Margaret Walks Across the High School Stage on a Warm June Morning
Arthur clicked the link, and a three-page document appeared on the screen, detailing the rules for public assemblies on school grounds.
“Section five,” Arthur read, his finger tracking the lines on the glass. “The administration reserves the right to restrict any decorum or presentations that deviate from the approved academic program.”
“That is the clause Vance is using,” I said.
“It is wide enough to cover anything he wants to exclude,” Arthur said, writing the resolution number on his pad with Olivia’s favorite blue pen. “It gives them legal cover to call any tribute a disruption.”
By eight the next morning, a thin mist hung over the high school parking lot as I walked up the concrete steps to return Olivia’s textbooks.
Principal Vance was standing by the double glass doors, his gold pen clipping onto his breast pocket as he spoke to Kayla.
“Your grades are excellent, Kayla, but your enrollment at Ohio State depends on a clean record,” Vance said, his voice formal and perfectly level.
Kayla stood her ground, her fingers gripping the strap of her backpack so tightly her knuckles were white.
