Chapter 4

  When Sexism Actually Helps, But Doesn’t

  First day, and I’m already at the principal’s office.

  I guess I should have expected something like this to happen. My mind and body are all off kilter in this new life.

  I’m not certain if it is the different physiology, or an effect of hormones being released in a constant flood in my brain. Regardless of the reason, I’ve found myself having a shorter temper than usual. I’ve also found that I argue more than I wish.

  Like my argument with Sirenia earlier. Looking back on that moment, I feel like I could have been perceived as a petulant child, which I guess I am?

  That said, I don’t know why I found myself acting like that. I assume I was like that as a child in my first life, but that was so long ago that I thought I had outgrown that stage. Maybe that is all there is, all we can do is hope to outgrow puberty, and survive to tell the tale afterwards.

  Knock, knock.

  “Why hello, I was told that my charge is here?” The unmistakable draw of Sarina calls out from the door.

  “Oh, yes you are here in Miss Andry’s stead?” The principal, an intimidating female who stands easily over six and a half feet tall asks.

  Hearing her voice I don’t even turn around to look at her. I am so embarrassed. I shouldn’t have done it, I know.

  While she was bigger and stronger than me, and at least a year older, I still did a taboo. I hit a girl, multiple times.

  “Yes,” she answers, then I can all but feel her eyes bore into the back of my skull.

  “Misalla?” She cries out as she apparently sees something from the back of me that causes her to cry out in concern.

  “It’s Sal!” I hiss, not really sure why I chose this hill of all things to die on. Other than the fact that I hate being called by that name.

  “Right,” Sarina states in her overly calming way she would, if she was trying to calm a wild horse.

  I can feel her walking forward, each step a moment of concern that leads to the next. Then out of the corner of my eye, I can see her face drip to first shock, then fear.

  “What happened to you?” Sarina cries out as she goes over to me.

  Just looking at me, I could see her concern. I have a few torn buttons off the top of my dress shirt. My sweater is almost torn down the front. And my face has a scratch or two on it.

  In all, I will not last long.

  “What happened here?” Sarina demands going over to me and turning my face towards her. Just the slight cut on my lip from my own tooth, and the torn buttons. But she still feels the need to manhandle me.

  “I’m fine,” I cry out, and then without even thinking about it, I pull my hands that I had been hiding to that point within my pockets out and try to push away her hands.

  “Your hands, what happened to your delicate hands?” Sarina cries out, as she then grabs my hands and begins twisting. As she does, bloody scrapes and minor cuts can be seen.

  “Stop,” I cry out as I try to pull by my hands and once again place them in my pockets.

  Then a switch gets flipped in Sarina’s mind as her eyes go from overly caring to me, to outright angry at the principal.

  “What happened?” Sarina hisses.

  “There was an altercation with a girl from the upper classes,” the principal began trying to be as delicate with the process as possible.

  “A girl? You let my charge get attacked by a girl, and not just any girl but an older girl?” Sarina demands.

  Hearing her speak, I feel that I might actually have a chance. That this might not be so bad.

  “Staff was on hand to break them up, but only after the activity started, by the time my staff realized there was a problem, things had already escalated,” the principal began.

  “Escalated? Things escalated? You let a…” Sarina began. She was building up steam and righteous anger.

  If this kept up, I was certain that we could be out of here in no time, because for whatever reason the principal wanted nothing to do with the intimidating Sarina, who was close to half a foot taller than the principal. Her size and standing position making it so the principal herself had to stand to try to maintain some authority.

  “Tell them, I want to see the principal this instant!” An irate mother cried out. Hearing the vocal tones and inflection, I could only curse fate at making it so it was clear that this would not be a good time.

  “One second, let me see if she is busy,” a very flustered secretary called out from beyond the door.

  Knock, knock.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  There was a knock, and before anyone could respond, a flustered secretary entered the door and began to speak.

  “Principal Nef, Landrina’s mother would like to have a word with you,” the secretary began.

  Oof.

  Before being pushed out of the way by a very tall and muscular woman who clearly had unlocked her powers and done quite well on recent missions. While she wasn’t as tall a mom, she was slightly taller than even Sarina. Maybe seven feet, or just below. Either way, her presence, made it so that Landrina’s mother was now the tallest woman in this room.

