The Perfect Candy

Chapter 3: Boiling Points and Shattered Glass

Detention. Candice sat miserably in the back corner of the room, wondering if maybe this was all just one long nightmare. The teacher wasn't even here yet, but Candice had been terrified of being late. Would they give you additional detentions for coming in late? Would it go on your permanent record? To avoid either possibility, she'd come straight from her last class, clutching her backpack and waiting. She could still smell the milk in her hair and shirt, and her shoes were still squishy, all she wanted to do was go home, shower and forget about everything. Instead, she would be serving detention for the rest of this week and next.

Mr. Patrick hadn't been happy about what had happened to his daughter. She'd been led to his office after the incident and lectured for forty minutes regarding proper behavior. After the lecture, she'd apologized profusely. It seemed pointless to argue her innocence in what had happened, just as it had seemed pointless to attempt to persuade him that his daughter had not been as innocent as he would like to believe. Candice never argued with her elders. She never argued with anyone really. Better to keep your head down and go about your business, especially if the outcome would be exactly the same no matter what was said. She didn't think that made her spineless, just practical. Don't spend your time on something if nothing is going to change.

She glanced at the clock when the teacher, Mrs. Taft, came in and took her seat at the head of the room. A few minutes later, three more students wandered in and slid into seats around the room. They pulled their phones out and immediately began texting. Mrs. Taft didn't even look up from the book in her hand.

Pressing her hands tightly together beneath her desk, Candice studied her fellow students. They seemed to know the drill; could she take her cue from them and pull out her homework to begin working? Was it wise to take your cue from a group of people who were in detention in the first place? Her eyes slid hopefully towards the teacher and then back to the clock. Two more minutes and then detention would officially begin. Would they be given their directions then? Did they sit silently? Could they work on homework? She seriously doubted they were really allowed to have their phones out. She glanced back at the clock. Three.

At 3:05, Mrs. Taft set her book down and took stock of the room. "Where's Mr. Daniels?"

"I saw him over by the football field," offered a girl in the middle of the room. Her eyebrow was pierced, and she had a bright green streak running through her otherwise blonde hair. "I can go get him if you want."

Mrs. Taft shot the girl a sharp look. "As I recall, the very reason you're in here has to do with the football field. You're not going anywhere." Lifting up a clipboard, she seemed to be reading through the names and checking them off. When she got towards the bottom of the list, both eyebrows shot up and she looked around until her gaze landed on Candice who sunk down lower in her seat. "Well...this has to be a first."

Candice's face heated and she ducked her head. "Yes ma'am." She felt the other three students turning to look at her now, and kept her gaze lowered.

Mrs. Taft stood up and turned her attention to the rest of the room. "Alright, you know the drill; no phones, no notes, no talking. You're here to work on your homework or sit quietly for the next hour. Phones away." There were a few grumbles of disagreement, but phones were put away and homework was taken out. Once satisfied that they'd done as she'd asked, Mrs. Taft turned her attention back to Candice. "Ms. Fitz, come see me please."

Gaze glued to the floor, Candice stood up and hurried up to the front of the room, coming to a stop beside the desk. "Yes, Mrs. Taft?"

Mrs. Taft gave her a sympathetic smile. "You're one of my best students."

"Thank you."

"Please go find Mr. Daniel's and bring him back here. Ms. Chandler said she saw him near the football field. If he's not there, we'll have to make a call to his parents. Can you do that for me?"