Detention.
Detention smelled like old carpet and cheaper disinfectant.
The kind of room forgotten by time, with crooked blinds and desks scraped raw by generations of boredom.
I stepped in, noticing how it was stuffy and filled with stale air.
There were only a handful of students already seated, sprawled in various degrees of disdain. There was one girl with mascara smudged in intentional chaos, her lipstick bright and red. Next up, two boys from the track team who looked like they were planning to nap through the hour, and a quiet girl I vaguely recognized from Advanced Calculus.
I slid into a desk at the far back, pulled out my phone, and texted Freya.
[To Freya]
Detention. North Wing. Headmaster's orders. I swear I'm going to combust.
There was no reply yet. Maybe she was still in class, or maybe she was trying not to hunt down Elias with a spork.
"Look who decided to join the club." I heard.
The voice was light, teasing, and unfamiliar. I looked up.
