Chapter 43: Detention

"What time are you leaving after school?" I ask Tristan.

"Around five. Why?" He asks.

"Why so late?" I question curiously.

"Detention." I nod.

"Can I borrow your car?" I ask sweetly, batting my long eyelashes for extra effect.

"You can, but you may not." He refuses.

"Seriously? This isn't english class," I deadpan. "Please my chocolate sugar with nutella and Oreo cookies and extra mustard sauce?" I beg.

"You ruined it with the mustard sauce."

"Just give me the damn keys!" I shout too loudly for the whole class to hear.

"You have a problem Hailey?" Mr Thompson raises his eyebrow at me.

"No sir," I reply and turn back to Tristan. "Chicken." I mutter.

"Excuse me?" Mr Thompson's voice is iced with fury and smoke almost escapes through his parabolic ears.

"N-nothing sir." I say.

"Well, 'nothing' just landed you in detention."

"Great." I mutter sarcastically.

"Want to make it two days?"

"No."

Tristan's eyes glisten with tears threatening to fall down his cheeks. He has his hand on his lips to stop himself from laughing out loud and the urge to slap the living daylights out of him increases with each second.

"You're a jerk." I whisper so that only Tristan can hear.

"At least you don't need to borrow my car anymore." He winks at me.

"At least I know not to kiss you anymore." I mutter mischievously.

"It's not like I want to anyway." He says nonchalantly, but I can see through his facade that he is lying.

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Maybe okay can be our never." I grin.

"Geek." He rolls his eyes.

"Jerk."

"Angel."

"Chicken."

"Where are we going with this?" He laughs.

"I don't know." I shrug.

See? That's why I enjoy Tristan's company. Awkwardness barely overshadows us; we are comfortable with each other. Its times like these that I like to savour and treasure, because you'll never know when will it be the last time your eyes ever glance at such a scene. Time flies, and tragedies comedies are on the same plane as it.

.........................

"So..." I start off. "There's a slight problem."

"Detention." Peyton sighs.

"How did you know?" I ask and I don't know whether I should feel offended by that.

"Wild guess, although I was hoping I was wrong."

"I'll make it up to you. I promise." I hug her tightly, probably knocking out her oxygen supply in the process.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... alright." She pats my back and I can already imagine her eye roll.

"I love you!"

"I know!" She exclaims, her eyes popping out and shining ever so brightly. I think I can see a light bulb next to her head and I stare at her grinning self waiting for her to spill the idea she had just cooked up in her furnace.

"Jordan. Party." Those two words are enough to kick my mind back to memory land, reminding me of Jordan's earlier request.

"You want me to go, don't you?"

"Yep. You owe me," she states. "Plus, he's our friend. Let's support him." She pouts and holds onto my arm like a toddler begging to be picked up. Her lips quiver in expectance, trying to lure me into her trap of puppy eyes.

"Fine." I huff out.

"Thank you!"

I feel a buzz in my back jean pocket and the typical IPhone message tone fills my ear. I dig for the rectangle electronic in my back jean pocket and I open it to see a message from Tristan.

Tristan
Hurry up. Detention started 5 minutes ago :)

Uh oh.

"I have to go." I tell Peyton. "Before I get a second detention."

"Okay. Enjoy!"

Enjoy? Enjoy detention?

Oh.

Oh.

She's referring to Tristan. I roll my eyes and my legs automatically pick up speed as I run down the almost empty hallways. The sound of my feet slapping against the hard floor resonates behind me, causing few teachers to tell me to stop running, but I ignore them.

Finally reaching the detention class, I swing the door open and I find a smirking Tristan and Mr Thompson, who's probably on a highway to dreamland.

"Five minutes early. Didn't know you liked detention that much." A smirk pulls his upwards, mocking me on how he managed to trick me.

"Tristan Lesley Wilder," I say, although his middle name is actually Lucas. "You better protect your freakin' family or else they will take a hard blow any second from now and I promise you that you will be begging for oxygen." Fury radiates off of my flushed face, my fists are clenched, ready to knock out the idiot of a jerk in front of me.

Realising what I'm implying, fear begins to swirl in his brown eyes, and his cheeks resemble a tomato. "T-there's no need to be harsh now. At least you're not late."

"You are a chicken noodle soup, you know that?" I throw myself on a seat next to him, before crossing my arms in annoyance.

"I'm starting to think you have a weird fascination about chickens."

"Shut up before I staple your mouth and cut off your tongue."

"How would you cut off my tongue if you stap---"

"Zip it!" I cut him off.

"Someone's PMSing." I hear him mutter to himself.

After a few minutes of silence, a buzz tickles my derriere and I pull my phone out of my pocket to see another message notification occupying a small part of the screen.

Unknown:
Boss expects you today. DON'T FORGET.

Great.

"Henry wants to see me." I bury my face in my arms folded across the table.

"Great."

Exactly what I said.

..................

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