Detention
Damn, it's hot.
I've always been one of the first to complain about the cold and shitty weather that naturally plagued the United Kingdom even in the middle of summer, but the heat wave that had gone on for the past two weeks was making even me feel agitated. Come on, this is England; we only get around ten full days of warm, rainless weather a year if we're lucky and only three or four of them appear in succession, so you could hardly say that we're used to high temperatures.
Of course, I might actually be enjoying the heat if I wasn't stuck in the middle of maths, practically slouched over the table as Mr Hughes droned on in his nasally voice about triangles. Honestly, did it really look like anyone gave a crap about sin, cos and tan? Even without the heat it was the last lesson on a Friday, so the amount of enthusiasm given for the subject couldn't even fill a teacup.
I just had to glance around the room to see a load of half-arsed doodles, mobile phones with incomplete texts and ill-disguised headphones blasting whatever music was on the owner's mp3 player. One girl sitting by the windows had even tucked up the hem of her blouse and sleeves in order to catch a few UV-rays in hopes of topping up her tan, earning a few catcalls from a some of the boys in the class which increased when a couple of her girl-friends joined in.
Personally, I had a drawing in front of me that I was considering incorporating into my art project. Art was the only subject that I actually found interesting and excelled at, while everything else I managed to scrape a decent pass.
Had we had any other teacher the lot of us would be in for an ear-bashing, but Hughes was one of those write-on-the-board-and-talk-until-the-bell-rings types that you occasionally come across in the education system. Bless him. The man was undeniably a mathematical genius, even I could see that and sometimes I wonder how I even know how to tell the time, yet he didn't possess the skill to pass that knowledge on to even his most eager students. By rights he should be working on some world-changing project instead of lecturing in some lame school full of kids who were busy longing for the weekend, but I guess life is tough like that.
Anyway, moving back to the present, more important things deserved my attention and there was definitely two things that stood out on my priority list; the first being was why on Earth were the radiators on and the second being how the hell do you switch them off. It always completely baffled me how the school was unable get the central heating working when you most wanted it, namely the winter, and yet my skin felt like it was practically sizzling from where my leg had accidently brushed against the scorching metal a few seconds ago.
"Hey Ronnie, you okay?" a masculine voice said quietly behind me. I turned around and shot Dean a grimace. He had probably seen me jolt upright in my seat and rub my leg in pain.
"The bloody heating is on!" I whispered harshly back.
"No way! You've got to be kidding me," he responded in surprise, testing my statement by putting his hand on the radiator before tugging it sharply away. "Ow! Geez, that's hot!"
"I told you so. You should always listen to your superiors," I retorted as I shook my head before cracking him a smile that was soon returned.
"Pfft, the only way you're superior to me is that you're a bigger pain in the arse."
"And yet you love me anyway."
"Ha! Keep deluding yourself, luv. I put up with you because there's no one else to put you on your leash."
"And I thank you for it."
Dean Thornton is one of my closest friends and if I had to have a knight in shining armour, he'd be it. We've known each other before we could even talk and ever since we were toddlers he's been yanking me out of all the metaphorical fires I've managed to get myself into before my arse got seriously burned. Not only was Dean a responsible and caring guy, but he was also fairly popular; his tall, dark, athletic build coupled with a superstar smile and all-round likeable personality made him a hit amongst both genders, whether it's for friendship or the latest crush.
I, on the other hand, wasn't so successful when it came to social status. I'm like marmite; you either love me or hate me. This is because I have a tendency to run my mouth off without thinking and shove myself in other people's affairs, but I mean well… usually.
One memorable instance of this was when Ben Walsh was having a fight with Gina Phillips and I shouted out to him that I had saw her snogging Martin Harris the week before outside a nearby cafe. He went livid and broke up with her straight away (it served her right for sticking that piece of chewing gum in my hair two years ago), but then she ambushed me after school that day and tried to claw my eyes out. If it wasn't for Dean yanking her off, I'm sad to say she would have thoroughly kicked my arse; I may be a gobby little shite, but when it comes to physical violence I'm as weak as they come.
