1 Detention Buddies

"You have got to be kidding me."

I would curse everyone in that media room, if I could, but I was certain it would only worsen the situation. I wasn't one of those who failed to meet the deadline for Ms. Rivera's class, but I was among those who'd be punished just because I was partnered with a lazy girl.

Life was no fair, and that was the story of my life. At least for the past three of its eighteen years.

"Sorry, Zoey." Maria raised her shoulders and tried to be cute with me, grinning and swaying her body from side to side. I wanted to rip her beautiful brown hair off her pretty head, but I went against it and turned away. Not only was she three inches taller than my five foot five, she also had a clique of camouflaged bullies, whom I really didn't want to mess around with.

Holding on to the nearest table, I let out heavy breaths of annoyance and sat back down on my seat. There wasn't anything I could do right now but accept my fate, no matter how stupid it had turned out to be.

I knew the very moment I saw her she would be trouble, but I was nice enough to accept her as my partner for this media project since she was the one who came to me and asked. I agreed, even after being warned by several of my classmates who had already worked with her in the past.

Meh, how bad could it go, I thought. I usually worked alone, so if Maria decided she wasn't in the mood to be recognized as our freshmen year ended, it would work out well still for me. I expected to do most of the work, anyway. But possible failure or detention at the last moment? I really didn't see that coming.

"How are you going to detain us if this is the last week of classes?" Dana, one of my more outspoken classmates, asked Ms. Nancy Rivera, the only Filipino teacher in the media arts program.

Being outspoken wasn't the only reason she protested. With the Annual International Schools' Sports Fest coming in the week after next, her chances for badminton victory would go from almost full to non-existent, and her months of training, a waste.

Ms. Rivera rounded her table and looked at each of us with her brown eyes. She flicked her long, curly hair back and took a deep breath. Only eight of us in a class of twenty-eight stayed behind to plead for our freedom. A few days before the vacation, the end of our first year in college, and then this!

"I don't want to fail you the course. I guess you could submit the requirement tomorrow," she said, her eyes soft behind thick glasses.

There was a collective sigh of relief in the room, but the feeling that came with it was short-lived, because she added, "But I will be asking each of you to do community service during the sports fest. In return for the consideration."

Fine by me. I was really going to cover the event, anyways.

Ms. Rivera excused herself and texted someone quickly, moved to the board when she was done, and mapped out a volunteer plan for each of us during the last week of sports fest preps and the actual sports fest week. The idea was to help out the student councils of both Reagan, what we called the girls' side of the school, and Berkeley, the boys' side, so they wouldn't have a hard time juggling to check the needs of the athletes.

The sports fest was a big event for the Berkeley-Reagan International School, given that it hadn't lost the honor of being called the over-all champion for the past seven years. This year, we're even hosting it. It was home advantage, as they kept saying.

When I next looked at the board, each of my classmate's names was written on it, except mine. I had half a mind to rejoice. Perhaps Ms. Rivera had seen my misfortune and came up with the conclusion that I deserved a break. But that was a little impossible, even for someone who had never questioned my abilities, so I raised my hand and asked.

"Oh, you'll be given something a lot more special than this, Zoey," Ms. Rivera said with a smile. I didn't like her smile. It was telling me to be cautious. I sat there, all bodily functions frozen, except for the loud beating of my heart.

"I will see you around," she announced finally and everyone else was out.

Maria stayed a few seconds longer and apologized to me again. She looked sincere, but it still didn't eliminate the intense annoyance I felt right now, thinking about how this was all because she wasn't able to have the poster that I made printed out. Just have the freaking poster printed out! That was all she ever had to do for the whole of this semester to get her butt to sophomore year, and she didn't do it! I did the mini-film that came with it. Geez!

"What happened?" Ms. Rivera asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. There wasn't any use blaming Maria at this point. The act would just backfire, if I ever did it. "Miscalculation, I guess," I said, with a shrug of the shoulders for effect.

"I know you. You are part of the Reagan Media Club for a reason, and miscalculation isn't in of your vocabulary." She let out a breath and leaned against her table. "I will have to give you something special to do from here on, just like what I said."

I waited for it.

Ms. Rivera was also the Reagan Media Club adviser, so I was certain she'd have me go through a lot, like during the newbie screening. But she didn't exactly speak. The door answered for her. In the next second, our club president, Kori, was standing there with a Berkeley boy so familiar I thought I would die.

"Geovanne. Meet your media and detention buddy. Zoey Penelope Anderson."

There he was. The exact copy of the guy I still dreamed about each night in my sleep.