  “Just what type of school are you running here, where my daughter will get so badly beaten that she loses a tooth and has two black eyes,” the muscular woman yelled out. As she entered, I like everyone else turned to stare at her.

  While she was entering a tiny shadow also entered in her wake. The little girl next to her I knew all too well, for she was Landrina, the girl who started this whole mess.

  This was not going to be good. The mother looks around the room, sees me, then seems to get even more outraged.

  “Where is she?” Landrina’s mother demands.

  “She?” the principal asks.

  “Yes, the girl who beat my poor Landrina so badly that she has a black eye and at least one missing tooth.”

  Looking at Landrina, it was clear that her jaw was still swollen, and a bit of blood had dried on her lip.

  Whistle.

  Yeah, of all the responses, Sarina who was just as captivated by all of this just whistled at the damage done to the poor girl.

  Of course, the poor girl is the one who started this whole mess, and could have avoided it, had she not been so handsy or demanded I pay the kissy tax. That part of our genetics has not changed, apparently, as girls here are far more interested in kissing than boys at young ages. The only difference here is that girls are at lot stronger and more capable of forcing their way, at least at first.

  I’m assuming they grow out of this phase, likely before it could be dangerous, but I don’t know. This planet sucks.

  “You too were hurt?” The monster of a woman, Landrina’s mother asks as she sees my face and comes over to see me.

  Seeing my torn buttons and my all but ripped sweater, it is clear that I too was in a scuffle. I freeze, seeing the big woman come close to me, knowing she could break my neck before I even had a chance to respond.

  I have my Intermediate Telekinesis barriers ready to react, but they likely won’t be able to protect me much from her. Maybe I could use the Intermediate Telekinetic appendages to hold her off long enough to drop down and roll behind Sarina. But even the normally tough and stoic Sarina seems to be at a loss with this woman. Landrina’s mother comes close and holds up her hand like she wants to grab my face, which I try to pull away from.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” she coos nicely to me. Hearing her, I let out a slight breath, as I realize she means it.

  My relief is short lived, for she immediately turns to the principal and demands, “now where is she, the girl who beat up my girl, who was apparently trying to protect this boy?”

  Silence.

  There is a long pause that seems to stretch on for eternity, before the principal begins.

  “Miss Oteranski, I think there might have been some confusion. This boy, is the one who fought with your daughter. A fight that all witnesses claimed was started by your daughter not letting him go, and threatening harm, unless he paid a quote, kissing toll.”

  “WHAT?” Landrina’s mother, Miss Oteranski, shouted before turning her head to face her daughter. A daughter who already looked pathetic due to bruises covering her face but now seemed to be cowering from her mother’s intense stare.

  “That’s not true, it was,” Landrina replied sheepishly.

  “What’s not true?” Miss Oteranski asks, a bit of her temper dropping as she seems to understand what her daughter is going to say.

  For my part, I really need to learn to control my emotional outbursts. That said, I hate being touched, and when she wouldn’t let go, well it was too much.

  “It was a Kissing Tax,” Landriana clarifies.

  “A Kissing Tax?” The mother clarifies.

  “Yes,” Landrina nods her head excitedly.

  “And that was a reason to start a fight with a boy?”

  “He started it?”

  “He did?”

  Every time this girl opens her mouth, I feel my life expectancy shortening.

  “Yeah, he wouldn’t pay the kissing tax, so I wouldn’t let him go, then he tried to push me away. That’s when I slapped him, doing as you told me. Only hitting once I am touched first,” Landrina began, but then seemed to get embarrassed before she continued, “that’s when he started hitting me until I finally let go.”

  Phew.

  Hearing her, I feel relief, as it was clear that I only struck as the victim, and even then I only fought until I was free. There is no way this monster of a woman would be mad at…

  SMACK!

  A powerful backhand comes out of nowhere causing Landrina to clutch her already swollen and sore jaw, before she dropped to the ground.

  Shock.

  I like everyone else, not named Miss Oteranski stares in shock at what just happened. She just hit her daughter.

  Then turning from her daughter to face both me and the principal the craziest thing happens.

  “I apologize, I swear I have raised her better than this. I tell her over and over again that you do not touch boys. I swear, I do not know where she got it from.”

  Yes, She apologized.

