Nothing Special (Minicat)

; Craig

School goes by relatively fast. Soon, I sit in homeroom, waiting for the glorious 3:05 to arrive.

When the bell finally rings, I whip out my phone and walk out the door first. A number that has been cemented into my head ever since my mom's first week in the hospital.

"Hello, this is Rising Stars Clinic, Rita speaking." A calm voice answers from the other end of the line.

"Hi, Rita." I sigh in relief, as I've know Rita since the beginning of it all.

"Good evening, Craig!" Rita replies, seeming as cheery as ever. "Might I ask why you're calling the hospital's line right after school?"

"I might be visiting later today, could you tell my mom that I'll be there at 4:30? I'd really appreciate it." I look at the Detention Slip in my hand, scowling at Mr. Modak's shaky handwriting under "Reason for Detention":

Disrupting class with crude noises; Calling teacher "Gandalf."

"Of course, Craig," Rita says. I thank her and hang up, then start walking to the room where I'll be serving my useless hour of nothingness.

----

Turns out the torture death room is B14, where we have that strange study hall with the white blob of hair on her head. I walk in, where Tyler is already sitting down, on his phone. I roll my eyes and sit next to him. He glances at me and smirks, making me smile back.

I look over at the teacher's desk, where the detention monitor sits eating a donut and reading what seems to be a comic book. He has a huge beard, and a receding hairline. After a few minutes, the monitor gets up and walks over to another girl in detention.

"Detention slip, please," he grunts. The girl who, might I add, looks as buff as Rocky Balboa, holds up her green slip, which he takes swiftly.  He does the same with Tyler and I before walking back to his desk. 

"Your hour starts now," the monitor says gruffly. "No talking, no sneezing, no coughing." He then eyes Tyler warily. "And no phones, Wilde." Tyler rolls his eyes, groans audibly, and pockets his phone. I immediately take out a book and begin reading while Mr. Receding Hairline returns to his comic book. 

----

A small ball of paper hits my arm and falls to the floor. I scowl down at it, then look up to see Tyler eyeing me pointedly. His face reads: "Open it."

I smile slightly and pick up the piece of paper from the ground. Holding it under my desk, I uncurl the small ball, making sure to not tear it. I read it, then look back at Tyler quizzically. His gaze shifts to my hair and shrugs. I look back down at the note.

I like the pink hair.

----

I MISS PINKLADD

also the picture aw look at my lil aesthetic smol

~ tay