"Amelia you're with Mr B. Aimeeleigh you're with Mr Park." Mrs Song says, pointing at each of the teachers.
"What?" Amelia asks.
"Why?" Aimeeleigh questions.
"No questions, just follow them." Mrs Song replies.
"Fucking bullshit." They both murmur before following their respective teachers.
As soon as they exit the rooms they have to walk separate ways. They dramatically wave goodbye to each other, before returning their attention to mumbling curse words under their breaths.
"Where are we actually going?" Amelia questions aloud, after five minutes of wondering the building.
"In this classroom." Mr B replies, taking a sudden turn into an empty classroom.
"I was thinking more of a supply closet, but this'll work." Amelia says, wiggling her eyebrows and winking at her teacher's back.
"What was that?" Mr B asks.
"Nothing?" Amelia questions herself. She slumps down at one of the desks, prepared to catch up on her missed sleep of last night.
"You know you can't sleep in detention. What if Mrs Song walks in? I'll lose my placement." Mr B says, tapping her desk with a metre stick.
"Where the fuck did that come from?" Amelia asks, eyeing the stick in his hand. She grabs a piece of paper from the desk beside hers. She quickly writes a note to show Aimeeleigh.
Instead of tapping the desk with a stick, how about you tap something else ;)
"Language." Mr B says, withdrawing the stick from her desk.
"English." She replies, before laughing to herself.
Meanwhile, in Mr Park's classroom. He has Aimeeleigh filling out the trig questions from this morning's lesson.
"Which question are you on now?" Mr Park asks.
"Five." She replies, annoyance evident in her tone.
"How are you going through these so quick?" He asks.
"I remember the answers from earlier." She states.
"You actually did the questions? Woah, I wasn't expecting that." He says, receiving a glare from her. She finishes the last question, then lays across the desk, prepared to sleep. She realises she won't be able to sleep, so she reaches into her bag to grab a box of shortbread. Mr Park clears his throat as she goes to take a bite out of the first piece.
"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want one?" She questions, holding the box out to him. He thinks for a few seconds, before accepting one from her.
