. Would I be allocated Saturday detention, maybe for two or more weeks in a row? That could lose me my job.

We must have been sitting there for more than ten minutes before Mrs Henson appeared round the corner.

“Ah, Miss Warner and Miss Peterson. This way, girls.”

The vice-principal turned and led the way to her office with Beth and me following on behind. When we got there, she opened the door and waved us inside. Beth and I both kind of naturally stood in front of her desk while she went around to the far side and sat down.

“Okay, you two, I have numerous reports of your behavior on the school bus this morning. I appreciate you, Nicole, felt you were defending your younger sister, but that still does not excuse you getting involved in a brawl. As for you, Beth, maybe you wanted to support Nicole here, but that also does not excuse you getting into a fight.”

Mrs Henson stopped there. I wasn’t certain whether Beth or I was supposed to speak, and Mrs Henson had simply made a statement, not asked us what happened.

“What you should have done, girls, is to have interceded verbally. Told them to stop what they were doing and resume their seats. You had a right to do that as senior students. If they did not heed your words then you should have sought out a member of staff, in this case the driver; Mr Adams, wasn’t it? It’s just the same as if you were in school and saw something like that happening. Clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Beth answered with a sigh. She seemed to be finding all this rather tiresome.

“I think actually you both know that.” She looked in my direction.

I was looking at the vice-principal and biting my lip.

“Yes, ma’am,” I added. It seemed at the time to be what was wanted.

“You may care to know the younger girls involved, including your sister, Nicole, will be disciplined by another vice-principal, the one who looks after their year group.”

So, Juliette and the others might well be having a similar conversation with Mr Harper, a sports coach with a reputation as a stern wielder of a paddle. I was certainly glad I wasn’t in Juliette’s shoes. I also wondered what mom would make of all this when we got home. Maybe the school would be telephoning her to tell her what had happened and what they were going to do about it. I could well imagine she might have disciplinary ideas of her own, in addition to any school sanctions.

“Do either of you have anything to say?”

Beth snorted. I didn’t get that was very helpful, given the look on Mrs Henson’s face.

“Just that I’m very sorry, ma’am.” I offered. “I realise, now, my actions were totally out of order. I’m also sorry I somehow involved Beth in this.”

“Okay,” Mrs Henson looked at Beth to see if she now had anything to say, but Beth was staring out the window.

“Do either of you have any questions?”

Both Beth and I looked blank. I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to ask. I mean, I wanted to know what was going to happen, but then again I wasn’t so sure I was going to like what was going to happen, so a little longer ignorance was fine with me.

“No? Okay, here’s where we are. I feel I’ve heard enough reports to know pretty much what happened on the bus today. Neither of you have denied the basic facts. Correct?”

Well, that was kind of correct, and I certainly didn’t want to go checking out every little detail Mrs Henson had been told. I knew we were out of order. Time to hear what she was going to do about it.

“Nothing to say? Okay, I’m sure we all want this silly affair cleared up and behind us without a whole lot of fuss. Now, you both know the school’s policy as regards fighting and violent conduct.”

Oh dear!

“For what it’s worth, the younger girls will all be paddled, if it hasn’t already happened. That includes your sister, Nicole.”

Mrs Henson looked straight at me when she said that. I nodded, just as an acknowledgement I’d heard what she said really. What was I supposed to say? That I fully supported the school in paddling my brat of a younger sister? I did. It would be such fun teasing her later that day, but I wasn’t at all sure supporting the use of the paddle was going to help my own cause too much.

“It seems to me you two are just as involved in that fight as the younger girls, and therefore your punishment should be the same. Four swats of the paddle each.”

I looked at Beth. She was still staring out the window behind Mrs Henson and didn’t seem to have reacted in any way. I’m sure my own eyes widened, and I probably puffed out my cheeks.

“Anything to say now? Either of you?”

Beth gently shook her head. I don’t know what was going through her head at that moment, but she clearly wasn’t going to argue.

“That seems a little extreme for two eleventh grade students, ma’am,” I suggested.

“School rules apply to eleventh grade students just as much as any other year, Nicole. You know that. I’m well within my rights to paddle you.”

“Yes, I appreciate that, ma’am. I agree you have the right to paddle us. But, we’re both seventeen and, well, students our age don’t usually get paddled.”

“Students your age don’t usually get into fights on the school bus, Nicole.”

Beth looked at me and sighed. I didn’t get she wanted me to pursue my argument.

“No, ma’am.” I, too, surrendered.

“Okay, so you two go back to the chairs by the secretary’s station and wait there. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Beth and I both murmured.

