***

  It only takes a minute for me to reach my history class. I peer through the glass window and spot Ms. Sculley hovering near the board. I wait until she turns around to write something on the whiteboard before I sneak in. I see her swivel on her heels and I take my chance. Quietly I push the door open. It releases a high pitched squeak. I close my eyes and cringe. I pop one eye open and see her back is still turned and release a sigh of relief. 

  Several students near the front row turn to look at me with bored expressions. One even smirks at me. I close the door and glance at the clock above the doorway. I'm only 15 minutes late. I tip toe to an empty desk located at the back of the class, avoiding desks left and right. I slip into the chair and arrange my books neatly on my desk. Once I have them set up how I like them I slouch back allowing the desk to shield me from view.

  "How nice of you to join us Ms. Harris," Ms. Sculley says. I look up over my desk to see her staring at me through her dark rimmed glasses which make her eyes look twice as big than they actually are. Her grey hair sticks messily out of her bun. She was at least 60 years old but man did she have the hearing of a hawk.

"It won't happen again," I assure her.

"It better not. And to ensure that I will see you after school in detention."

Ah crap.

A series of oo's resonates in the classroom. All 20 pairs of eyes turn to look at me. Never have I gotten a detention in my previous 3 years of school. And, to be honest, I'm surprised I haven't gotten a detention yet for skipping classes which was unusual behaviour for me. I was the "little miss perfect of the school."

I watch as she goes to her desk and opens a drawer. She pulls out a note pad of pink paper and begins to scribble down some information glancing at me every few seconds. She tears the slip off and sticks her hand out waiting for me to retrieve it. Her foot taps impatiently against the cheap tile. Reluctantly, I walk and pick it out of her hand.

She nods in approval and continues on with her incessant babbling about the French Revolution. I glance around the room. Everyone else in the class mirrors my bored expression. All except for a red head boy who stares at Ms. Sculley and clings on to every word she says.

  "And thus concludes out unit on the French Revolution," she says while closing a text book. I hadn't payed attention to a word she said. It had all faded into a low mumbling.

  A few people cheer and I hear one mutter a thank you. I collect my books and wait for the bell the ring for my next period class.

"Remember your assignment for this into will be due next Wednesday. Have a good day and Ms. Harris I expect to see you after school," she warns. Like I could forget.

  In a matter of seconds the bell releases a shrill cry. All the students file out into the hall and head off in various directions.

  I have all my books, so I decide to wait for Vicky at her locker. Her locker is located just a few lockers down from the next class which we conveniently have together.

  From down the hall I can see her brown head bobbing rhymically as she skips- I mean literally skips like a 5 year old- down the hall. She was always in a happy mood and when she wasn't you better find the nearest bomb shelter because it was like world war 3 was starting. She was scary.

  She spots me at her locker. She picks up her pace and pulls me into a hug.

  "I heard about lunch from Meghan. I'm so sorry i wasn't there. I feel like a crappy friend. I was a little preoccupied," she admits sheepishly.

  "It's cool. I've moved on."

  She puts on a smile. "Good I'm glad to hear that."

  She turns to walk to class, but I grab her arm. She stops and cocks her head to the side.

  "I'm sorry, but I can't give you a ride tonight."

  "How come?"

  "Ikindagotdetention," I say so fast that you can't separate one word from another and it forms one giant word.

  "Okay. Now say that one more time but slower," she puts extra emphasis on the word slower.

  "I got detention," I repeat clearer. Her eyes widen and she smacks my arm with her book playfully.

  "Good girls are bad girl's who haven't been caught. But this good girl finally is in trouble. What did you do?"

  "I was late to one of Ms. Sculley's history classes."

  "That old bat. I guarantee she finds enjoyment in making students suffer. She's harsh but whatever."

  "How will you get home?" I ask concerned.

  "It just so happens I got detention too," she boasts. I swear she's proud of getting detentions. It's like some accomplishment to her.

  "What did you do?"

  "It's a long story. I'll tell you in detention. We're going to be late to class so let's go," she says while looping her arm through mine and dragging me down the hall to our class.

  We enter with a couple minutes to spare. We take our usual side by side seats in the middle of the class. She taps her fingers against the cheap wood table. The class hasn't started yet and students come into the room in a continuous flow.

  "Vicky I need to ask you a favor."

  Her fingers stop mid tap and she slowly turns to face me. "What's up?"

  "Do you still have Jace's number?"

  "Yes," she answers.

  "Good. I need you to text Jace. We aren't exactly talking at the moment. Can you ask him what the girl looked like who bumped into him at the party?" If my suspicions are correct then it's the same girl who bribed Bryan. Unless she has an accomplice.

  "Is this about getting revenge? Are we going to hunt her down and make her regret messing up your relationship with Jace? I have a binder filled with revenge plans," she says menacingly. Remind me never to piss off this girl.

  "Yes," I lie. No, I just want to know if it's the same girl as Bryan's and see if I can identify her based on information I get on her appearance.

  "I like this new you. You've changed. I'll do it just give me a sec," she says while pulling out her phone. "And there."

I prop my head onto my hand and wait for her to tell me his response.

"He said why does it matter?"

"Um tell him it's because she insulted you at the party and you're trying to hint her down." I suck at lying.

She types viciously on her phone. Her phone vibrates a second later.

"She was blonde. I couldn't make out a face because it was dark. She was short too," she reads aloud. She looks up at me and I consider this. This blonde hair fits Bryan's vivid description. She was short too. This narrows it done to many people.

"Thanks Vick. I appreciate your effort," I smile warmly at her. On cue, the teacher walks in and begins the lesson before Vicky can reply.

Detention cannot come soon enough.

***

A/N-Not very eventful i know. I want to go back and revise some of the previous chapters and add some minor details. A new chapter will be uploaded eventually but i don't know when. Vote & comment.

~Mar