They arrived at the school gates and joined the forming crowd, sorrowed by a sea of questions, murmurs, and flashes. The Public Guard was there, standing like human crowd barriers in their fancy white uniforms, sidearms glinting in the little sun they had.

Then, from the building two officers came out, between them... the--

“Is that the new counselor?!” A girl to their right yelled, quickly snapping a barrage of pictures.

“Oh my god! What did he do?” Another one questioned, looking at a boy's phone while holding onto his arm.

“I don't know, Babe, they haven't released anything yet.” The guy answered, refreshing the TIJ page.

“20Cr on diddling kids.” A guy behind them callously bet with his friend.

“20Cr on a fake license.” The other shook his hand.

“Fake license?”

“I heard the guy is rude as fuck, has his dogs on display while counseling. No way an actual counselor would do that.”

“Eww... Can I change my bet?”

“Nah, get fucked; I want my money.”

The officers shoved the counselor in the back of their truck and shut the door, the crowd barriers retreating with them into their vehicles, the crowd closing in with their flashes, and leaving as unceremoniously as they had arrived. Only one of their cars remained--

*DING DONG DING DONG*

“We ask all students to keep calm and orderly and make their way to the assembly hall. I repeat, all students must stay calm and make their way to the assembly hall.” The usual voice rang throughout the air above them, sounding just as unfeeling as ever.

*DONG DING DONG DING*

The students exchanged glances amongst themselves and slowly began making their way towards the main building.

“You think they'll cancel classes?” A girl asked.

“I hope so, I'm like, super traumatized and stressed about what just happened.” Another answered with exaggerated stress.

“Oh my god, like me too. I just can't focus right now...” The other matched her energy, the two then sharing a giggle--

“Keep up now.” Mark's voice hit him like a chill, accompanied by his shit-eating grin and a hand on his upper back urging him along. “You don't want to get crushed, now do you?”

Adam didn't answer him--

“Adam! Adam!” A sight for sore eyes swam through the crowd towards him, grabbing hold of his hand. “There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere! What's happening? Were those the bobbies?” Cassied asked, sparing Mark a glare before focusing on him again, her face washed in worry and confusion.

“I... Don't worry about it.” He tried to calm her, gently pulling her along with him amidst the unstopping sea. “The counselor did... something. So, the public guard came and took him.”

“Something? Like what?” She questioned, looking back at the gate.

“...We should know soon. Don't worry though, everything's fine.” He said, gently caressing the back of her hand with his thumb through their gloves.

“...Okay.” She sighed, glancing around at the crowd around them, and getting closer to him, her other hand holding onto... his arm...

Her hands were really warm... And so were his ears...

 

(...)

 

The students filled relatively orderly into the assembly hall, the teachers guiding them into “neat” lines and to their seats.

The director, a normally composed, sharp-looking, and cheery man, walked to the podium, his forehead covered in sweat and skin almost as white as the two enforcers standing behind him, along with a woman in a nice, white blazer, a pencil skirt, and heels... a spokesperson.

The director cleared his throat, and the whispering quickly subsided, all eyes now on him.

“Good morning, students!” He greeted with a shaky version of his usual smile.

“Good morning, Mr. Caruso!” The students greeted back.

Mr. Caruso cleared his throat again.

“I bet you all have questions regarding what just happened... So, I'll be frank and straight with you.” He paused and cleaned the sweat from his forehead with a neat looking hankershift “Mr. Harris, he... Conducted himself rather inappropriately; he... tried to hurt one of your classmates. As such, he was removed from the premises and is removed from his position effective immediately.” He explained.

The other students exchanged glances. He had tried to diddle someone, of that they were sure. Now the question was... who?

It wouldn't take them long to get their answer though.

“I will now concede the podium to... Ah...”

The spokesperson approached and took the microphone off the podium.

“Spokesperson NYC000005 will do, thank you, Mr. Caruso.” A cold, feminine voice said.

The director nodded and stepped away, sitting in a chair in the corner of the stage.

