“What a shame,” I shake my head. All it took was waking up a minute earlier in the morning. That’s all it really took. But no,

it’s been almost a minute

since the bell rang and half the students haven’t bothered to show up yet.

“How come you’re late?” I question bitterly.

“Good morning Mr. P.C. principal,” Carter yells as he runs towards the school building.

Sadly for him it wasn’t going to be such a good morning . I’ve absolutely had enough.

“How come you’re late?” I question bitterly.

“I’m so sorry, my mom had to, you know, drop off my four other siblings, right after getting home from her morning shift to drive us, and I-”

As I shut the door in Carter’s face, I no longer need to listen to the b.s. excuses anymore.

Unacceptable.

I truly don’t know what to do, and yet I can’t leave Carter outside all day.

“Think P.C. think,” I whisper to myself, as though it would help me come up with something. The number of students behind the locked doors are starting to multiply by the second. On top of this mess, I still haven’t done the morning announcements - that’s it, the announcements!

Running towards my office, I start to articulate my lines. The plan is simple: every morning I will gather all the late students together, as a punishment for being late, yet simultaneously expose them to my brand new outfits daily.

“Attention students, unfortunately, due to a high lack of a sense of responsibility within our student body, it has been decided to lock school doors when class begins, in order to hold all students violating our schedule accountable,” I announce, completely ignoring the actual announcements I was supposed to make.

Filled with excitement, I rush back to the front of the school, crowded with hopeless faces peeking through the windows. With a smirk on my face I open the doors, only to be immediately overwhelmed with harsh comments.

“This is beyond ridiculous!”

“We’re missing so much of class!”

“You’re not allowed to do this!”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t been late, you could’ve made it to class on time, but clearly

you don’t even understand

the consequences of your disrespectful actions,” I scream, quieting all the complaining mouths.

“Everyone, make two parallel rows in front of the school immediately” I order while walking out. I’ve finally discovered the only solution to gathering students together on days we don’t have an assembly, to help them witness a true sense of fashion. Yet I can’t expose my true intentions either, otherwise I could kiss my job goodbye.

Walking up and down the two lines of students facing me, I make sure to constantly turn in circles to show off the brand new Fenty Puma shorts, with the small polar bears representing my hometown in Antarctica. By doing so, it appears as though I’m trying to create eye contact with each juvenile, yet I’m actually successfully giving everyone a chance to admire my flawless taste in fabric.

The words and sentences I was forming on the

unofficial “runway”

soon start to become irrelevant, but I know at one point I mentioned very important real life connections, such as being late to a job interview or going to the doctor when it’s too late; perfect examples with the exact same repercussions as being tardy to school.