Gabby

Here I am sitting outside the principal’s office once again. It’s only the first week of school, so it didn’t take long. I’m here so often, I have my own special chair, well, at least in my mind it is.

I’m not really sure why I always end up here. I have the best intentions. Like what happened today, and probably the reason I’m sitting outside Ms. Devlin‘s office. 

One of my sources saw these eighth graders, Ginny and Tommy, kissing in the corner of the library where they keep old reference books. They said it was disgusting. I don’t know why anyone would want to swap germs with someone else, but it’s juicy gossip. Why not share that information with others? They were kissing in public, so what’s the big deal if everyone knows?

I sure don’t know but again this is the type of thing that lands me in this office on a regular basis. I know everything that goes on here at old G.Washington. I make it my business. But today it was a bit quiet. 

Finally, a girl with pretty long blonde hair sits beside me, looking extremely down in the dumps. I can tell because she’s staring at her shoes and quite frankly, they don’t look that interesting – just plain black slipons. But let’s face it. She probably did something wrong or else she wouldn’t be here. 

She looks like one of those shy people so I’m going to have to engage her. 

“What are you in for?” I ask.

“Oh nothing. I just did something stupid,” she says solemnly, still staring at her shoes. 

“Welcome to my bench. I call it my bench because I’m here a lot. My friends call me Gabby. ”

“What do you mean you’re here a lot?” she asks, looking up for the first time. 

“Well, let’s put it this way. I like to know things and I think everybody else should know them too. Miss Devlin and my teacher Mr. Potts don’t agree. He doesn’t know how to deal with me so he sends me to Miss Devlin. I personally think he’s going through some kind of midlife crisis. I’m not really sure what it is, but it has something to do with being frustrated all the time, huffing at everyone and then buying a sports car.”

“But aren’t you afraid to get pulled into the principal’s office?”

“No, Miss Devlin is cool. She gets it,” I say. 

The truth is Miss Devlin does get it. She just keeps me out here in the outer office to give Mr. Potts some time to cool down and let me back into the classroom. She’ll call me in a little while and have the same talk with me. Some people don’t appreciate someone as forthright, transparent, and honest, like myself. That’s what Miss Devlin says. And she tells me that some people value their privacy and I shouldn’t gossip about them.”

As if on cue Miss Devlin walks out of her office in her smart pants suit. She’s tall like a model with creamy mocha colored skin and hazel eyes with long black hair. She’s definitely pretty. My mother said she wonders why someone hasn’t snatched her up. I think she’s too smart to hook up with any man. And too sure of herself. I bet she could be president one day.

“Miss Wilson, do we have to see each other every day?” She folds her arms and shoots me a crooked smile as she sits outside and leans against her open office door.

“I like you, Miss Devlin. I don’t mind coming in every day,” I laugh and she waves me into her office. 

“Goodbye whoever you are. I guess I didn’t get your name,” I lean over and whisper. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

“Lily, that’s my name,” she looks up and smiles at me. 

I walk into Miss Devlin‘s office and sit down. Her office is very sleek and comforting. It’s got a blue/ jade color on the walls. Just like a robin’s egg. 

Everything about her office is cool and eclectic. That’s a word I learned in a new book I read. 

Miss Devlin sits down and looks at me with that crooked smile, staring right into my eyes. 

“Wren, why did you have to tell everybody about those eighth graders in the library? Some people don’t like their stories broadcast to everyone in the school.”

I lean in and look her straight in the eyes. “Miss Devlin, you know what I’m going to say. If they don’t want other people to know… why do they do things out in public?” 

I can tell as she cracks a smile a little, that underneath she agrees with me, but she has to put on a professional persona for her position in the school. 

“That’s true, but Mr. Potts doesn’t like you to do it in the classroom. It interferes with his teaching when everyone’s giggling. If you have to be the information pipeline for the school, why not do it just at lunch or on breaks? You can still get your information and get your oral newsletter out, but it doesn’t interfere with Mr. Potts’ lesson for the day.”

“OK. But I think Mr. Potts would be overwrought no matter what somebody did. I think he’s going through a midlife crisis.”

She blurts out a laugh and gives me a surprised glance.

“Where did you hear that?” 

“Well, I was outside the teacher’s lounge and I heard Mr. Potts talking about his purchase of a new Mustang. I looked it up and it’s a sports car. My mom says men who are going through a midlife crisis buy sports cars.

“Wren, you should not be eavesdropping outside the teachers’ lounge. It’s not polite.”

It’s not exactly a confirmation, but I don’t think it’s a denial either. I’ll have to put that in the file cabinet of information in my brain. 

This is our tango. She tells me not to do something, even though secretly I think she likes it. I agree, even though I’m crossing my fingers behind my back. Then I go back to class.

It’s a bit tedious, but I don’t mind spending a little time with Miss Devlin so Mr. Potts can get his brain straight.

She laughs and waves me out the door.  “Ok, get back to class.”

(c) Suzanne Rudd 2025

Author note: Read more about Gabby in Jabberjaw. Coming this Summer.