The thing is with me and Dean is that people automatically think we're dating, except his girlfriend is another good friend of mine and I prefer the fairer sex, as they say. Then people ask if we're siblings, which always confuses me how they come to that conclusion.
While Dean can be mistaken for an Italian model, I went through a stint of being called 'Legolas's short-arse sister' while the Lord of the Rings films were popular. It's the long blonde hair and blue eyes with the lithe frame and lobe-less ears that makes me look rather elfish, I suppose, but I don't mind because I quite like my looks and who can complain being compared to Orlando Bloom? With the exception of acting ability, that is.
After spending several minutes looking for the temperature control, we gave up in order to talk about something more exciting; the weekend.
"You coming to the beach party? I heard it's supposed to be really good."
"Like I would even dream of missing it! Jack promised to get us alcohol as long as we didn't catch any attention from the cops," I grin at him as I lean over with my arms on Dean's desk. The guy sitting next to him gives me a quick glance before turning back to his Nintendo 3DS, evidently half-listening to the conversation but having little care for it. "Besides, Lily is going to be there."
"Lily? Please tell me you're not going to try again with her," my friend groaned, running his hand over his face, "That girl is bat-shit insane! Last time you guys broke up, she bit me and I still have the scars to prove it!" He raises his arm up to prove it and there is indeed a faint arching scar.
"Of course I'm not going to go out with her again! I had a black eye for nearly two weeks after that fiasco, don't forget, although you've got to admire a girl with a strong right hook… But no. I'm sick of this cycle of having an on/off relationship with her. I want someone more… stable."
"Stable is right; I'm sick of you going for the crazies. And as long as you're saying that tonight, that's fine. I know how you can be when you're around her and I'm not getting involved again, unless it's really obvious she's going to kill you," he stated with a serious face and I nod in understanding. It's unfair of me dragging Dean into my shit all the time, I know, but trouble likes to blow up in my face on a regular basis and he tends to protect me, as I've said before.
"So the base of operations is going to be my place, yeah? My parents are going on a weekend holiday for their anniversary, so we can do whatever we want."
"Sweet! I'll bring the game and some extra controllers then. I'll show you what it's like to eat dust again."
"Oh yeah?" I point a finger threateningly towards his smirking face, "Well you'll find that the tables will turn, and it'll be you who is-,"
"Will you two just shut up?"
I glance back to the front of my desk to find a pair of honey brown eyes glaring murderously in mine and Dean's direction, but mainly mine. I swivel away from Dean's desk to face the girl, plastering on my most maddening grin even though I was actually annoyed and I could tell that the expression was winding her up before I even opened my mouth.
Tasha Burrows and I have what I would call a love/hate relationship; she thinks I'm the scourge of the Earth and I think she's an uptight bitch. Where's the love part, I hear you say? Well, I've had the biggest crush on her for the past year, since she entered the school in fact.
What originally attracted me to her was the fact that she's drop dead gorgeous; I swear the word 'HOT' appeared in a flaming font the first time I clasped eyes on her. Dark shoulder-length hair, smooth olive skin and shapely legs that went on for miles, not to mention Tasha totally rocked the hot librarian look whenever she wore reading glasses in front of the dazzling, expressive eyes. She was taller than me (but not many people aren't) as she's almost above average in height and was in fairly good shape due to regular work-outs. Then I learned she was really smart and caring just by seeing her interact with my classmates, even though she's a bit of an introvert with not the best sense of humour and can get all stressy at the flick of a switch.
I wonder if she would have been so frosty towards me if I hadn't tripped over my words the first time I tried to talk to her and ended up insulting her instead of complimenting her. Now I get into verbal scraps with her every so often because I like her and yet I find her absolutely aggravating; this is what little boys must feel like when they start tugging on a girl's hair.
"Is that an order, Sargent Smasha?"
"I've told you to never call me that again," Tasha growled, her hand clenching into a fist that showed off the whites of her knuckles. I've never allowed her to forget that she broke a tray almost full of glass vials during chemistry while she was talking about possibly pursuing a military career.
