Time In Detention

January 16, 2020.

I whistled softly to myself as I paced the halls slowly. As I passed by classes that were in session I leaned in and tried to make out what subject it was. I had made out that one of the classrooms was an English class when I overheard them talking about poetry. Another was a science class, but I couldn't tell if it was environmental or earth science. And one of them was my art class, which I was currently skipping as I waited for someone in particular to arrive.

It had been a day and a half since my suspension and I had missed the game yesterday, which was against Southridge. I didn't play or attend the game, since my dad required me to come straight come. I was almost glad about this, though, because my old friend and teammate Luke was on the Southridge team and I didn't think I was ready to revisit that situation yet.

I had gone straight home at four o'clock yesterday, and my dad seemed pretty satisfied that I wasn't on the team since he'd seen that we were scheduled to be having a game then. I doubted that he'd come home early like he'd done yesterday today, which meant I had a free afternoon that I didn't want to spend at home. I had considered just going to the game as a spectator, but then I'd thought of something better to do with my time.

"Oh come on, Blake!"

I turned and smiled as Milton came toward me. Milton was a big guy even though he was the same age as me and he was the hall monitor at our school.

"Sup Milt?" I said to him as he approached.

"Look Blake, I like you man, but seriously?" Milton complained. "That's the third time today, and if I don't punish you I'm going to lose my position as hall monitor."

"Hmm," I furrowed my brows and acted like I was considering what he said. "You're absolutely right."

"Okay I'm sorry man but you can't be late for three classes in the same day," Milton explained, writing something down on his clipboard. "I'm going to have to give you after-school detention today and take you back to your class."

"Sounds good," I said, patting Milton on the back and walking with him toward the art room. "Thanks Milt, I appreciate it."

"Thanks?" Milton asked, confused. "But I just gave you det—"

"See you around," I said to him cheerily as I stepped into the art room and promptly closed the door.

I turned into the classroom and saw that everyone was staring at me. "Hi!" I greeted, feeling strangely giddy for some reason.

"Nice of you to finally join us, Blake," said Mrs. Parks. "May I ask where you've been?"

"You may," I allowed.

"Where have you been?"

"I was just over in the halls receiving detention from my friend Milton."

Everyone looked at me like I was crazy, but I caught Harper's eye and she smiled knowingly.

"Well you can take your seat now," Mrs. Parks said.

I took my seat beside Harper, who continued to smile at me while Mrs. Parks finished talking.

"You didn't have to do that for me," she said to me.

I shrugged. "It's the least I can do to pay you back for sticking up for me. You didn't have to do that for me, but you did. Besides, what else am I gonna do this afternoon?"

I got up to retrieve my art supplies to work on my project. I was still in the process of making the project basketball themed, but I was feeling unenthusiastic about it. Was basketball really all that I was? Surely there was something more important to me.

I got to work on the project, but my heart wasn't really in it. For a painting that was supposed to define who I was, I was painting basketball goals and basketballs. Sure, it was just a school assignment, but it meant something to me. Or it was supposed to, anyway. So I decided on just sitting and considering my two options of just finishing the project or redoing it for the entire class period.

"Well, time for detention," Harper said, standing up as the bell rung and putting away her supplies. I did the same and followed her out the door. "I'll show you the ropes," she said. "It's pretty boring, so I'm glad you decided to come."

"Boring?" I repeated. "Well then, I guess it's good that I brought these."

Harper glanced over as we walked and I pulled out a deck of Uno cards from a pouch on my bookbag. She grinned and nodded. When we got to the detention room, I was surprised how empty it was. There were only about five other students there and one teacher up at the front, who was observing a mango in his hand.

"That's Mr. Vondrasek," Harper whispered to me as we took our seats, which were close to the back of the room. "He eats a different fruit every day and runs a no-nonsense detention room."

"Fun guy," I remarked.

Mr. Vondrasek didn't even bother to look up from his desk the first fifteen minutes of detention, not even to check who all was there. Harper eventually looked up from a paper she was pretending to write on and motioned for me to get out the cards. I pulled them out and gave us both seven cards to begin.

"You go first," I said.

"I thought the dealer went first," replied Harper.

"No, it's—"

"Do you guys mind?" a boy sitting in front of us turned around, and when I realized who it was, I was completely taken aback. We had sat down directly behind Chance without even knowing it. When Chance realized who we were, he also looked surprised for a moment, but then smirked. "I knew your girlfriend got detention, but they told me you got off free."

I was about to retort, but Harper spoke first. "I'm not his girlfriend, and what does it matter to you anyway?"

"Oh," I glanced over at Harper. "You're not my... I mean, we're not...?"

"Shut up," Harper said, punching me in the arm lightly. "Anyway, it's none of your business."

"Yeah, you're right," said Chance. "I got him kicked off the team, so that's good enough for me."

"Too bad it's only temporary," I said, "because I'll be back in no time to steal your spot again."