As I turned, Beth was already pulling the door open. In next to no time we were both out in the hallway.

“Sorry, Beth,” I offered.

She gave me a similar snort to the one she had given Mrs Henson. With Beth striding off down the hall back to the secretaries’ station, I went after her, struggling to keep up. Maybe Beth didn’t want me to keep up. Whatever, we were soon sat two chairs apart, back where we had been earlier. Pretty much all the secretaries, including our fellow student, Heidi Anders, all took a turn looking across at us.

“It’s like they know what Mrs Henson is going to do to us,” I whispered over to Beth.

She ignored me.

“Beth, you didn’t have to follow me to the back of the bus.” I tried to make up with her. “I’m grateful you did, but I really didn’t want to get you into trouble. Look, I’ll try again and see if Mrs Henson will just paddle me, okay? Maybe if she gives me a couple more then she’ll let you off.”

“Don’t bother.” It wasn’t much, but at least Beth was back talking to me again.

“No, I really want to take the punishment on my own. I deserve it, you don’t.”

“I did shove a few kids.” Beth muttered. “I deserve it, I guess. Just keep quiet. You might make things worse.”

“How could I make things worse?”

“Extra swats? Four isn’t too bad, you know.”

Did I see Beth smile when she said that?

“It’ll put some decent bruises across our behinds!” I commented.

“No talking! I’ve warned you about that before!”

Mrs Johnson’s loud bellow attracted everyone’s attention, and now everyone was looking at Beth and me. We both sat back in our chairs and kept our thoughts to ourselves as we awaited the summons to our doom, or at least our sore backsides.

Now, sitting and waiting to be called to have your butt paddled is not a comfortable place to be anyway, but when a fellow student like Heidi Anders comes and leans against the counter nearest to where we were sat makes it far worse. Have no doubt, Heidi was just waiting and praying our vice principal would appear from round the corner so she could see and relish and be close to the sudden look of fear on our faces, and sense our feelings of humiliation as we get led away to our meeting with the paddle. But then I guess I’d do the same in Heidi’s shoes.

“Heidi, could you come and give me a hand with these files, please?”

Aw, shame! Mrs Taylor’s call for assistance looked like it was going to spoil things for Heidi. But, Mrs Henson saved the day by appearing from around the corner.

“Okay, you two, come with me.”

Beth and I stood up face-to-face with Heidi. By sucking her lips, Heidi managed to avoid outright smiling at us, but you could see in her eyes just how much she was enjoying the moment. As we followed Mrs Henson round the corner and along the hall, we were at least soon hidden from Heidi’s view, although we also became aware Mrs Johnson, the senior of the secretaries, was following on behind us.

“In you go,” Mrs Henson held the door to her office open for us, and we all filed through, including Mrs Johnson.

Beth and I stood in front of Mrs Henson’s large desk, while the vice principal herself sat in her leather office chair behind it and Mrs Johnson stood to one side.

Beth and I both looked around the office. It wasn’t that we were interested in the décor; we were both searching for a first sighting of the paddle, the wooden implement that was going to blister our butts. I couldn’t see it, and I don’t think Beth could either.

“Nicole, Beth, we’ve already discussed why you’re here and I don’t want to labor the point. I just want it to be crystal clear that under no circumstances is fighting and violent behavior acceptable. It will always be punished, and the penalty will be firm. You got me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Beth got in before me.

“Yes, ma’am,” I added. “Just one thing, ma’am, I do feel Beth needn’t be here right now. It’s me that was responsible and me you should be punishing. I take total responsibility.”

“Nice try, girl.” Mrs Henson looked up at me with half a smile on her face. “But I’m pretty certain who needs to be here right now, and I’ve got both of them standing right in front of my desk.”

I glanced at Beth, who was looking out the window. My effort clearly didn’t impress her. Oh well, there was nothing more I could do. We were both getting it, and that was that.

“So!” Mrs Henson suddenly awoke us from our thoughts.

She stood up and bent down so she could rummage through the lower drawer in her desk. She was wearing a pink pants suit and I watched as the material stretched across her bottom as she bent. Not good; it made me think of what I would be doing, and how I would look, in a few moments. Then we got our first sight of the paddle.

It looked quite neat, really, having been sanded down all around the outside, and the pale wood had been lovingly varnished to a soft gloss finish. The business part of the paddle was maybe sixteen inches long and five inches wide. This blade then was attached to a round handle maybe eight inches long and about an inch and a quarter in diameter. The handle had been bound with grippy tape so the user could get a good grip on it. Well, you wouldn’t want it slipping out of your hand while you were paddling a couple of students like Beth and myself, would you?

