Lounsbury Prep

Zayn didn’t have a good feeling in his stomach as he walked down the hallway, his steps echoing down the empty corridor with every footfall. In fact, he’d go as far as describing the discomfort as overt nausea, and every time he passed a bathroom between his economics classroom and the office, which was three times by his count, he debated darting in there and preparing to be violently ill.

But somehow, he managed to keep down the vomit that had been threatening to creep up his throat since his economics teacher told him, quite seriously, that the dean had requested a meeting with him. At his old school, the whole classroom would have burst into choruses of “OOOOO. Someone’s in trouuuuble.” But at Lounsbury, everyone just watched in intense silence with wide eyes as he rose from his seat and exited the room.

As if they’d never seen someone get called down to the dean’s office before. Though, granted, with the high standards Lounsbury held for their students, maybe it wasn’t so typical.

After what seemed like two hours, Zayn finally found the dean’s office. His hand hesitated on the knob for a second, his palm slick, as he took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself. It’s going to be okay, Zayn told himself. Maybe the dean’s just checking up to make sure you haven’t done anything bad since the wandering-in-the-middle-of-the-night incident.

But Zayn’s optimism was promptly crushed when he threw open the door and saw his very angry, though very stony-faced, parents sitting in two of the dean’s chairs, an open one in the middle.

“Hello, Mr. Malik.” The dean’s voice was just as intimidating as Zayn remembered, and the simple statement stopped him in his tracks, even though his tone wasn’t exactly angry. “Won’t you take a seat between the two familiar faces in front of me?”

Zayn couldn’t bring himself to catch the eyes of either of his parents, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor under his feet, as he walked around his father to sit in the remaining seat.

“So, Mr. Malik, do you know why your parents might be here today?”

Zayn stayed silent so as not to incriminate himself.

“They say they want to pull you out of school. Right in the middle of year. Do you know why they’d want to do that?”

Zayn still didn’t speak, so his mother quickly rushed to fill the uncomfortable silence. “We told you, Dr. Archer, Zayn’s having trouble with your classes. We’re just concerned how the poor grades are going to look on his college transcript.”

“On the contrary, Mrs. Malik.” And with a few fast movements, the dean reached into his desk and pulled out Zayn’s file, flipping to the first semester report card and pointing to it with a strong finger. “Mr. Malik’s grades are quite exceptional for his first term at the academy. Most students take a while to adjust, but Mr. Malik took no time at all. It’s clear that this school is a great, stimulating environment for him.”

Zayn’s father coughed uncomfortably, probably at the dean’s word choice, but no one looked to see if he was okay.

“It’s not my place to butt in on family business,” the dean continued slowly, folding his hands on top of the open folder and looking at both of Zayn’s parents in the eyes seriously, “but I seriously wonder if you’re pulling out Zayn is for a selfish reason and not for the good of your son.”

Zayn’s mother’s face turned bright red while Zayn’s father shifted to the front of his seat. “Dr. Archer, please believe us. This is for the good of our son. At his old school, he was a straight A student. He received two B’s last term, and that can’t be acceptable.”

“But this school is much more esteemed than his last one. Again, I’m not saying you cannot remove Zayn from our school, but I really do think staying here is his best option if your main concern is with colleges.”

Finally, something inside Zayn snapped. He couldn’t just sit around and watch his parents fumble for an excuse to remove him that wouldn’t thoroughly humiliate them. He had to fight back. “No. The reason they want to remove me is because I’m in a relationship with another one of your students.”

He could feel his parents deflate, like they couldn’t believe he’d actually said the dreaded words aloud, while it was the dean’s turn to look slightly uncomfortable. “Well, um, that’s not technically against the rules. Relationships are a part of high school, aren’t they?”

Zayn had to fight to keep his jaw from falling slack with shock. Did the dean just defend his sexuality? He could have kissed the old man. Though, not in a romantic way or anything.

“It’s a family decision,” Zayn’s father replied with a stiff jaw. “We can’t allow him to continue attending school in a place where he’s not under constant supervision. Who knows what he could be doing with this other boy?” And judging from the pained look on his face, Doniya had been a little more descriptive about the situation she walked in on than her father would have particularly liked.

“Dad, stop. I’m not a little kid.” Zayn got to his feet so he could give himself the impression of power as he turned his back on the dean to face his parents. “I can make my own choices. I’ve been seeing Louis now for a while, and my grades are still high, just like Dr. Archer said. So just listen to him and don’t take me out of this school. I love it here, and I have friends here, and I don’t want to go back to that shithole town.” He wanted to add that they couldn’t make him, but they absolutely could, which sucked more than Zayn could express with words.

And with Zayn’s speech, it was like the dean disappeared, and Zayn’s father didn’t hold back when he said, “If you don’t want us to treat you like a little child, then don’t act like one. You made a promise to us, and you couldn’t honor that promise for more than a few weeks. I don’t know what kind of man you’ve grown up to be, but it’s certainly not the kind of man we raised you to be.”

“You broke your word, Zayn, and so we don’t have to honor our end of the bargain," his mother added quickly, turning a knife in the gaping wound Zayn felt in his chest. "You’re coming home, no matter what you say to try to convince us otherwise. This is what happens in the real world. Every decision comes with a consequence. Now go back to your room and pack your things. This discussion is over.”

And it was. The dean didn’t say anything else to try to convince Zayn’s parents to let his former student stay, and it was obvious that Zayn was dismissed.

So with heavy, slow legs and an even heavier heart, he made his way back to his dorm room, trying to remember where he’d put his suitcases at the beginning of the year. God, he couldn’t believe that his family had done that to him. Sure, he hadn’t followed the rule he’d agreed with his parents to follow, but wasn’t his own happiness more important?

Apparently not.