Carrie's out sick again?" I asked my friend Kristin as we shoved our jackets into our lockers. "It's been a whole week!"

"I know," Kristin replied. "We should go visit her during lunch."

"During lunch?" I was surprised. At our school, students weren't allowed to leave school property without a parent's permission.

"Yeah. Why not?" Kristin said. "She lives right across the soccer field."

"I know, but it's against the rules," I protested.

Kristin gave me the look. "Are you kidding? It's not that big of a deal, Karen."

"Right," I said, trying not to sound like a wimp. "Yeah, let's do it."

I spent my morning classes thinking about our upcoming trek across the schoolyard. Two voices argued in my brain. First: We should just wait till after school. Then: But it would be great to surprise Carrie at lunch. And back and forth. By third period, the second voice had won out.

At lunchtime, Kristin and I met in the cafeteria. We gulped our sandwiches, bought a package of Oreos and a carton of orange juice, then headed outside. We wandered away from the building toward the basketball courts, where we paused to check out the cute boys—and to glance over our shoulders to make sure we weren't being watched.

"Walk fast, but not too fast," said Kristin. "And don't turn around." Easy enough. I was focused on keeping my heart rate under control.

When we reached the fence on the opposite side of the soccer field, Kristin handed me the bag of cookies and OJ. "Here, hold this while I climb over." She climbed easily over the chain-link fence and plopped down on the other side.

I tossed the bag over the fence to her and scrambled over. Thud! My feet hit the ground, and immediately I felt my heart rate start to slow down. Hey, this isn't so bad.

We jogged across a few backyards to Carrie's house and rang the doorbell. No answer. We rang it again and knocked. No luck. Kristin cupped her hands and peered through the little glass window in the door.

"She's probably sleeping," I said. "And both of her parents are at work." We scribbled a note to Carrie on a napkin and left it with the Oreos and juice on the welcome mat.

My nervousness had disappeared by the time we reached the fence again. What was I so worried about? I thought. That was fun. We climbed back over the fence just as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Perfect timing! If we hustled, we could catch up with the last few students heading inside. Kristin and I jogged across the soccer field and slowed to a walk once we reached the basketball courts.

That's when we spotted Mr. West. Our assistant principal had a face that looked like it had been chiseled out of stone. There he stood—arms folded across his chest, stony eyes staring straight ahead—at us. I froze. Kristin froze. We watched the last few students disappear through the door into the building, leaving the schoolyard empty. Empty except for Kristin and me. And Mr. West.

My mind started to race. I felt my mouth go dry. Sweat bubbled up on my hairline.

"Maybe he didn't see us climb the fence," said Kristin.

"Uhh, yeah … maybe not," I said, trying hard to believe that was a realistic possibility.

"Maybe he won't even say anything to us." Kristin tried again to sound hopeful. "Maybe he has to wait out here till everyone's inside."

Reluctantly, we started toward the school.

Mr. West didn't move an inch the entire time we walked toward him. The distance between the basketball courts and the school building seemed a whole lot farther than it had before.

As soon as we were close enough for Mr. West to talk without raising the tone of his voice, he spoke. His body didn't move, just his lips.

"I want to see both of you in my office. Now."

Then, finally, he moved. We followed. By this time, classes had started and the hallways were deserted. Our footsteps echoed, and I was sure Mr. West could hear my heart pounding. We passed room 115, the classroom I was supposed to be in. I'd never wanted to be in English class so badly.

Mr. West went into his office and told us to wait. We sat on cold, hard metal folding chairs for what felt like hours. Was this part of the punishment? The long wait gave me plenty of time to think. First I was mad at Kristin for suggesting we hop the fence. Then I was mad at myself for listening to her. Then I started wondering how I'd break the news to my mom about the detention I knew was coming.

Fortunately, it didn't come to that. I don't know if Mr. West was just busy that day, or if the terrified look on my face dislodged some pity stuck deep in his stony heart. Whatever the case, he finally called us into his office, gave us a stern lecture about staying on school grounds, and then sent us to class.

I walked to English class enjoying the feeling of sweet relief, but still annoyed. By the end of the day, though, all my anger toward Kristin had disappeared. I knew I had no one to blame but myself. Kristin wanted to break the rules.

I didn't. I should have stuck to my convictions and said no. If I had, maybe I would have influenced Kristin instead of the other way around.

As I think about it, I guess what happened to Kristin and me was a good thing. It made me think a lot about how much my friends can influence me, and how I need to stick to my values no matter what other people say or think. My friends are important to me, and I'll definitely listen to their advice and opinions sometimes. But when it comes down to it, I can't blame other people for bad decisions I make. In the end, it doesn't really matter why I decide to hop a fence—or cheat on a test, or lie to my parents, or drink at a party, or whatever—I'm always going to have to climb back over and face whatever consequences might be waiting … including a stony-faced assistant principal.

Read more from 'My Story'

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