Closing the drawer with her foot, Mrs Henson then made a point of holding the paddle out so Beth and I got a good look at it, whether we wanted to or not.

“Beth, would you go stand with Mrs Johnson, please?”

Huh? I didn’t get that meant a whole lot, except that Beth had to walk round me to go stand with the secretary. But, as Beth got close to her, Mrs Johnson fetched a chair from up against the side wall and turned it around so its back was facing Beth. Beth made an upward and then downward gesture with her hand that suggested a diving movement, and Mrs Johnson nodded. I realized the significance when Beth bent over the back of the chair.

Now, Beth was wearing a short denim skirt that day that molded itself around her butt when she was fully over the back of the chair. Being that she’s attractively endowed in the rear-end department, Beth was certainly presenting an inviting target for our vice-principal.

“Wait there!” I got a finger point that kind of also said to stay where I was as Mrs Henson came out from behind her desk and approached the chair where Beth and Mrs Johnson were.

Now, I’d been expecting to be sent out of the room when it became clear our vice-principal had selected Beth as her first spankee. Since I was still there, I, of course, elected to watch proceedings, every last little detail.

“Keep your butt still, Beth and this can be over within moments. Okay?”

“Okay, ma’am.”

Beth’s voice sounded muffled. Maybe it was just subdued, like it might be if you were waiting for a mighty hard wooden paddle to get slammed hard across your butt.

Crash! Suddenly, said wooden paddle did get slammed across Beth’s backside, hard!

She grunted. It sounded weird.

Then another swing of the paddle and Beth got her second swat. That also made her snort and sway her hips a little. As soon as she steadied herself, another swat banged into the seat of her denim skirt. She squealed, quite loudly.

Mrs Henson then straightened a little as she stared down at Beth’s bottom. The vice-principal seemed to choose her spot and then she whipped that mean little paddle hard across Beth’s taught backside.

“Aaahh!!” Beth automatically half-straightened and clutched her bottom with her left hand.

“Okay, Beth, you’re done. When you’re ready, you can go wait by my desk or you can leave, if you prefer.”

As Beth looked around, I could see she was close to tears. Immediately, she turned, rubbed both hands down the sides of her skirt, and headed straight for the door with just the briefest of glances in my direction. And then she was gone, leaving just me to face Mrs Henson and Mrs Johnson.

“Okay, Nicole, you’re on.” For good measure, Mrs Henson used the paddle to point me in the direction of the small chair.

I kind of hesitated, like I didn’t really want to do this. But then, I had no choice other than to do this, so I kind of staggered towards the chair and the two waiting ladies. My head was in a daze and I couldn’t tell you one little detail about how I took those seven or eight steps over to the side of the office. Then I was standing right behind the chair.

It all seemed awkward. My arms were swinging by my side, like I didn’t know what to do next. I could feel both ladies waiting for me.

“Check your back pockets!” Mrs Johnson whispered. Like no one is supposed to know?

I cupped both hands around my butt. My thin cotton pants didn’t have back pockets, just two on either side at the front. I let my arms hang loose again.

“It’s best for you if you bend right over the back of the chair and make it easy for me to hit your butt. Then I can apply the four swats and you’re out of here. Okay?”

I thought about what Mrs Henson had said. Stick butt out; allow it to be hit four times; leave and get on with my life. It sounded pretty easy and straightforward. Then I realized they were waiting for me to do just that. Believe me, bending over the back of that chair was not easy.

Somehow, though, I forced myself to lean forward, and then push my head forward and down, down until my thin cotton pants began to stretch across my bottom. By the time my head was touching the seat of the chair, those pants were really tight across my butt and I reckoned I must have been presenting Mrs Henson’s required easy target.

“Well done.”

I didn’t have time to wonder whether it was Mrs Henson or Mrs Johnson who spoke because the paddle landed hard across my poor bottom. Oh my god! My backside lit up with fire and pain. I’d straightened a little and I was just so tempted to reach back and massage my poor bottom.

But, Mrs Henson was waiting, I could feel it. I dipped my head back down and stretched my pants tight across my butt. In an instant, I’d been paddled a second time. Wow! The pain was incredible. It seemed to scorch my entire backside. I could feel my eyes getting all watery and I believe I did wipe them with the back of one hand.

I wanted to stand up and rub my poor bottom. I wanted to stay down and take my final two swats. I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. And then the third swat whipped into my bottom. Yeeow!! It hurt!

My mind was certainly in some turmoil, and several thoughts crossed my mind, mainly about figuring how to avoid further damage to my poor butt. Before I could put any plan into action, the fourth swat cracked across my backside.

