Parker had been in trouble frequently at Hillworth. 'Frequently' was probably an understatement. All the ******** time was much more accurate. The first day he moved in, his roommate stole all the headphones from the meager computer lab and hid them in the closet of their bedroom. When the administrators did a random room check, they found them there, stashed inside of the luggage that Parker Damhnait had used to move the few things he owned into the school. He was in detention that same day, and before he even got the chance to prove himself, he was labeled a ‘troublemaker.’

That label never had quite come off.

Now, with his nightly senshi patrolling slowly turning him comatose during the school day, administration had another reason to be worried. He asked to go to the nurse all the time, but would just pass out on the stiff cot for the rest of the day. He skipped lunch to nap. He used bags of mulch as pillows during physical education. When it earned him detention, he said nothing. Detention meant nap time now.

Hillworth Administration was very concerned.

It was the school nurse who said something first, asking that they keep an eye on him. Then his hated history teacher stepped in to point out the multitude of offensive essays he had handed in recently. One by one, all of his teachers agreed that there was something wrong, and that they knew what it was. They called a meeting and gave Parker three days notice.

At the time, he didn’t worry about it. He was probably just being evaluated before graduation. They did that from time to time with behavior problems, but as he pushed through the heavy door into the front office on the assigned day, Parker felt a lump rise in his throat. The secretary behind the desk eyed him warily and then waved him inside.

In the next room, there was a chair for him. On the other side of the room, there was a table with his principal, his history teacher, and the school nurse. The principal smiled, but Parker did not feel comfortable.

“Mr. Dammit, please have a seat.”

“Dev-NAHT,” he corrected, slumping into the chair. “It’s not dammit, as in: dammit, this is a waste of my time.” The principal stiffened. Parker added, “For example.”

It wasn’t like him to be openly disrespectful, but he was tired. He was always tired. No need to spare them from his irritation. The principal steepled tense hands in front of a crisp suit jacket. “Okay, Parker. We’re here to talk about certain developments in your life, developments that we find a little concerning.” The nurse nodded, eyes wide.

Parker waited, but they said nothing. He propped an elbow on the arms of the chair and laced his fingers together. “Well,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “don’t leave me in suspense. I’m sure you all have much better things to do to serve this fine institution than talk to the likes of a terribly irresponsible troublemaker like me.” There was no smile in his voice, or on his face.

After failing to get into college, Parker decided that it was all Hillworth’s fault. Being a senshi was more important to him than school now too. So what could they do to him? They thought he was a smug a** who raised hell at the school. Maybe he should give them a taste of the person they thought he was?

The principal frowned, but the history teacher snapped into action. A clenched fist slammed a clear hard plastic cup on to the table. “You’re on drugs, Dammit, and we all know it. Now piss in the cup.” The nurse looked shocked.

Parker stared at the cup. Then the nurse. Then the history teacher. Then the principal. He addressed the latter, “Excuse me, do you know what the process is for filing sexual harassment charges against an instructor?” He flickered his eyes to the history teacher. “One of my noble teachers has just demanded that I perform a lewd act.”

All three administrators began to speak at once, but it was the nurse who won the battle for verbal dominance. “Parker, just go in the cup, and then this’ll be over, okay?” Parker bickered back and forth with them. He demanded to see the documentation that said they could force a drug test on him. He accused the principal of profiling him for being intelligent and uninterested in the mindlessness of the school. He said that he would do it only if the three of them did it too. (This made the history teacher look away, Parker noted.) In the end, the principal threatened that if he didn’t pee in that cup in the next five minutes he would be repeating his senior year.

So Parker peed in the cup.

The principal explained that it would take a day or two for the urine sample to be fully tested. If he was found with drugs in his system, he would be remanded to a rehabilitation facility. Parker narrowed his eyes. “My father is a ******** drug addict,” he spat. The nurse bristled at his language. “You know that, you’ve read the damn file, as you’ve so kindly mentioned a thousand times. So do you have any idea what you are accusing me of?” His cheeks burned red. Parker would not accept being compared to his father, could not.

The principal fixed him with a serious look. “Parker, studies show that the children of addicts are statistically more likely--” His words were deafened by the sudden squeaking of Parker’s chair against the floor.

Parker was done talking. He was done listening too. He was ******** tired, and they had just crossed a line so deep it was racing the Mariana Trench for world records. They had his piss. Let them do what they wanted with it.

The nurse looked worried. The history teacher started to stand, but the principal reached out a hand and stopped anyone from chasing after Parker. “Let him go,” the principal said. Then to the nurse, “Run the test. I want the results ASAP.” The little cup of urine was passed her way.

Parker Damhnait was not on drugs. At least not the kind that a urine test would detect. They would learn that soon enough. And then what? Would they keep searching for skeletons in his closet? Parker refused to think about it, not then. He was blinded by rage and too weary to do anything but collapse in his bed and drift off to sleep.