Aaron entered the living room, dressed in his school uniform, ready for his first day of school.
He noticed that Ivan was ready for his job as a professor at MIT in a sharp navy blue suit as well, sipping a cup of coffee.
Annette on the other hand, was still in her bed-clothes consisting of an over-sized gray sweatshirt and sweatpants, hunched over the table, nursing a hangover. Ivan downed the rest of his coffee and got up from the table. "Ready for your first day?" he asked Aaron.
"Won't Mother be late? Her school starts today as well" asked Aaron, looking at Annette's form slumped over the table.
"I took the liberty of calling the school and letting them know she is sick," said Ivan, shaking his head at Annette's slumped-over form.
He tossed Aaron the keys to the BMW M5. "You drive till we reach St. Ignatius" he said.
----
Aaron carefully pulled into the St. Ignatius Academy parking lot, and was about to get out, when a silver Mercedes-Benz convertible screeched to a halt in front of the BMW M5, blocking their exit.
A girl wearing a silver hoodie and white yoga pants instead of the uniform, got out and marched towards the driver side of the BMW M5.
"You in my spot!" she snarled at Aaron as he partially rolled down the window.
"We will be moving soon miss, would you please move your car so that my father can pull out of the parking lot?" asked Aaron.
His response seemed to greatly offend the girl. "Oh, is gonna be like that? Li'l white boy thinks he can steal my spot? A-right," she said going back to her car and pulling out a large chrome baseball bat.
"Hey, Ivy brat! Let's settle this street style!" she shouted, brandishing the bat threateningly.
Aaron quickly rolled up the window and started the BMW M5, the engine giving a powerful rumble. He turned the steering wheel left as far as it would go and buried both the throttle and brake pedals into the carpet. The car's engine let out a bestial roar, its body rocking back and forth. The girl froze as she stared at the powerful black car straining against its brakes.
The noise attracted campus security and two burly guards tackled the girl, the bat flying out of her hands.
"This shit ain't over! Think you can threaten me? I'm protected! You goin' down boy!" she screamed as a beefy African American guard zip-tied her hands behind her back.
"Shut it Mamba! You're in trouble enough already!" snarled the guard as he hauled her away.
"Are you all right?" asked the other Latin-American guard looking at Aaron in concern.
"We're fine sir. Is this Ms. Mamba's spot? There were no reserved parking signs," said Aaron.
"Who was that girl?" asked Ivan, still shaken by the incident.
"That was Mamba Waziri. The less I say about her, the better," sighed the guard.
He gave the BMW M5 an appreciative whistle. "Is that an F90 M5?" he asked.
"Yep, with a sleeper GT tuning package, this puppy is a rocket wearing a family car body," chuckled Ivan.
The guard whistled again, before he remembered his job, and forced his features back into a stern expression.
"You were revving to scare her? It's not as simple as the movies kid, even the smallest scrape would have set off the airbags, and worst case you'd have hit her anyway." he warned.
"Perhaps, but it was the only solution I could think of before she decided to vandalize my father's car," said Aaron.
"Aaron! It's all right! A couple of broken headlights and dents is not worth getting into trouble over! That girl could have seriously gotten hurt!" admonished Ivan.
"Don't worry sir. Thanks to Aaron's revving, we intervened before things could escalate, that's our job," said the guard.
"What about Aaron? Is he going to be in trouble? I'll take full responsibility for this incident," said Ivan, wrapping his arms protectively around Aaron.
"No trouble now, but don't let him drive until he's legal. Prodigy or not, that car's an old-school beast," warned the guard.
"Well then sir, can you please move Ms. Mamba's car so that my father can get to work?" asked Aaron, slinging on his backpack and getting out of the car.
"Sure kid, off you go to class," chuckled the guard as Aaron nodded to Ivan and left.
----
"He cut me off first, and when I tried to confront him, he-he called me the N-word! And then he tried to run me over with his car!" sobbed Mamba as she sat in the Principal's office, flanked protectively by her parents.
Next to them, stood a large woman in a boxy black pantsuit with a political pin on her front pocket.
A vein throbbed in Father Joseph's forehead as he listened to Mamba's story.
"Let me assure you that we take this matter very seriously, Mr. and Mrs. Waziri," he said.
"In that case, has the school expelled the boy?" demanded Mamba's mother.
Father Abel stepped forward. "Of course we will not expel a student without due process. So I would like you all to review the security footage of the incident with me," he said, gesturing to the large monitor on the wall.
"Eh... I think we can skip that," said Mamba nervously, as the monitor sprang to life, showing the empty parking lot in full color and high resolution.
The footage showed the BMW M5 enter the lot, and smoothly reverse into a parking spot marked by raised concrete blocks to prevent cars from parking too close to each other. Seconds later, Mamba's Mercedes-Benz convertible skids to a halt in front of the BMW M5, blocking it in.
"Um, Mom, Dad, can we just go home? I don't wanna see this," quavered Mamba, as she saw herself pull out the baseball bat and threaten the M5.
