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by thyselves

by thyselves

I sit quietly in the classroom, waiting to see if more people will show up to detention. Only few decide it's worth coming; Grant, I notice, isn't one of them. Of course.

"You are not allowed to talk," some teacher -- I think her name is Ms. Fernandez -- lists out with an annoyed look, "You are not allowed to eat or sleep. You must do your homework, and if you need help, you must ask me. Only me."

I use my time wisely so I can actually get some work done. I'm so engrossed in my homework that I don't notice time flying. By the time detention ends, I finish it all. I pack away my things, ultimately making me the last one to leave.

The teacher stops me, pointing a crooked finger to the very back of the room, "Go wake him up."

I try not to scowl at her commanding attitude.

It's none other than Grant Victor, resting his head on his arm. I stride over to him and roughly shake his shoulder, "Dude, wake up."

It takes a few tries, but he finally stirs and slowly blinks his gray eyes. He tugs the left side of his lip into a smile, "Good morning, sweetheart."

I roll my eyes, "It's not even morning."

Grant gets up and stretches, with the teacher glaring at him the whole time. He ignores her and grabs my arm, taking me with him.

"What are you doing?"

"We're going on a journey, Venice."

"That's stupid," I reply, "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"C'mon," he practically whines, "It'll be fun."

"Why do you know my name, anyway?"

"Please don't make this into one of those cliché stories. You're pratically in all of my classes," he pauses, "I think your name's cute."

I tug my arm away from him, "Holy shit, I'm not making this into anything."

He sighs, "Fine. Don't come."

"Good."