I stared at the wall, preparing for a lecture. The water I was nervously sucking down burned my throat like tiny icicles, nearly matching the temperature of my blood. I looked down at my hands. They were shaking, clammy, and white, and I was sure that the rest of me looked the same way. I quickly wiped my free hand on my pants and took a deep breath. "Calm down, Clay," I told myself. What was the worst thing that could happen? The principal probably just wanted to discuss something else with my parents. It most likely had nothing to do with the fact that I'd just nearly blown up the chemistry lab while attempting to pull off a huge prank.

Durvey, being a large high school in a large town, has had its fair share of pranks. The longest running prank in the school's history has been the award for the "most memorable". Every year one student gets named "Most Memorable". They are voted for by the student body. The teachers think it has something to do with their personality or character or something, but everyone here really knows that they won the title by pulling off the biggest, most elaborate prank of the whole year. That's what I was trying to do the moment I stepped into the chem lab after seventh period. Rather than creating the most memorable moment, it was the worst mistake of my life.

"Clay," I heard a rugged yet stern voice say. A shiver ran down my spine. Of course the voice belonged to Principal Thomas. He was watching me with hawk-like eyes from the open doorway. "Please step inside." Hesitantly I got up, leaving my icy water bottle, and walked into the office. I'd been here too many times for my liking.

My father was sitting in one of the oversized chairs, an angry look on his face. I could see that one vein in his forehead pulsing. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly shut it again. My mother, thankfully, was looking a bit more calm. Her expression was emotionless. She sat there with her eyes on me and her lips pursed, waiting for my next move. I knew I was going to get an earful later.

"Please take a seat, Mr. Cortese." I pulled a blue plastic chair from a stack by the wall and set it next to my mother's, awaiting my punishment. "Now, Mr. Cortese, I assume you know why you're here." I thought for a moment to comply, but figured that it might be better to play dumb. Maybe they'd think I was innocent and let me go. "No, sir. I have no idea why I'm here."

Principal Thomas sighed heavily. This was obviously not the answer he was looking for. "Well then, Mr. Cortese, let me explain it to you. You are here because you've committed a very serious offense. Number one: You entered our school's chemistry lab without permission. There was no teacher present, therefore you were not permitted to be in there."

Maybe I'd get off with a warning. That would be nice.

"Number two - You decided to do your own little experiment in there for who knows what reasons. You mixed two chemicals that were clearly labeled not to be mixed."

Service hours. Detention. Saturday school. Maybe even a little summer work. I'd take anything.

"Number three - You put yourself and other students' lives in danger by creating a dangerous chemical reaction. The lab now requires thousands of dollars in repairs, money that we just don't have."

Wait, was I supposed to raise the money? That would take so much work. "Look, Principal Thomas-" I started. He held up a hand to cut me off.

"Let me finish. This is an extremely serious matter, Mr. Cortese. I'm sorry, but I have no choice but to expel you from Durvey High School."

"What?!" I nearly shouted, shocked. I looked over at my father, who was now a sickly shade of red. The vein pulsed more than I've ever seen. "Are you serious? This has got to be a joke. It was just a silly prank!"

"Mr. Cortese, what you do not understand is that your 'silly prank' has caused the school a great deal of damage!"

"Fuck this school!" I shouted, tipping my chair over as I stood. Principal Thomas leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow, shocked and displeased with my outburst. He said nothing more.

"Thank you," my mother said as politely as she could, though she was clearly upset. She shot me a look that could only be described as pure evil as if to urge me out the door. I didn't need to be told twice. Without looking back, I quickly walked from the room and down the sterile hallway. The corridor echoed with every footstep, and I could hear my mother's thin heels and my father's surly stomping following close behind.

My dad drove his own car, probably to the pub where he usually hangs out. My mom waited for me in her minivan while I emptied out my locker into my bookbag. It wouldn't normally take very long, but I dragged it out as long as I could so I wouldn't have to face their rage. I couldn't believe that I'd actually gotten expelled. If this didn't make me Most Memorable, I don't know what would.

As I exited the school, I turned to look at it one last time. I wondered if it would always look this way - old and boring. It made me worried about where I'd have to go next. Could it possibly be worse than Durvey High?

I held my breath as I slipped into the backseat of the van. As if it would help shield me from the pelting of words that was about to hit, I sank as low in my seat as I could. Surprisingly, no pelting came. There was no angry yelling or scorning. It was silent for a while, and the only sound heard was the humming of the engine on the open road.

After a while, my mother spoke up. "What in the world were you thinking, Clay?" Her voice was dripping with disappointment.

"That's just it, Mom. I wasn't thinking at all. I was just doing."

"Why did you do it?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry." I really was. If I knew that all of this was going to happen, I would have never gone into the lab. She just shook her head and there was silence again. I decided that the silence was almost worse than the words themselves. Once I started to get used to it, she spoke up again.

"I'm not going to send you back to school right now. There are only two weeks left and I have plenty of stuff for you to do around the house. Principal Thomas was telling me about another school for you to attend in the fall. He said that the graduation rate is very high and that everyone there is very smart. The tuition doesn't cost that much either."

I thought for a moment, disgusted with the fact that my mother was already bringing up other schools. "Tuition? You mean like a private school? With uniforms and everything?"

She was silent for another minute or two, carefully choosing the right words to say. "Well, yes and no. No uniforms, but it is a private school. Very prestigious. I haven't heard a single bad thing about this school. I was looking it up on my phone earlier and-" "Mom, not to be rude or anything, but I'm not going to a private school."

I could hear her blow a short breath of air out of her nose as she usually does when she's frustrated. "Clay, this is not up for discussion. You aren't really in a position to argue right now. I've already made the arrangements."

"Are you crazy, Mom? Really!?"

"Clay! I feel that this school will be very good for you. Maybe it will teach you a little respect." She pulled into the driveway and shut the car off, getting out without saying another word. I was stunned, frozen in my seat. How could this have happened?

I ran into the house and dropped my loaded bookbag on the kitchen table. My mom had already started cooking dinner. "Where exactly am I going?" I asked her, trying to keep my temper under control.

"Alexander Smith Preparatory High School."

Ew. I cringed at the name. It sounded awful. Without another thought, I ran up the stairs and threw open my door, dropping into my desk chair. I had to find out more about this school. What was so special about it? Why did my mom care about this one so much? I turned my laptop on and waited impatiently as it booted up. It was so slow sometimes. As soon as it turned on, I crashed my fingers down on the keyboard. I had to find out what this Alexander Smith whatever whatever school was.

I clicked on the first thing that came up. It led me to a website that was decorated with fancy writing and pictures of kids in sweater vests sitting around in patches of grass. They were laughing and smiling, but anyone could clearly see how fake it looked.

I scrolled down a little to read about it. "Alexander Smith Preparatory High School is a school of great excellence that strives to fine-tune students to become ready for the real world, blah blah blah..."

I clicked on a few other pages, hoping to find some useful information. One tab looked particularly interesting. "Room and Board" was what it said. After a few moments of reading, my heart stopped. This wasn't just a private school, it was a boarding school. My parents were looking to send me away. It couldn't get any worse.