Britney slouched in the blue leather chair, arms crossed tightly over her chest, face scrunched into a scowl. She was eighteen. An adult, sitting in the principal's office like a goddamned kid because that hag, Anderson, had it out for her. Britney wasn't the only one to have drawn on that desk. But she was the only one sent to the office for it. She huffed. Principal Porter sat in his chair on the other side of his massi...