The Losers and the Detention (Part 1)

"That girl just can't take a hint."

The aforementioned girl stood in the doorway, eyebrows creasing slightly as the rambunctious conversations from earlier turned quiet. Friends huddled closer together, dropping their heads low to whisper in each other's ears. Aubrey kept her gaze level, glaring in the direction of whoever was too unrestrained in their gossip and causing them to shrink back. It had the opposite effect on the guys; they leaned forward to try to get a better glimpse. Creepy? No doubt, but if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. After all, she did look damn good in the tank top that bunched up to highlight her stomach and thigh-high shorts that left little of her legs to the imagination. I didn't entirely buy into the rumors floating around about her, yet, I had to admit, the way she dressed and her dyed pink hair did give her a certain image.

Her shoes clacked against the wooden floor, and I found myself glancing away when her blue eyes scanned over the area I was in. She muttered something incomprehensible, and then there was a scrape of the chair being pulled away from the desk. Aubrey settled in her seat, allowing the bag hanging off her bare shoulder to slip off her arm and smack into the corner of the desk. That didn't seem to faze her in the slightest, and she pulled out her phone from her front pocket, setting about tapping on the screen. 

Everybody suddenly felt much more comfortable returning to their former conversations, and the room became lively again. Behind Aubrey, Nicole–the one who had instigated the entire thing–clicked her tongue and strode to the front of the classroom where her cronies awaited her.

Kenna tapped her acrylic nails on the top of her desk. "Seriously, she should just get over him at this point. It's embarrassing."

"For real. She's the biggest slut ever," said Sophia. "She should be more like you. Nobody likes someone who can't take a hint."

An unreadable expression crossed her face as she brushed back a strand of her dark hair. It was gone in the next instant, replaced by a sickening smirk that matched theirs. That wasn't quite right, though. Even as she laughed and joked, the smirk on her lips was strained. Tense. Like she was going to lash out or run away any second now.

Who knew a piece of shit like her could make a face like that?

A sudden elbow jabbed into the leg of my desk drew my focus to the boy in front of me. "It's been tense in here recently, huh?"

He was half turned around, resting his pudgy cheek on his fist, and lips upturned slightly. His unkempt hair hid his eyebrows from view, reaching past his ears. There was a slight red hue to his cheeks, and his breaths came out in gasps despite having done nothing to exert himself.

I hummed a soft affirmance, hoping Brian would get the hint I wasn't interested in this conversation right now. Subtlety never had been his strong suit. He slammed an open hand on my desk, drawing a fair bit of gazes our way. I gulped nervously, forcing myself not to duck my head. 

"But enough about that. Did you see the latest episode of Magical Girl: Rising? The final battle between–"

A hollow laugh cut him off, and I could feel my palms becoming slick with sweat. He had attracted the group of three's attention. Their smiles had become sharper, and it was obvious they were watching us. They hadn't been able to bully Aubrey into submission and win the approval of the class, so they were hardly going to waste this opportunity.

"I don't watch–"

"Alright, kiddos. Talking time is over. Shutting up time is upon us." The clack of heels down the middle aisle between the rows of desks announced our teacher's arrival. Her face was pale and there were dark circles under her eyes, to say nothing of her nearly stumbling every few seconds. Upon touching the podium, she slumped across it, trusting the rickety metal frame to support the entirety of her weight. "It's been a crap morning already, so I don't need any more from all of you. Any questions, comments, concerns?"

Nobody said anything, and she somehow slunk further down the podium. "Great. Aubrey, put the phone away."

The girl didn't bother looking up. "Don't want to."

She snorted in response. "And there's a lot of things I don't want to do either like having to show up for work or bother with teenagers and their cellphones, and, yet, here I am doing both."

Aubrey refused to even acknowledge Ms. Halsey, doubling down by kicking her feet up on the desk. A few other kids snickered at this, while Ms. Halsey did the bare minimum to push her head off her arms and at least stare in the direction of her student. "You can head over to the office, then. I'll see you after school."

Not bothering to respond, Aubrey hunched over to grab her bag before heading toward the door. Nicole and her friends watched her go, murmuring to one another. Their obnoxious giggles didn't appear to bother our teacher until Nicole decided to take it one step further.

"Bitch had it coming…"

"And I guess I'll see you as well, Nicole." The sigh she let out sent her bangs flying in all directions. "And now I've got a third thing I didn't want to do added to my plate. Lucky me."

She grumbled but didn't object otherwise. There was no real use arguing with Ms. Halsey because A) she could give less than a shit or B) you would wind up in the principal's office if you took it far enough. Neither option really led to a productive outcome, so most of us realized it wasn't worth the hassle. Not that I ever found myself disagreeing with her. Despite her best attempts to come into school every day portraying a Hollywood zombie, she was still a beauty. No, the most I usually managed to do in her presence was sputter and turn red.

That led to a rather pathetic parent-teacher conference last semester, and an unending barrage of jokes from my dad at my expense. Mainly about how I was never going to get a girlfriend if I couldn't even manage to talk to my hot teacher.

Today, however, it was clear she was taking no prisoners. It would be best if I could hunker down and not draw any attention to myself. That idea fleeted quickly when I became front and center of her line of view. I hunched my shoulders, trying my best to occupy as little space as possible in the same manner I imagined a hedgehog would–minus the cool spines. Of course, that didn't do anything except make her snort some more.

"You might as well stick around too, Grant. The more, the merrier. Or something like that I think," she said. " Hurry up and get those textbooks open already. You all are seniors, right? I don't know why I even have to tell you that halfway through the school year."

I sat like a deer in the headlights, floundering in my seat while everyone else moved to comply with her instructions. To the best of my knowledge, I hadn't done anything to upset her. Nor had I broken any classroom rules, not that she was especially strict on those to begin with. So what reason did she have to keep me after? Knowing the answer wasn't magically going to come to me, I grabbed my textbook out of my backpack and flipped to the assigned page. Not like I wanted to get myself in any more trouble than I was already somehow in.

The lesson passed by fast, a whirlwind of grammar and notes that left me little time to worry about it all. At the chime of the bell, everyone filed out, not wanting to stay here any longer than they had to. Papers and books were shoved away, and they escaped to sweet freedom. 

A pity I didn't know what I had until I lost it.

My teacher plopped into the chair behind her desk, spinning in circles a few before her momentum came to a halt. She stared at the three of us in barely concealed distaste. "Your detention begins now."