“Ooowww!!” I didn’t mean to cry out, but I did. I didn’t particularly mean to stand up and clutch my butt with both hands, but I did.

“Okay, Nicole, that’s it. You’re done.”

I looked round to see Mrs Henson going to her desk and replacing the paddle in the bottom drawer. My eyes focused on the pink pants of her pants suit tightening across her butt as she bent down. That even seemed weird to me!

“You can leave when you’re ready, Nicole.” I heard Mrs Johnson’s voice and realized she was still there.

“Okay, thanks.” I headed for the door.

“Thank you, Nicole,” Mrs Henson called across from her desk.

“Thanks, ma’am,” I replied instinctively. I wasn’t really thanking her for paddling my butt, not really. I was more thanking her for performing the task efficiently, perhaps, and getting it done without hostility or ill-feeling towards me.

“I’ll walk with you, Nicole.” Mrs Johnson put a hand on my shoulder briefly as we walked side by side back towards the secretaries’ station. “Not too bad, was it?”

Now, my butt was, like, on fire! I mean it really hurt. I wanted to dive into a restroom, maybe get some cold water on my backside, but they were all down the hall past the secretaries’ station.

“I guess not, ma’am,” I responded. It could have been worse, much worse. At least I felt both ladies were neutral towards me. They both wanted to see me punished, nothing more, and that’s what they carried out; an effective punishment that on balance I probably deserved.

“And I’m afraid you deserved it, Nicole.”

“Yes, ma’am. I agree.” What was the point of disagreeing? It wasn’t going to unpaddle my butt. That was staying sore for the rest of the afternoon.

We reached the secretaries’ station and Mrs Johnson continued behind the counter. Of course, Heidi was there, waiting like a vulture.

“Have you seen Beth?” I asked her, trying to sound unresentful.

“I last saw her going into the ladies’ rest room down that way.” She pointed down an adjoining hallway. “Probably checking out the marks on her backside.” Oh, she had to add that, didn’t she?

I sniff and stick my nose in the air before heading off in the direction Beth was alleged to have followed. I enter the restroom and find Beth with her skirt up and her panties around her knees. Her bottom has several bruises and looks very sore, and she’s trying to half twist around so she can see her butt in the long mirror behind the sinks. She hesitates as I enter, sees it’s me and carries on.

“Hey,” I offer.

“Hey,” she returns, rather grudgingly.

I do the honorable thing and slip my white pants and underwear down so she can see my backside and I can view it in the mirror. Wow! It looked pretty red and blotchy. I could imagine the sore pain I was experiencing carrying on for the rest of the day.

“Sorry you got paddled, Beth.” I could feel tension between us.

“It’s okay.”

“I did try to take responsibility, but Mrs Henson just wouldn’t listen.”

“Nicole, it’s okay. Okay?”


It still didn’t feel okay, but any thought I might have had about pursuing things was interrupted by Heidi Anders coming into the rest room, with Beth’s and my butts still on full show.

“Awsome! Mrs Henson sure paddled your butts, didn’t she now?”

“I’m sure you know all about it, Heidi.” Beth replied calmly, with a glance in my direction that meant: ‘Don’t start anything!’

“Fighting on the school bus, wasn’t it?” Heidi says innocently. “A bit silly, if you ask me, especially for girls of your age.”

“Very wise, Heidi.”

“I mean, we all know if you’re caught fighting, then it’s an automatic paddling.”

“Yes, we do, Heidi.”

“I mean, you’re going to find it real uncomfortable sitting down for the rest of your classes.”

“Yes, we are, Heidi.”

Then I interrupted. “Speaking of which, I’m for getting off to my History class.”

Just as I was about to pull up my underwear and my white pants, the door burst open and in walked Mrs Johnson.

“What’s going on here, girls?” She asked, looking down at the two bare butts still on full view. “Heidi, have you been tormenting these two about their paddlings? Has she, girls?”

Now, Heidi certainly wasn’t about to own up to that! Beth and I looked at each other and, tempting though it was, we were not about to break the unwritten code that says you don’t snitch. All of which meant no one spoke.

“You girls, get dressed and off to your classes. Heidi, I think you might need a little chat in Mrs Henson’s office.”

Mrs Johnson turned and left.

“Hey, Heidi, it’s your lucky day.” I said. She looked dumbfounded, so I added: “Not only are you going to see the results of a paddling, you’re going to feel one too.”

“Really? You think? Surely not?”

No, I didn’t think she would get paddled over a little teasing, but it was nice that she was worried.

The End

© Christina Mendosa 2020