Living High School to the Fullest (Completed)

Chapter 29: ***Throw a Party*** - Part 1

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Chapter 29

Detention. It always had this ring of high school doom to it. Now, standing in only another ordinary room Em and I had had difficulties to find, it was just that: a classroom with an awful lot of students in it. Detention seemed to be a very popular punishment among our teachers.

Mrs. Middlebrook, the drama club teacher, was the one in charge. Luckily, she didn’t say anything about us showing up a bit late. That would have been something: getting detention for being late for detention. She did seem to be surprised to see us, though. Even more so after having read our detention slips.

“Girls, please find a seat. As far away from each other than possible,” she sighed.

Emma immediately put her bag down on the last empty table in the front row, the one we were standing right next to, marking her territory. I was scanning the rest of the room and realized with horror that there were only two tables left. One in the last row right next to the infamous Zack. He had scaring others down to an art form and consequently a bit of a reputation. Rumor has it that he skinned squirrels at the ripe old age of nine. Believe it or not, that was one of the more harmless things people are saying about him. Everybody tried their best to stay out of his way.

I wondered what he had done this time to be in detention. Slashed someone’s tires again because they told a teacher about him smoking behind the bleachers? On the other hand, he probably has to be here every single day. No way was I going to sit next to Zack Attack.

That’s why I walked over to my only other option and flopped down in the chair right next to Dan Kingsley. Shouldn’t he already been done with his time for punching TJ? That had been ages ago. Apparently, Kingsley had made himself a home. Two cans of soda, a banana, a bag of chips, two sandwiches and some energy bars were lined up in front of him. I had a feeling that the grocery bill of Mother Kingsley must have at least doubled since Dan hit puberty.

“Hey, LOL chick.” He whispered loudly and grinned. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Uh! I have a name.

Without even glancing at him, I paid close attention to my bag and fished out a notebook.

“Yo, LOL chick?”

And where was my pen?

“Sarah?”

Now that’s a properly trained Kingsley! Well done. If I only I had something to eat with me, I would have given him a treat.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be talking in here, Dan,” I whispered, opening my notebook.

“That’s okay. She doesn’t care as long as we’re not too loud,” he replied, nodding in Mrs. Middlebrook’s direction.

Possibly true. She is a huge advocate of the laissez-faire approach. Part of her drama club personality, I guess. To be honest, I was kind of surprised that things were rather disciplined with her as our designated detention supervisor. I would have expected her to have us all sit in a circle, reenacting what we had done to be in here and why it had been wrong with little sock puppets.

“So, what did you do?” Kingsley asked, leaning a bit closer to me.

My gaze wandered over to Mrs. Middlebrook who was busy reading a gossip magazine at her desk. In a hushed voice, I answered him. “Bingo.”

And there it was again, proudly presented by Dan Kingsley: the ultimate look of confusion.

So I took pity on him and explained in a soft tone what Em and I had done. One hour is pretty long, and I had a feeling that Dan would have bugged me relentlessly till I told him. Might as well get rid of him in the beginning. I really wanted to get some of my homework done in here.

“Paper planes, huh?” He said in a softened tone, leaning back and flexing his arm muscles a little. “That’s something for middle school. Nice touch with the phones and the bingo, though.”

Wow. My first critique! “Thanks, I guess.”

Then I turned away from him to focus on the problems I had to solve in my book. Only a notebook came flying from my left a few seconds later and landed right in the middle of it with a tiny thump. A page was almost falling out of said flying object and it was covered in doodles. ‘The King’ was written on its front in big, stunted letters.

I looked at Kingsley, raising my eyebrows, and waited for an explanation.

Holding out his pen to me, he said: “Do my homework.”