I gave a mock salute as I heard Dean sigh. He knew about the crush and he's already asked me to stop fighting with her (as well as everyone else). I felt a pang of guilt but I continued anyway, driven by the look of anger on her face and the fire in her eyes. There's something sexy about the way she gets fired up.
"Sorry ma'am. Is that another order ma'am?"
"Seriously, knock it off Veronica. I actually want to pass my exams and I don't want to hear you wittering on behind me."
"What? Why are you singling me out? It's not like I'm the only one who's talking!" I'm actually angry now and my voice had risen in volume considerably. I really hate that name and the only ones who call me Veronica are my parents when they're pissed off with me.
"No, but you're the one I can hear the most!"
"Will you pull that stick out of your arse? No one gives a damn about this class and you need to learn how to chill. After that you might actually become likeable!"
"Me? Become likeable? What about you? You act like you're so cool, when really you're just an interfering cow who can't stand the thought of not being the centre of attention!"
"And you're a teacher's pet who snaps her heels together at every command in hopes that daddy might hear of it, even though no one's around to tell him!"
Slap.
My head whips to the side at the force and the stinging pain spreads across my left cheek, although when I looked at her again you'd think that Tasha was the one who had been hit. Tears were in her eyes while her expression was a mixture of pain and hatred, the latter was entirely for me, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she panted.
I instantly regret what I said. Even without the slap, I knew it was wrong of me. It was common knowledge that Tasha's father worked abroad a lot in order to support them, although I had overheard that her mother had left them both when Tasha was young so the girl largely looked after herself, even though she lived with her aunt but she also worked a lot. I knew as I said it that it was a low blow, but it still somehow slipped out.
"Tasha, I-."
"Burrows! Turner! What is going on here?"
My gaze slips from Tasha's face and I'm sure my face paled as I looked over her shoulder to see who had interrupted my apology. Mrs Cox was glowering at us from where she stood in the open doorway, hands on her hips in her usual no nonsense manner, while Hughes was biting his lip nervously, probably wondering if he was going to get into trouble himself.
Cox was a part of the school's senior management team and the overseer of our year, meaning that all of our problems got reported to her. She was also a straight-up hard ass. She hated me as she was often having words with me for something and surprisingly wasn't a fan of Tasha either from what I've heard, but then again she did like to roam the halls looking for misbehaving teenagers to devour (not literally). Her foot was tapping with impatience.
"Well?"
Neither of us spoke. The class was completely silent and probably had been for a while, but I don't think either Tasha or I had noticed as we shouted at each other. We were also both standing, something that I was vaguely aware of but never really taken actual notice of. I think this is the worst argument we'd ever had.
"I shouldn't have slapped her. I'm sorry," Tasha finally said quietly, her voice shaking in a combination of fear, exertion and embarrassment. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was physically withdrawn; if she could fold herself in until she disappeared then I have no doubt she would. This is probably the first time she's really got into trouble. Guilt surged through me. This was my mess.
"No. I went too far and said something I shouldn't have. I deserved it, so please don't punish Tasha."
Mrs Cox's eyebrows rose in surprise and there were some gasps around the room. Even Tasha gave me a shocked look. Did everyone think I was a cold-hearted bitch or something? Okay, so it's rare for me not to go finger pointing and try to squirm out of trouble while landing the other person firmly into it, but I know when I'm in the wrong. And despite our quarrels, I do like the brunette.
"As much as that may be, Miss Turner, we do not tolerate acts of violence within our school, whatever the cause," the woman started with her stern tone. Oh shit, we're both going to get in trouble. "You and Miss Burrows will follow me to my office. Bring your things."
We do as she ordered in silence. I glance back as we walk out the room and Dean shoots me a look that screams 'You are an idiot and I pity you, but well done for not being a coward for once'. All of that in one look: amazing, right?
Mrs Cox's office is actually quite nice. It's small but neat, with paperwork orderly piled on the desk and a clear space to work, while the walls are painted in a calming blue. There's even a leafy plant in the corner. No chains or torture devices in sight, as I expected to find on my first visit there, but for all I know they could be hidden in one of her drawers in her desk.
