Melonie was, without a doubt, as big a troublemaker as her Dad had been in high school. Of course, in very different ways. She wasn’t rebellious against authority or disruptive. She was a very good student. She just happened to pick fights and they would occasionally take place in the middle of class.
Which was how she found herself in the situation of waiting in her teacher’s classroom for her Dad to show up. The boy she’d fought had been sent to the nurse since his injuries had been more severe than hers. Her Dad had taught her how to avoid hits and where to inflict the most damage. The worse injury she had was a few bruised knuckles.
She looked up as the door opened and her Dad walked in, dark oil coating his hands and shirt since he’d come straight from work. He didn’t look angry, more resigned. This was wasn’t the first time Melonie had done something like this and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
“Before we start, I want to say how sorry I am about all of this,” he said sincerely.