Weeping Willow (Spanking Story)

Chapter 4, Part 2: Owen's POV

Lunch went just like I expected it too, and I thanked God I didn't have any actual food in my stomach; it would have just come right back up. Dylan Peters started business the second I walked up to him, shoving a slip of paper with an address hastily scrawled on it into my clammy hands. This purchase was already of the same caliber as the night of the dance, and I couldn't help but feel nauseatingly nostalgic. This whole thing felt so much like déjà vu, I pinched myself just to make sure I hadn't gone into the past. Unfortunately, my heart dropped with the realization that I was risking my entire life and reputation once again.

I sort of drifted through the rest of the day, floating along in my own personal storm cloud. Ben seemed to notice something was off during his class, but didn't comment. We had a test coming up soon, and he probably assumed I was stressing about that. It was no secret that English was one of my worst subjects—way too much reading and writing and not enough moving.

The end of the day came—just came. Not too fast, not too slow. Time is scary when it moves normally.

I was heading toward the locker rooms, looking forward to a much needed anger management session with the ball, when a crinkling in my pocket reminded me of my two detentions I had after school.

Fuck. My. Life.

Despite what I'd said earlier, I couldn't just not go to detention. Seeing how Dana reacted earlier, my absence would probably be enough to send him off the deep end and send me into an early grave.

I was nearly stomping as I made my way to the designated detention room that day, thankfully a teacher I didn't even know. Hopefully, I could just find a back desk and sleep for the whole two hour period.

As I walked into the open doorway, I was met with a sight that made me want to walk right back out of that goddamn room.

There was Dylan Peters, in the flesh, sitting there trying to break a peanut with his forehead. And here, we can observe the Dylan in his natural environment, performing his mating ritual so as to attract the Willow Academy female population. Needless to say, it was ineffective.

I found myself laughing out loud at my internal monologue, capturing the attention of everyone in the classroom.

"And you are?" a female teacher asked, nose pointed toward the heavens. Any higher, and I'd be able to see her brain. Yuck.

"Owen Kherrington," I answered uneasily, shifting my weight from left to right.

Her pink nail looked like a garden spade as it scraped its way down the roll sheet. Honestly, was she trying to grow her own pocket knife or something?

"You're on here twice, Mr. Kherrington," she remarked. "Do you know why?"

"No," I said, not looking her in the eyes. "Maybe they accidentally wrote me down twice?"

"It says here it's from two different teachers..."

All I could manage was a look of discomfort and a garbled response.

"I guess we'll be seeing you tomorrow, won't we, Mr. Kherrington?"

Did I say it already? If I did, oh well. Fuck my life.

Needless to say, I didn't spend the whole two hours sleeping as I'd hoped. Instead, we were instructed to write an essay about making good choices—come on, really? We were in high school, people! I also had the pleasure of Dylan Peters purposefully shaking my desk by jamming his chair into it. I think the detention teacher had instructed me to sit behind the brute on purpose. By the time the clock read 5:15, I was practically itching with the need to leave this godforsaken, four-walled prison.