“As your director tried to clear up in an overly roundabout way, Mr. Harris was caught trying to engage in inappropriate and illegal conduct with one of your classmates. Fortunately, your classmate was able to recognize the signs and reported him through the appropriate channels.” The spokesperson said, gesturing to... someone specific in the crowd. “Nicole, come here.”

One by one, everyone turned their attention towards the girl in question, dissecting her as she slowly got up and quietly made her way to the stage.

She was small in every sense of the word. Short, thin, her head low, her presence almost imperceptible. Most of her was covered by a dark oversized hoodie with the hood up, and the rest by a pair of form-fitting pants and Converse.

“Her? But she's so... flat.” A girl a couple of seats behind them commented in a whisper.

“He's a pedo; of course he went for someone who looks like a kid.”

“Poor thing.” A girl further in the back commented. “How far do you think he managed to get?”

“From how they're describing, not that far. It sounds like she got wise and reported him in the blink of an eye, thank god.”

“So... Guess I was half-right...” One of the bet guys, sitting a bit to their left, tried to broker a deal with the other.

“Fine, I'll give you 10.”

“Yesssss!”

“Omg guys, the poor girl is probably going to be traumatized for life. Can you like, not?” A nearby girl scolded them.

“And? Me not getting my 10Cr is going to untramatize her?” He answered, a few of the other boys chuckling.

The whispering and commenting went quiet as the spokesperson cleared her throat.

“Nicole will now tell you about what happened, and we need you all to pay attention, so you can be fully aware of the extent of your counselor's crimes, support her adequately, and know how to recognize the signs yourselves in case this ever happens to you, either at school or outside of it.” She said, before turning to the small girl and handing her the microphone, “Here you go. Now tell them what happened, no need to feel ashamed, you did nothing wrong.”

“Y-y-yeah...” She stammered, what little could be seen of her face redder by the second as she grabbed the mic with both hands tightly. “Good mo-mornig... I... Yesterday I went to the office to... meet with Mr. Harris and... talk about some things that... I... Ah.... Yeah, so...”

Adam looked at Mark, who looked... displeased. He had been looking really satisfied with himself before, so why-- Framing the counselor and getting him arrested had been his plan, right? Well, it was working wonderfully, so why did he look like someone stole his meat? He knew they'd put the poor girl on the stage and make her talk, right? Did he forget to rehearse the story with her or--

A tightening sensation around his arm demanded his attention more.

Adam put a comforting hand over the one clutching onto his arm like a safety rope, earning himself a... sad glance from his sweetheart, before she leaned into him, their heads resting against one another's.

Nicole clumsily told the story Mark must have concocted for her. She went to talk with counselor about how creepy her mom's most recent ex had been with her, how he would constantly note she would one day grow into a pretty woman, how he couldn't wait for the day, how he'd sometimes just come into her room to talk uninvited and way overstay his welcome, his hands had lingered too much on her when they hugged, how he had smelled her, and commented that she'd look and feel much better if she started using lacy underwear, etc. She just wanted a reality check to know if that man, now kicked to the curb for getting caught sending pics to a barely legal girl, had been targeting her. Her mom always excused his behavior as him being socially awkward and wanting to form a bond with his new “way too ugly to attract even boys her age” and “attention and drama hungry” stepdaughter... So maybe, she was being paranoid, right?

“Her mother really said that? What the fuck?” A girl commented.

“Oh, nah yeah, I heard about shit like this. Pick mes will get a daughter and then bully the fuck out of her and even endanger her in their pursuit for male attention or some shit.” A boy elaborated.

“Ugh. Wait, what if the next one doesn't get caught in time? Nah, that bitch needs CPS called on her, what the fuck...”

But instead of reassuring her or confirming her suspicions, and maybe having a much-needed talk with her mother, assuming the whole creep ex-stepdad part of the story was true, the counselor started acting weird, looking at her the same way her mom's ex did and torching her shoulder... So, she reported him.

“And you did very well, Nicole.” The spokesperson congratulated her, gently taking the microphone from her hands. “Now, we do not yet know if Nicole was the first the perpetrator tried to harm, or if there were previous victims. All we can be sure at the moment is that, thanks to Nicole's courage, he will not be hurting anyone in the future.” She said, clapping her hands.

