detention · 5sos (DISCONTINUED)

07

↠ e m i l y ↠

"I thought she said we weren't doing anything illegal!"

I need to find a gun. Fuck, I'm in a school, they don't have those here. Knives, from the cafeteria?

He's been complaining about God knows what for the past ten minutes, mostly about how Quinn "lied to us" because this is technically illegal, and he's not going to do it, and I'm not sure whether I should kill myself, or kill him.

"I can't believe she dragged us out here to do this, and now we're gonna have to watch the baby video, and oh God, I think I'm gonna puke."

He just keeps rambling on, and I'm going to get a headache if he doesn't stop soon. "Ashton," I say, and I don't think he hears me because he just keeps babbling on.

"Ashton," I repeat, rolling my eyes. "I swear to God, stop talking."

"You know what, no, I'm not gonna stop talking, because I'm mad and I do not want to graffiti!" He yells.

"Why are you getting so upset over graffiti? Loosen up a little," I say, rolling my eyes once again.

"I'm getting upset because I want to go to college and get married and have children and I do not want to ruin my whole life by getting arrested for illegal graffiti!"

Damn, this kid is a handful.

I sigh, fiddling with the note Quinn gave us in my hand. Next to me sits the can of spray pan, which I'm not sure I plan on touching. I can't believe she actually bought spray paint for us. I wonder if she actually planned this all out in her head beforehand, or maybe she just keeps it in her backpack so she can use it whenever it comes in handy.

I look back over at Ashton and he's biting his nails. "Can people in jail get married? Or like, people who've been in jail? Do girls like that kind of stuff?" He asks.

"I'd go for a bad boy anyday," I smirk.

"Really? I don't know, you don't seem like the type of girl who would go for that." Ashton shrugs.

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Why not?"

"Uh, I don't know. You're like - popular?"

"So that means I can't like bad boys?" I ignore the popular comment. I've never gotten why people consider me popular, because honestly I'm not. It's not like people fall to their knees when I walk by or I host parties every Friday night. Well, I mean, I guess I do party sometimes, if you consider partying staying home and watching Netflix and eating a tub of Ben and Jerry's. Which I do.

He shrugs. "I always thought popular girls went for jocks, or something."

"That is the most stereotypical thing I've ever heard."

He ignores me, going back to biting his nails and fidgeting around. "I'm gonna go back to the classroom. Am I allowed to go back to the classroom? Of course I am, that's where I'm fucking supposed to be."

It's like he's having a conversation with himself, and in all honesty, it's pretty adorable. In an annoying kind of way. A really annoying way.

He stands up, and that's when I realize he's actually serious about going back to the room. "Wait!" I stand up too, before I think about what I'm doing. "Don't go."

"Why not? Scared of being alone?" He smirks.

"No..." I trailed off. "I mean. Kinda. Yeah."

He just keeps smirking at me, and I roll my eyes and sit back down on the floor.