  She apologized to me, for her daughter losing. Well, not losing. Apparently, this was the fact that I am being apologized to due to sexist mentality, or the fact that this poor girl just got embarrassed in front of the school and now is being punished again by her own mother.

  “Had you not lost so badly, I would beat you black and blue myself,” Miss Oteranski declares as she stares down her daughter. A daughter who can only clutch her jaw in pain while staring up with watery eyes.

  “Don’t look at me like that, he is a boy. Furthermore, he is half a foot shorter than you. You do not put your hands on boys,” she stated again. This time she just shook her head clearly trying to contain her rage at her daughter. Then realizing she had just performed the equivalent of domestic violence in a school, she turns back to the principal.

  “Will there be any punishment for her?” Miss Oteranski asks.

  Blinking.

  “Yes, we have a strict zero tolerance policy on violence towards males. Particularly by older females, we must uphold the standards.” The principal declares.

  WHAT?

  I almost want to shout, but all I can do is stare on in horror about how this backwater sexist planet apparently deals with school fights.

  “I’d say be lenient on her, as this is her first time, but I don’t know what to say in her defense.” The mother answers.

  Wow, even thrown under the bus by her own mother.

  “We are afforded some leeway, but unfortunately three days is the least we can offer for such an offense.” The principal offers.

  “I fully understand, and you will not hear a complaint about this from me. But to be clear she can be back by Friday?” Miss Oteranski asks.

  “Yes, Friday at the earliest.”

  “Well, she will be here, and in a much better mood to learn and appreciate the opportunity that she has to learn while here.” Miss Oteranski says to the principal before reaching forward and shaking her hand. Then with that done, the scary woman turns to me.

  Seeing her, I instinctively lean back as I prepare for anything. This woman is clearly unhinged. I mean she just smacked her own daughter in front of witnesses. Then again, that does help me to understand the culture a bit more. This is a barely above eighteenth-century mentality world.

  “I truly am sorry that you had to endure this, I can assure you that it will not happen again.” Miss Oteranski is speaking to me, but her entire head and face are pointed towards her daughter who only quivers slightly.

  For a moment, it looks like that will be enough to solve everything, that the moment is now over.

  Then of course that is when Miss Oteranski seems to remember Sarina. Turning back to Sarina, she continues even further.

  “I am so sorry about this, this will never happen to your son again, I promise.” Miss Oteranski apologizes while offering her hand to Sarina. Sarina for her part looks flustered for a moment, before shaking the offered hand.

  “Oh, this isn’t my son. He is my charge,” Sarina clarifies.

  “Your charge?”

  “Yes, my Master, Miss Andry, has asked me to take care of her first born.” Sarina clarifies.

  “Miss Andry?” Miss Oteranski asks, before turning to face me. Then as if dawning recognition hits her she nods and replies, “I see.”

  Then quickly breaking her handshake from Sarina she turns to her daughter and all but yanks the muscular girl from the floor.

  “Come on, we need to begin your suspension,” Miss Oteranski tells Landrina as she all but drags her out of the room.

  “Ouch, you are hurting me,” Landrina’s voice could be heard from the hallway.

  “This is what you get for fighting a boy, and then losing,” there was a slight pause, before Miss Oteranski continues, “but it is a good thing you did lose, as do you know who his mother is?”

  Muffled response.

  At this point the two are far enough down the hallway that I can’t make out anything else they are saying. Seeing the recognition within Miss Oteranski’s eyes, and hearing her comments to her own daughter about losing, lets me wonder if my mother might be more of a big deal than I knew.

  There is a pause as everyone stares out the doorway for the two. Then finally once all sound of a final slamming door could be heard, we turn our attention back to the principal.

  Hearing that I have the next three days off, I mentally prepare for how I will get the most out of my new free time. At least, that was what I planned to do. However, it seems that sexism doesn’t pay.

  “Again, I apologize that such an event happened here, know that you can trust your boy here, and we will make sure to protect him from females. His virtue will be protected at all costs,” the principal begins.

  “Wait? I am not suspended?” I ask, wondering what happened to the minimum punishment and all that.

  “You, no. You are the victim in all of this, why would we punish you. Particularly when the aggressive female upper classman began the altercation.”

  And like that, I finally found one instance where sexism finally paid off, but even as it did, I still lost.

  Then not for the first time today, I found myself thinking. This world sucks.