Principal Whitney hurried us along from behind. "Move it, move it. The whole field's waiting."
Out on the field, more than two thousand students were already lined up by class.
A sea of bodies, all whispering.
Delia shoved me onto the stage. She put real force behind it, trying to send me sprawling, but I planted my feet and didn't so much as sway.
A flicker of disappointment crossed her face.
Whitney strode to the microphone and cleared his throat. "Today, we are holding an emergency school-wide assembly!"
The field went quiet.
"This girl!" He jabbed a finger at my face. "Was caught seducing Piers James of our Ivy League Track Program in the cafeteria!"
The crowd erupted. Students turned to each other, buzzing.
Delia snatched the microphone from his hand. "Piers James is my son! Ranked first in the entire city on the mock exams! He is this school's pride! He is Ivy League material!"
She wheeled on me, her finger nearly poking my face.
"There have been several of these little foxes before her. They all wanted to ruin my son! Ruin this school's future! Who do they think they are? They think they're worthy of even speaking to my boy?"
Whitney took the microphone back. His tone softened, and he put on a show of magnanimity.
"Just apologize in front of everyone. Write a letter of assurance. If your attitude is satisfactory, I might consider not expelling you."
I looked at that phony face of his and couldn't help but laugh.
"You don't even know who I am, and you're demanding an apology?"
Delia exploded. "Who do you think you are? Who could you possibly be? You're nothing but a shameless little piece of trash!"
The angrier she got, the more unhinged she became. She charged at me, hand raised to slap my face.
I sidestepped. Her palm cut through empty air, and her momentum carried her forward. She staggered two steps, nearly pitching headfirst off the stage.
Laughter erupted from below.
Delia's face turned beet red.
"What are you laughing at?!" she screamed at the crowd. Then she spun back toward me, eyes wild with fury.
She pulled a red marker from her pocket and twisted off the cap.
"Still running that smart mouth? Still think you can dodge?"
She advanced on me, marker raised.
"I'm going to write 'homewrecker' across your face! You'll never wash it off! The whole school is going to see exactly what you are!"
The laughter below cut off like a switch had been flipped.