It was a long lecture. Tasha and I explained what happened, during which they both kept giving me odd looks, probably because they were surprised at how co-operative I was being. After that though Mrs Cox went into full throttle and repeatedly told us how serious the situation was. We ended up getting an after-school detention, starting immediately as the bell rang as soon as she finished talking.
Great. An hour and a half of nothing to do in an over-heated room when it's the weekend. At least my parents were away so I wouldn't get an ear-ache from them. Tasha wasn't too happy either and looked rather pale.
We were sat on opposite sides of the classroom next to Cox's office which belonged to Miss Larrington, a fairly young geography teacher who could often be seen wearing a giddy smile. That smile was nowhere to be found as she gave us a look of disapproval and continued to collect the things she would be taking home with her for the weekend. I managed to send a sneaky text to Dean that I'd meet him later than planned while Larrington's back was turned. Thankfully I managed to put my phone back into my pocket before there was a knock at the door and another teacher walked in.
"Are you ready to go yet, Tanya…? Oh, you're on detention duty." It was Mr Jenkins, another geography teacher. He glanced at us both before we faded into the background. Miss Larrington shook her head.
"Julie's gone to a meeting but she'll be back soon. And I'm just about ready… Would you mind passing that box please, Andy? Thank you."
Miss Larrington gave him a dazzling smile before they both walked out the room, continuing to talk as they walk down the hallway, leaving Tasha and I to deal with the silence. I shift uncomfortably and it's almost deafeningly loud. A glance to the right shows that the other girl is staring at her desk, still as a statue.
Twenty minutes pass. I've got my sketch out in order to pass the time and I'm pleased with how it's turning out. The dog's eyes stare at me from the page, triumphantly holding his ball in his mouth as his trot along the roughly outlined riverbank is frozen in time. I've always wanted a dog and this picture will probably be the nearest thing to owning one while I'm in my teens, as my father was allergic to most animals.
"That's really good."
"Shit!" I yelped in surprise as I jumped, thankful that my pencil wasn't on paper when I did. I turned to find that Tasha was stood behind me, leaning back on a desk as she looked over my shoulder. How long had she been standing there? I must have been really focused on my drawing if I didn't hear her come up behind me, especially since I've been told I've got the ears of a bat.
"You alright?" An amused smile played at the corners of her lips despite her otherwise serious composure.
"Yeah. Uh… and thanks, for the compliment I mean."
"It's fine."
We stared awkwardly at each other for a few moments until I could no longer stand it and dropped my gaze to the floor. I wanted to ask her why she was standing there, looking at me as if she was waiting for something, but I was afraid for some reason. Sure, I couldn't shut up when I was putting my foot in it, but give me a situation like this and I turned into chicken shit
"So why did you do it?"
"Do what?" I asked with uncertainty, caught off-guard by her sudden question. It didn't help that Tasha had hoisted herself up to sit upon the desk and had crossed her legs, her pleated black skirt hitched up enough to reveal a teasing of smooth thighs. Did I mention I had a thing for women's legs? It took all my inner strength not to stare and drool.
"You stuck up for me when we were talking to Mrs Cox and without that there was a good chance I could have got a suspension. You really saved my hide there. Of course, we wouldn't have been in that situation at all if you hadn't of-," she cut herself off and shook her head. When Tasha started speaking again the bitterness in her voice had vanished, while her calm yet curious tone returned. "But anyway, why did you do that? I thought you hated me?"
"Hate you? Hell no! I…" My voice lodged in my throat and I realised I almost blurted out how much I liked her. Definitely not the time for that. I sighed, aware that her confused amber eyes were boring into me. "Look, you're annoying and nerdy and stuff, but-."
"Oh geez, thanks," she sarcastically quipped as she rolled her eyes.
"Hey! I'm not finished!" I glared at her as I huffed, sitting back in my chair as I cross my arms over my chest. Tasha gave me a dour look in return as she signalled for me to continue. "As I was saying, you're the most aggravating person I've ever met, but you're also kinda cool."
