page 6

“Oh. Hello, Maggie,” Charlotte smiled at me serenely. “How nice to see you again.”

I gaped at her, speechless. I didn’t want to know what my face looked like. Andrew shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Hey, Maggie.”

I nodded. “Um…well, I have to go…” I tried to sidle past them.

“Detention?” asked Andrew.

I nodded, then stopped. “Hey. How did you know?”

Andrew opened his mouth, then stopped as Charlotte put a hand on the crook of his elbow. He shrugged. “I’ll tell you later, and Cam.”

I glared at him, and stalked into the hall. As I turned towards Mrs. Oswald’s classroom, I saw the two silhouettes press against each other again.

I paused at the door of the classroom and sighed. Most of the people in the room were strangers.
Only Fred, who shared the detention room with me many times before, nodded at me when I sat down beside him.

“Sup?”

I shrugged, ignoring the screaming, hysterical voice in my head, “Not much. You?”

Fred popped his gum. “Want one?” he held out a pack of Trident. I listened. Mrs. Oswald was nowhere near. I selected a piece. I crumbled up the wrapper in my hand and shoved it in my pocket as I rolled up the stick of gum in a cylindrical tube. I chewed it, letting the watermelon flavored juices fill my mouth. “What’d you get in for?” he joked.

I laughed. “Fell asleep. You?”

“Late for the third day in a row,” Fred grimaced, “I’m always caught.”

“Ah.” I thought of Sam, who had been drooling into his sleep just a few seats away from me. Yet
Mrs. Oswald had caught me, not Sam.

Fred shrugged, “one of these days, we’ll get out share of luck back.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like luck is rationed.”

“Be quiet!” Mrs. Oswald tapped into the classroom in her chunky heels. Her flower printed dress flapped as she stepped over to my desk. “No talking in detention, Miss Scrivenor, or you will learn this tomorrow afternoon.”

I nodded, mouth tightly shut. Mrs. Oswald shot me a stern look and strode over to her desk, where she proceeded to watch us over her hawk-like nose, her mouth a thin slash on her face.
Fred and I exchanged glances before reaching into our backpacks and taking out books. I stole a glance around the classroom. The girl in front of me, with curly blond hair and a sour expression was doodling pictures in her notebook. I peered closely over her shoulder. It was Mrs. Oswald with an agonized expression on her face. A large circular object, probably a boulder, was crushing her. From the cartoon Mrs. Oswald’s gaping mouth, the girl was drawing a large speech bubble. I shook my head and began to read. However, I was unable to concentrate. I wondered if Charlotte and Andrew were still in the dark teacher’s lounge. My mind kept replaying the whole event, Charlotte and Andrew, grasping at, completely engrossed in each other. Then Andrew, suddenly unwilling to talk, when twice before he had wanted to say something. I needed to talk to Cameron.

The hour long detention crawled by uneventfully. The clock’s normally silent ticking was amplified in the silent room. Every second was announced clearly; each minute mocked our impatience. When Mrs. Oswald released us, I waved goodbye to Fred and sped down the hall to the teacher’s lounge. I was surprised and annoyed to find the door locked. I fumbled in my hair for my hairpin and blew away the strands of hair that fell into my face. I stuck the pin in the lock and shoved open the door, flicking on the lights in one swift motion. “Hello?” I called.