Father Abel hit the pause button, and turned to Mamba's parents.
"Not only is Ms. Mamba here out of uniform," he said, gesturing to Mamba's silver hoodie and white yoga pants, "St. Ignatius Academy has zero tolerance for bullying and violent threats, especially with weapons involved," he said firmly.
"That video is cooked! You ain't got shit!" shouted Mamba's father springing to his feet.
"Calm down, Mustafa. Father Abel, was it? Look at the optics for a minute. What would the public think of you expelling a vulnerable and marginalized girl for not wearing your outdated uniform and being traumatized by a fellow student on her first day?" asked the woman with the political pin.
"Senator Clarke, I assure you that we are handling this matter with the utmost care and consideration for all parties involved," broke in Father Joseph.
"Well, in that case there is nothing further to discuss. This was all a simple misunderstanding. Let Mamba return to her class and close this matter," said Senator Clarke.
"One moment please," said Father Abel. He opened the door and retrieved Mamba's chrome baseball bat from the campus security guard outside.
"This bat was retrieved after the incident in the parking lot," he said, before swinging it without warning.
Everyone flinched backwards as the bat smashed into the wall, leaving a small crater and visible cracks in the plaster.
"Now, imagine that this all metal bat had hit Mr. Zakhrov's car, or worse, Mr. Zakhrov himself," said Father Abel calmly.
"Well, what about that punk callin' my daughter the N-word?" demanded Mamba's mother.
"Fortunately, our security system records sound as well as video. Let's review shall we?" asked Father Abel, rewinding and resuming the footage, this time turning the volume up.
A vein throbbed in Senator Clarke's temple as she heard the argument play out between Mamba and Aaron.
Mamba had started to cry as she heard herself threaten Aaron with the bat.
"This is some entrapment bullshit! That punk nearly turned my baby into roadkill! Why ain't he bein' grilled?" demanded Mustafa, his face flushed with anger.
"Entrapment? How about I beat your ass with this bat and see if any bones don't break? Huh? Wanna settle this street style?" snarled Father Abel, brandishing the bat. Mustafa jumped back and cowered as the bat swung near his face.
"All right, that's enough! Father Joseph, Think of the optics. If you expel Mamba, it will look horrible for the school. I suggest you let her stay and receive counseling," said Senator Clarke.
"Counseling? You're lucky she's still in the Principal's office, and not in the precinct!" scoffed Father Abel, earning a glare from Senator Clarke.
"Abel! That's enough!" snapped Father Joseph. He stood up.
"I'll give Ms. Waziri a three-day suspension, and when she returns, she will be required to wear the school uniform and attend counseling sessions with Father Abel. Furthermore, if she brings such a weapon to school again, she'll be expelled on the spot. Do we have an agreement?" he asked.
"Nu-uh, I ain't givin' up my bat!" shouted Mamba.
"We ain't livin' in some white-bread suburb! We in the hood! Mamba got a right to defend herself!" shouted Mustafa.
"Oh give me a break! Mamba's convertible easily costs a hundred grand! You expect me to believe that you're in the hood?" asked Father Abel.
"Father Joseph, It is clear that Father Abel is biased towards Mr. Zakhrov and against Ms. Waziri. His conduct is only increasing the systemic harm towards Mamba. I demand that he be removed from this case," said Senator Clarke, glaring at Father Abel.
"Get out, Abel," snarled Father Joseph,
"Careful Joseph, somebody might get killed the next time," warned Father Abel,
"Get out!" shouted Senator Clarke, her face flushed with anger.
Father Abel sighed and left the office, closing the door behind him.
"Is Mamba going to walk Father Abel?" asked Javier, the campus security guard stationed outside, as Father Abel handed him the bat.
"I hope not," said Father Abel grimly.
The door to the Principal's office opened, and Senator Clarke stormed out, followed by Mamba and her parents.
"Hey, Spielberg! You better watch your back!" Mustafa threatened Father Abel, following behind Senator Clarke with his arms around Mamba.
"Abel! Get in here!" shouted Father Joseph, his voice booming through the hallway.
Father Abel sighed and stepped back into the office.
"This is the last time you turn my office into a courtroom, Abel. Pull this kind of stunt again, and I'll have you suspended," snarled Father Joseph.
"What about Mamba?" asked Father Abel.
"Her parents have voluntarily withdrawn her, thanks to your shenanigans. And I'm feeding you to any wolves Senator Clarke brings on us," growled Father Joseph.
"Bring it on, Joseph. I can handle myself," said Father Abel, his eyes narrowing.
"Relax, Abel. I'm just giving you a heads-up. I already was leaning towards throwing those idiots out, it's one less headache for me," said Father Joseph, his tone softening slightly.
"You had me worried there for a moment," chuckled Father Abel, shaking his head.
"Yeah well, find out what makes Zakhrov tick. We can't afford another incident like this one," said Father Joseph, his tone serious.
Father Abel nodded and left the office.