Please not the paddle

Please not the paddle. Anything but the paddle. Other girls get paddled, not me. I’m a good girl. A good student. Anything else, not the paddle. I turned eighteen today. They can’t possibly paddle me, can they?

Beverly’s mind raced and raced. She tried to keep her hands and feet still but they seemed to have a mind of their own. Her palms were sweaty and her tummy was in knots. She needed to go to the little girls’ room, but she couldn’t go anywhere.

Maybe they won’t paddle me. I was just passing notes. Yeah I’ve gotten caught before, but it was just a note…nothing bad on it. They paddle girls for fighting and cussing and things like that. Ok. Maybe it won’t be the paddle. I can write lines….that wouldn’t be so bad. Or maybe even detention…..this is my first time, so maybe it will only be detention. The girl who had gone in to the principal’s office before her came out and went back to class. There hadn’t been any sharp “crack” of the paddle, and the girl was not crying like the girl before her had been.