Chance opened his mouth, but just then Mr. Vondrasek decided to walk by. "No talking!" the man exclaimed, biting into the mango without bothering to remove the skin. "And put those cards away now!"

"Got it," I said, and he walked away.

Once Mr. Vondrasek was back at his desk and chewing his mango skin, Chance turned back around. I thought he was going to continue the argument, but he just said. "You have cards?"

"Um, yeah," I said, thrown off by the sudden course change in conversation. "It's Uno."

"Let me—" Chance hesistated. "I mean, do you think I could join in?"

I glanced at Harper, who seemed just as confused. "I thought we were fighing about who was better at basketball."

"Well yeah, we were," Chance said, "and we're not done with that argument, either. It's just, I'm bored here too, you know?"

I raised my eyebrows, but then just nodded. "Sure, join in." I dealt him some cards.

"Thanks," he said. "Can't wait to beat you at yet another thing."

It turned out that Chance was no less ruthless at playing cards than he was at playing basketball. Every reverse card, plus two card, color change card, and especially plus four card that he played, he played as if he was getting revenge, and those cards were always accompanied by a "Gotcha again!" or a "Take that!". It was exhausting and didn't make my opinion of Chance improve in the slightest. This being said, it did effectively pass the time, which was surprising. Before I knew it, Mr. Vondrasek was throwing away the inside of his mango and getting his stuff together.

"Is he going somewhere?" I asked.

"Yes, he is," said Chance sarcastically as he shoved his cards at me. "We all are. It's time to go home now."

I glanced up at the clock, but he was right. Detention was over. I turned to say something back to him, but he had already headed out the door. I glanced over at Harper, who slid her cards toward me.

"Sorry about that," I told her. "I didn't know that—"

"Hey," she interrupted. "Don't worry about it. I told you that I wanted you to introduce me to him, right? Well now you have."

"And what'd you think?" I asked, smiling.

"Eh," Harper replied, shrugging. "There are other fish in the sea."

I laughed and swung my pack over my shoulder as we walked out of the classroom.

"Where you headed?" I asked as we walked down the nearly deserted hallway, with the occasional student passing by.

"The late bus," she said. "What about you?"

"I'm walking," I replied.

We walked outside and into the cold air. As Harper made a beeline for the buses, I walked toward my path home.

"Thanks for tonight!" Harper called back at me as we parted ways.

I just shook my head and jogged the way home.

Several minutes later I arrived at my house to see that my dad's car was not in the driveway. I let out a sigh of relief and unlocked the door to go inside. I was halfway up the stairs, going to my room, when I heard someone from down the steps.

"Welcome home," I glanced down to see my sister spread on the couch, watching TV.

"Hey Liv."

"Guess what time it is," she said before I could make it the rest of the way up the stairs. 

"It's five-something," I called back.

"Mhm," she replied sassily, "and what does that mean?"

"Dunno," I said, racking my brain. "Oh, your show comes on. The one with the coffee shop."

"Yes, Friends is on," she said, motioning at the TV impatiently. "But what does that mean for you... and Dad..."

"I came home late," I concluded. "But Dad's not even here, so what does it—" I stopped short when I saw the look on her face. "You're gonna tell him."

I walked down the stairs and sat down on a chair, facing Liv. I could already tell that she was going to juice this one for way more than it was worth.

"No, of course I'm not going to tell him!" Liv said. "I mean, with the right compensation of course..."

"Oh, come on," I said, frustrated. "Where'd you even learn that word?"

Liv crossed her arms and smiled at my with a satisfied look on her face.

"What do you what?" I asked.

"I want to know where you were."

"I was—"

"Don't say you were at basketball practice!" she said before I could finish. "Because you always stay late for practice. You were home early today, which means you were doing something else."

"Fine," I said. "I was in detention."

"You got detention?" she asked, now looking more surprised than evilly happy.

"Well kind of, but not exactly. You see, there's this girl, and—"

"There's a girl involved?" Liv interrupted once more, her emotion changing again to now pure curiosity and interest.

"Just forget about it."

"No, wait," she said eagerly. "You never tell me anything about your social life."

"And for that, there's a very good reason."

"Just tell me everything about this girl and the detention and Dad won't hear anything from me," she said. "I want to hear about your crush."

"Fine," I said finally. "But it's not really like that. You see, she sort of did me a favor..."

I ended up telling my sister the whole story. She was actually a great listener—which surprised me—and it felt good to get the whole thing off my chest. She crossed her arms angrily when I told her the part about Chance attacking me, widened her eyes at the part of Harper attacking Chance, and smiled at the part about me getting detention on purpose. At the end of the story, she went back to watching her show and I went back up to my room, but I felt better. I resolved to tell Liv more of the things that happened to me because, even though she was younger than me, she was a smart kid. She would let me know if I was overthinking something and tell me if I had done something stupid. It was always good to get a seond opinion, and hers was as good as any.