The enforcers joined in, the principal got up and followed suit, cueing the students with a glance, everyone slowly getting up and applauding her as well, cheers included.

...

The afternoon classes would be cancelled in favor of a crash course on how to recognize signs of criminal intent like grooming and inappropriate conduct that often precedes an assault. Along with basic self-defense and how to report incidents and concerns.

They even got gift bags. A shiv that could pass as a pen, easily concealable paper spray, a fancy personal safety alarm that would call the public guard to its location when triggered and record sound and image, and a couple of free call tokens that could be used to call the public guard from any payphone.

Adam got one for David too. Maybe they could use pepper spray next time, instead of sending people to the hospital and getting indebted to Mark...

Speaking of the Devil, it seems his plan worked flawlessly, clumsy performance aside... Now here's hoping the next counselor wouldn't get on their case and try to send Adam away, right?

Mark glanced at him, his satisfied smile growing a bit wider.

It seems either he was about to bring Mr. Jenkins back, fingers crossed, or get someone just as disillusioned with the protocol to take the role.

Whatever. It seems everything was under control and he had nothing to actually worry about at the moment.

Well, nothing except his husbandly duties...

Adam came back to the table and set the tea-filled glasses down, chamomile for him, ginger and lemon for his sweetheart, with four sugar packs... 

“Be careful, it's hot.” He warned, sitting down on the other side of the table.

“Thank you.” She mumbled.

The two quietly sipped their tea surrounded by the noisy cafeteria, Adam staring at her, trying to decipher her silence and blank expression.

...

Was she mad about what happened to Nicole? Or maybe just shaken that something like that could happen in a school? It wasn't really something unheard of, so... Or... Maybe...

Adam felt a weight growing on his chest.

...

He wanted to ask, but... Maybe he could try and check for any records later. England must have a TIJ site too, right--

She was frowning. She was definitely mad.

“She was lying.” Cassie caught on. “About the counselor at least.”

Adam remained quiet as she lifted her gaze towards him and took a long, slow sip of her tea. She... was dissecting him. He tried to keep it calm and...

“Adam... you wouldn't happen to have anything to do with this, would you?”

And just like that, he spilled the beans. He told her about what had happened with the counselor, how he had a talk with Mark about it to ask him a favor, to keep his punishments low-key, and...

“Adam, are you telling me an innocent man is about to go to jail because of... a favor?” She said judgmentally.

He-- It wasn't his fault. He did nothing wrong; he... He needed to be there. He couldn't be away in some mental health retreat. Mark would just find a reason to hurt them, and if he wasn't there-- Yes, falsely accusing someone was wrong, but... He needed to be there--

“Adam, was this all really Mark's idea or did you also contribute?” She asked.

“I only told him that if he punished me in public again, they'd take me away. He said he would think of a solution.” Adam retold. “I hoped he'd just keep his punishments low-key from now on, not... Yeah, don't know why I didn't expect him to do something like this.”

“...So, this isn't the first time he does something like this?”

“In general, no. He gets people in trouble all the time, as favors in exchange for IOUs. He also does other stuff, but mostly gets rid of people... It was the first time he did it on my request, though. I never asked him for favors before this.”

“So, you owe him now?”

“No, I paid him in advance by skipping class for the rest of the day.”

Cassie leaned in and rested her head on her hand, looking somewhere behind him.

“Did Nicole owe him one?” She questioned.

Adam looked back and saw Nicole, sitting at a table with a bunch of other, much taller and colorful-looking girls, visibly overwhelmed and on the verge of tears with a pile of snacks in front of her.

“I think so,” Adam answered.

Cassie lowered her gaze and went back to her tea, taking long, quiet sips before looking at him again.

“Is that normal over here? Putting a victim on stage and making them recount the whole harrowing experience?”

“Yes?” Adam confirmed. Was that not normal in England? “Why?”

Cassie stared at him, looking... tired and frustrated.

He... must have said something stupid.