"You think I'm cool?" Tasha asked in disbelief, her expression cynical. I nodded.
"Kinda cool. Anyway, I was trying to apologise earlier before Cox charged in, so I'll say it now: I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have said those things to you and if it makes you feel better, you can hit me again… But maybe when we're out of school and not so hard?"
"No," she laughed, "I don't think I'll be doing that again. Violence isn't really my style."
"But I thought you wanted to join the army?"
"You put me off."
"Oh. Sorry."
"I wasn't seriously considering it anyway."
"I guess I'll stop calling you Sargent Smasha then?"
"Please do."
"Okay," I nodded as I gave her a sheepish smile. It was nice talking to her like this, refreshing even. Normally we just threw insults at each other until she gave me the cold shoulder, but this was an actual conversation, although it was a little strained. "Look, how about we call a truce?"
"A truce?"
"Yeah. Y'know, try to be civil to each other and all that. As I said, you're kinda cool and I… well, I could do with less enemies," I finished with a weak grin, but I managed to elicit a snigger from her with my half-joke. She held out her hand and I accepted, noting how cool it was as we shook hands.
"Can you even remember how we started fighting in the first place?" Tasha mused out loud once we lost contact, although I instantly wanted to take her hand again. My cheeks warmed in embarrassment at the recollection.
"It was in art class. I mistook your picture of a cat for a giraffe."
"Oh." She was blushing harder than me, but that was understandable.
There was a long pause and I found my gaze was travelling along her legs again, so I quickly snapped it away before she noticed. I struggled to find something to say. That's when I had the idea.
"Erm, are you doing anything later?"
"Homework and maybe a few chores," she replied flatly. I stare at her in horror.
"Homework on a Friday night? Are you crazy? That's what Sunday is for!"
"Not much else to do," Tasha said with a shrug, looking uncharacteristically shy as she shifted uncomfortably and averted her eyes. She was the stoic kind of introvert, but at that moment she was so cute I found it hard to resist hugging her. I gripped the back of my chair hard in order to restrain myself as I leaned over to put myself in her vision.
"Then come out with me tonight." The shocked look on face urged me to hurriedly continue, "There's a beach party and there's a group of us going. There's going to be alcohol, but you don't have to drink and if you do you can always crash at my place if you don't want your aunt to find out."
"I don't know…"
"Come on, it'll be fun!"
"Who's going?" She still looked uncertain, but I could tell she was coming around to the idea.
"Dean Thornton, Jess Lisle, Laura Newton, Jack Swailes, Pip Hopkins, Amelia Harper, Mark Laney, Stuart Cadwell… Errr… There's a bunch of other people too, but I'm not sure about them."
"I see… I'll ask my aunt, but it shouldn't be a problem."
"Sweet," I grinned giddily, feeling elated that she accepted. I could have fist-pumped the air, but I figured that would be going too far. "I'll give you my address and you can meet us there."
"Great," she returned my smile, finally looking excited about the prospect. Tasha was so gorgeous, but the effect her smile had on me was astounding; my skin tingled as I swear my heart skipped a beat.
"Are you stable?" I suddenly asked, surprising even myself. It took me a moment to remember I was referring to my conversation with Dean before my fight with Tasha. It was a weird question, but I wanted to know. I wanted to know whether there could be a chance for us.
Tasha frowned and opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything the clicking of high heeled shoes came from the hallway through the open door. In a flash, Tasha smoothly jumped up and returned to her seat, sitting down in time as Mrs Cox poked her head through the door.
"Has Miss Larrington gone home?" Her lips thinned as she didn't wait for a reply. "Very well, I'll be in here shortly. I trust that you've been behaving yourselves."
She withdrew and the sounds of her entering her office allowed us to relax. I sent my best smirk at Tasha and she gave a smile back, sending my stomach flipping with joy. Maybe this truce could lead on to bigger and better things? Who knows, by the end of the night I could be lip-locked with the sexy Tasha Burrows. Or if not, then at least we could be friends and I could work on the relationship part later.
Tonight was going to be awesome anyway, but now it was going to be epic.