"Well, well. Finally decided to show up, now, did we?" the teacher scolded. "Third tardy this week. Detention." She wrote up a note and slid it onto my desk as I dropped my bag onto the floor.
"I'm sorry, I lost track of time," I said softly.
"Maybe it's about time you invest in a watch, instead of all those band t-shirts, missy," she said, lifting an eyebrow. The whole class was still staring at me, which only made me feel ten times worse. At least one person of every social group had their eyes locked on me, silently judging me. It's not like I wasn't used to it. That's how the punks are treated, right?
I pulled out my notebook and glared at some of the starers from across the room, telling them to fuck off with only a look. Hell yeah, they got the hint. Even with them scrambling to get to work, I still felt a pair of eyes staring at me, examining and analyzing me. I turned around in my seat to meet the eyes of the one and only Stanley Uris. Great, another loser.
I didn't know much about Stanley, only that he was Jewish, and friends with the kid whose brother went missing. I honestly couldn't help but feel sad. The kid was fricken adorable, with his noodle hair, and his deep brown eyes. If only he wasn't considered such a loser.
Stanley noticed that I had caught him and immediately looked away. Heh, how awkward. I smiled to myself and turned back to my paper, working on it to keep my grades up. When I finished, I rested my head on the desk and drifted off into a quiet, comforting sleep...
_____
"Wakey wakey," I heard a voice say. My eyes fluttered open to see Victor staring down at me and shaking my shoulder.
"Oh, hey Vic," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. Victor pulled me out of my seat and wrapped his arms around me, embracing me as he kissed me aggressively. I fought against it, pushing him away. "I just woke up, Vic. Give me some time."
"Ugh, fine, but Henry is waiting, so don't take too long," he groaned, leaving the classroom quickly. Wow, how gentlemanly, I thought, pulling half of my hair up as I extracted my compact mirror from my pocket.
I was putting on more eyeliner when I heard a voice from behind me. It was delicate, but straightforward.
"You don't need it," they said, making me turn around. Stanley was sitting in his seat, looking up at me. I scrunched up my eyebrows, not understanding what he meant.
"I'm sorry, what?" I asked, taking a break from my eyeliner.
"The eyeliner," he said, motioning to the pencil in my hand. "If its only for Victor, you don't need it." I looked at the product that I held, before examining myself in my mirror. I guess that's enough for today, I thought, capping the pencil and slipping it into my pocket. I glanced at Stanley, who had gone back to working on his homework. Not wanting to disturb him, I slipped my backpack straps around my shoulders and left the room to find Victor.
_____
After school, I made my way to the 100 hall, where detention was. Victor didn't want to stay with me, since he wanted to bully the freshmen with Henry instead. God, what a douche.
I opened the door and slammed my bag down at an empty desk before handing my note to the supervisor. He shook his head and pointed to my desk.
"Get out a book or some homework. You can at least be productive in here," he said in a monotone voice. I followed his orders as someone else walked through the door and put their stuff down on the chair behind me. I looked up from my book to see Stanley handing a note of his own to the teacher.
"Stan?" he asked in confusion. After scanning the note, he shook his head. "I expected better, Stanley," he scolded, flicking his wrist towards Stanley's desk. He took a seat behind me and pulled out a book.
After about ten minutes, the teacher stood and grabbed his lunch.
"You two are good enough kids, right?" he asked us, chuckling when neither of us responded. "Alright, look. I've gotta heat up my pasta, and the only working microwave is in the teachers' lounge. You two promise to behave for five to ten minutes?" He looked at me, and I just turned back to my homework. There was no way in hell that I would be getting another detention.
I guess Stanley mirrored my actions, because the teacher shrugged and left the room, closing the door behind him. We were both silent for a couple of seconds, before neither of us could take it. I turned around as he closed his book.
"Why do you still hang out with Bowers?" he asked, getting straight to the point. I shrugged as I responded.
"I have no where else to go." Stanley frowned and rested his arms on his desk.
"You know, you could always join me and my friends," he offered, raising his eyebrows. I chuckled and leaned back.
"That's real sweet, Stanley—"
"Stan, please," he corrected. "Call me Stan." I nodded and continued on.
"Sorry, Stan. That's real sweet of you to offer, but none of you guys would want me there," I said softly. Stan scoffed and smiled.
"What's that supposed to mean? Richie hangs out with us, for goodness sakes. No one wants him there, but everyone's welcome. We're just a bunch of losers." Stan leaned back in his own chair and brushed a strand of curly hair out of his face.
"No, you don't get it. You guys have at least a decent reputation. I wouldn't want to ruin that," I said, shaking my head. Stan frowned, looking around the room.
"Uh, reputation?" he questioned, confused. I motioned towards myself before speaking.
"I'm a delinquent. Weird emo band tees and crap, you know? I've got quite the reputation." I stretched my arms behind my head as Stan shrugged innocently.
"So what? You're not getting declined into a club of losers because of what you wear," he reasoned before pointing to his yarmulke. My face fell as I remembered how Henry treated him because of his religion. It honestly made me sad how someone could be bullied so much because of their beliefs.
"About that. I really have to apologize for Henry's behavior. He's just such a dick sometimes. I kind of have to stick around to make sure it doesn't get out of hand," I blurted, feeling immediately guilty. Stan shook his head.
"No, don't apologize. It's not your fault," he said reassuringly. "And about your 'reputation'? You're not the only one who gets detentions. Look at me, for example." I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow.
"That's right. What did the goody-two-shoes do to get such a severe consequence?" I joked, turning my chin up. Stan scratched the back of his head and broke eye contact before he explained. Heh, cute.
"So, I might've accidentally skipped half of fourth period to help Eddie retrieve one of his fanny packs from behind the fence after Bowers threw it over..." he said nervously. I jumped back sarcastically.
"Gasp! How rebellious," I chuckled. A smile broke out on Stan's face before he looked back up at me. We both sat in silence for a bit until Stan turned back towards me again.
"You know, for a 'delinquent', you're pretty nice," he said, blushing slightly. I snickered at how adorable he was.
"Hey, for a 'loser', you're pretty cool," I responded. Stan rolled his eyes and we both burst out laughing. Our laughter was soon silenced, however, by the supervisor opening the door. We both scrambled back to our books as he sat down at his desk. The teacher looked up at us and smiled.
"I heated up my pasta," he said joyfully before indulging himself in the Italian noodles. What a weirdo.
_____
"Alright guys, see ya in class," the teacher said, shooing me and Stan out the door. It was an hour after detention had begun, and we were finally free. As Stan and I left the building, I slung my bag over one shoulder, holding it in place.
"So, you up for ice cream?" Stan asked, his eyes full of optimism. I thought of meeting up with Victor, but ultimately decided against it, nodding at Stan.
"Yeah. I'm good with that."
