pencil case off the edge of the desk, catching it just before it fell and pens clattered everywhere. I breathed a big sigh of relief as I pulled the pencil case into my lap, smiling a small smile at Ballantine, who was waiting with amused interest. I nervously tucked a strand of hair behind my ear as I delved into the recess of my case, hunting for the best pen I could find. I opted for a black ink ballpoint with a retractable clicker.
Nice.
I held it out to him, my heart rate spiking as he took it from my clasp, his finger once again brushing against me in the simplest and briefest touch, but it was enough to have me replaying and analysing every aspect of it for the rest of the day.
‘Thanks,’ he whispered, with a crooked smile.
I had an image of me fainting at the sight of that devilish smile, eyes rolling to the back of my head, sliding under the desk unconscious. Instead, I cleared my throat and faced forward, glancing around the room. It suddenly occurred to me that either Paradise City had a school full of impeccably behaved students or we were just the really bad ones, segregated from the rest of the school, kind of maximum security, or maybe this was just the section for seniors? I was dying to know but didn’t dare ask. Not that I minded sharing detention solely with Ballantine and Boon. And the fact that, even with a massive empty classroom, they opted to sit next to me was a rather dramatic change after the seating fiasco of my first day.
I pulled out what looked like an English assignment and read through the bullet points of the criteria, trying to focus my mind. Not so easily achievable when a triangular piece of paper flicked into my temple and landed on the back of my hand. I slowly shifted my eyes to the two other students in the class. They sported excellent poker faces, looking down at their books with deep, intense interest.
I glanced up to Mr Anderson, who was intently studying his racing form and pressing in the earbud; it must have been mid-race because he was sitting on the edge of his seat mouthing ‘Come on, come on’ under his breath. I took the moment of his distraction to slide the paper into my lap and unfold it carefully to read:
Seriously, what did you do?
It was Boon. I knew this much because it was scrawled in blue ink, not the black I had given Ballantine.
I bit my lip.
What did I do?
In any case, honesty was always the best policy, right? Plus, there was a little part of me – okay, a huge part of me – that wanted to see his reaction.
Mr Anderson fist-pumped the air, well and truly distracted, as I jotted down my response.
I got caught breaking into the staff room :(
I thought the sad face was a nice little touch. I refolded the note and tugged gently on Ballantine’s shirt, motioning for the pass down. His head snapped around in surprise as he eyed the piece of paper with interest, taking it from me and discreetly passing it to Boon.
Boon slowly unfolded it much like I had, with an ever-watchful gaze on Mr Anderson. When his serious blue eyes lowered, to tick over my response, the instantaneous rise of both his brows was priceless; I had to force myself not to laugh. Ballantine’s interest piqued, he grabbed the note from Boon and a small smile creased the corner of his mouth, his brow kinking in surprise. He glanced my way as if gauging whether I was telling the truth or not.
I merely shrugged, as if to say ‘What’s a girl to do?’ As I returned to study my English assignment I could still feel the full weight of Ballantine’s eyes on me, but I just straightened my spine and read on in confidence. I would leave the details up to their imaginations, let them wonder what would possess a new girl to act in such a way, allow myself a certain amount of mystery, I thought. In actual fact, there was more mystery surrounding Ballantine than there was me. Everyone would know by now that I was Amanda’s country bumpkin cousin from Hicksville.
Nice.
I held it out to him, my heart rate spiking as he took it from my clasp, his finger once again brushing against me in the simplest and briefest touch, but it was enough to have me replaying and analysing every aspect of it for the rest of the day.
‘Thanks,’ he whispered, with a crooked smile.
I had an image of me fainting at the sight of that devilish smile, eyes rolling to the back of my head, sliding under the desk unconscious. Instead, I cleared my throat and faced forward, glancing around the room. It suddenly occurred to me that either Paradise City had a school full of impeccably behaved students or we were just the really bad ones, segregated from the rest of the school, kind of maximum security, or maybe this was just the section for seniors? I was dying to know but didn’t dare ask. Not that I minded sharing detention solely with Ballantine and Boon. And the fact that, even with a massive empty classroom, they opted to sit next to me was a rather dramatic change after the seating fiasco of my first day.
I pulled out what looked like an English assignment and read through the bullet points of the criteria, trying to focus my mind. Not so easily achievable when a triangular piece of paper flicked into my temple and landed on the back of my hand. I slowly shifted my eyes to the two other students in the class. They sported excellent poker faces, looking down at their books with deep, intense interest.
I glanced up to Mr Anderson, who was intently studying his racing form and pressing in the earbud; it must have been mid-race because he was sitting on the edge of his seat mouthing ‘Come on, come on’ under his breath. I took the moment of his distraction to slide the paper into my lap and unfold it carefully to read:
Seriously, what did you do?
It was Boon. I knew this much because it was scrawled in blue ink, not the black I had given Ballantine.
I bit my lip.
What did I do?
In any case, honesty was always the best policy, right? Plus, there was a little part of me – okay, a huge part of me – that wanted to see his reaction.
Mr Anderson fist-pumped the air, well and truly distracted, as I jotted down my response.
I got caught breaking into the staff room :(
I thought the sad face was a nice little touch. I refolded the note and tugged gently on Ballantine’s shirt, motioning for the pass down. His head snapped around in surprise as he eyed the piece of paper with interest, taking it from me and discreetly passing it to Boon.
Boon slowly unfolded it much like I had, with an ever-watchful gaze on Mr Anderson. When his serious blue eyes lowered, to tick over my response, the instantaneous rise of both his brows was priceless; I had to force myself not to laugh. Ballantine’s interest piqued, he grabbed the note from Boon and a small smile creased the corner of his mouth, his brow kinking in surprise. He glanced my way as if gauging whether I was telling the truth or not.
I merely shrugged, as if to say ‘What’s a girl to do?’ As I returned to study my English assignment I could still feel the full weight of Ballantine’s eyes on me, but I just straightened my spine and read on in confidence. I would leave the details up to their imaginations, let them wonder what would possess a new girl to act in such a way, allow myself a certain amount of mystery, I thought. In actual fact, there was more mystery surrounding Ballantine than there was me. Everyone would know by now that I was Amanda’s country bumpkin cousin from Hicksville.
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