He hurried off down the hallway. I swallowed hard and called after him, ‘You know, most parents who come visit take their kids out to lunch. Or at least to Target to buy an ugly dorm lamp!’

He waved without turning around.

‘Fifty bucks?’

But my dad and his golf shorts had already disappeared around the corner.

‘Ms Heck?’

Father Hughes was standing in the doorway of his office.

‘Will you join me for a moment to finish up our conversation?’

I trudged back inside and plopped down on the sticky green leather again.

‘Well,’ the principal said, ‘it looks like you’ll be staying with us until graduation.’

‘Apparently,’ I said. ‘So my dad used to copy your homework back in the eighties, and now he’s bullying you into keeping me in school. You should really take one of those peer-pressure pamphlets from the nurse’s office.’

‘Your father explained your need for structure after some difficult years at home. He made a compelling case. But that’s not the only reason I agreed to let you stay. I still believe you have a valuable contribution to make to St Mary’s, Ms Heck. Besides –’ and here Father Hughes actually smiled – ‘as much as this may disappoint you, you are not the first nor the last St Mary’s student to be caught breaking curfew.’

‘Oh, so that’s the problem?’ I said. ‘I need to be more original and creative in my rule-breaking? Then you’ll kick me out?’

Clearly, Father Hughes was over me because he didn’t even answer. He just pulled out a different file and began making notes. ‘You may go, Ms Heck. Have a nice day.’

I jumped up, ripping my thighs from the green leather, and stomped past the wall of mosaics. St Hippolytus, being torn apart by wild horses, had a look of stubborn determination on his face. And I was determined, too. If it would take something shocking and unprecedented to get me kicked out of St Mary’s, I would do it. I would do something no student had ever done before – something so anti-St Mary’s that Father Hughes would have to send me back to California, even if my dad offered him a million dollars.

As I strode out of the office in my motorcycle boots, I put on my cat-eye sunglasses and mused:

Hmm, I wonder if I can get hold of a blowtorch …

3

The Long Huggers were still hugging.