Desolation Row [MxM]

I wasn't thrilled with the idea of going to detention. But I was even less thrilled when the teacher who was holding it in her room looked up at me, glancing me over before she hummed a little. “Not even a week in and already in detention. Not looking good, Mr. Halcomb,” she remarked, gesturing toward the desks. I hesitated, glancing around the small room and trying to decide the best spot to sit in when two people caught my attention. One was the same guy I'd run into the day before, and he was in the back of the room, talking to a dark skinned girl with glasses and short hair, and shorts that looked like they were way too short for dress code.

The guy noticed my staring, turning away from the girl to look at me. “Sorry, can we help you?” he asked, the girl beside him snickering a little. I quickly ducked my head and chose a seat near the front of the room, still hearing them behind me, whispering and laughing quietly. The room filled with other students pretty quickly, and I shrunk down in my seat as some of them kept looking over at me, staring. The feeling was massively uncomfortable.

“So, detention,” the teacher said, leaning back against her desk with a shrug. “Most of you know how this goes by now, some of you don't. You've got one hour to write a paper on what you did to get here, and why you did it. No less than a full page. I'd get started if I were some of you. Lord knows it'll take the whole hour.”

The sounds of rustling around me made me sit up a little straighter as the teacher walked around to sit at her desk, reaching into my bag for a notebook and a pen.

I hadn't really done anything. I skipped lunch, but I failed to see how that was a big deal. Authority figures would skip lunch too, if they were me.

But now I had to write a whole page on it? It was easy enough, sure. It just seemed a little unnecessary.

It took forty-five minutes to finish the assignment, and for the last fifteen, they were spent staring out a window. September was an interesting month. Sometimes it was colder, sometimes it was warmer. Most of the time I was able to go with short sleeves, which was nice. Long sleeves were a little uncomfortable.

I still had eight more months to go. And then a whole year after that. Before, at Lakeview, it'd felt like school was going by so fast. Now it seemed like the days were dragging, and I wanted nothing more than to just skip right to graduation, get my diploma, and get out of there.

“Alright, times up,” the teacher said suddenly, making me jump in my seat and face forward again as she gestured to her desk. “Drop your papers off up here, and you're good to go. Remember that papers without names will not be counted, so your detention will also not be counted. Some of you can't afford that. Just keep that in mind.”

I quickly wrote my name at the top of the paper before ripping it out of the notebook, collecting my things and going up to the desk. I set my paper down, and the teacher barely gave me a glance as I walked out of the room quickly, heading for the parking lot.

The Junior parking lot was a little further than the Senior one, but I was just glad that I finally had my car back. I could go to school and come home on my own, and didn't need to worry about Charlie or the bus.

Though with how my luck was going, I wouldn't be surprised if my car broke down.

Shaking my head a little at the thought, I fumbled with trying to get my keys out of my pocket, losing grip on them as someone bumped into my shoulder, and they fell onto the asphalt.

“Oh, I am so sorry, my bad, man,” someone said, making me look up to see the blue-eyed guy again. He was smirking as he said it, and the girl from before was with him, smiling.

“God, you're such an asshole sometimes,” she told him. He only shrugged as I bent down to pick my keys back up, my hands shaking slightly as I tried to hurry to my car. It was only a few feet away, it wasn't that hard to get to. But the few steps felt like they took forever, like I couldn't get there fast enough before I slammed my door and leaned back in the driver's seat for a minute. I couldn't even start the car. I just couldn't find the motivation to move. When I finally did, I'd already been sitting there for about five minutes, and all the other cars had cleared out.

I didn't pay any attention to is as I slid my key into the ignition and turned the car on.

The drive home felt similar, like no matter how fast I went, I couldn't get there in time. I was just so tired of being out of the house, around other people. When I finally pulled into my parking space, I couldn't exit the car. I physically couldn't make myself reach for the door. My chest felt tight and constricted, and I almost felt sick to my stomach. So instead I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to the top of the steering wheel as my eyes clouded over.

I must've sat there for about half an hour, just with my head on the steering wheel and crying. I needed to get out though, I couldn't spend all night in the car. However appealing it might be.

Eventually, I was able to drag myself out of the vehicle, slowly making my way up to the apartment and fiddling with my keys in front of the door, trying to find the right one despite the shakiness I still had.

“Oh, this is just too perfect.”

I jumped a little, turning to the source of the voice. It was the blue-eyed guy, leaning against the door next to mine casually as he looked me over. “You live here? Guess that makes us neighbors, huh?” he said, another smirk pulling at his mouth. I didn't respond, turning and trying to get in the door as quickly as I could, still being able to hear his laughter as I shut the door loudly behind myself.

Why did he keep popping up? I didn't even know his name, I just kept calling him blue-eyed guy. And now he was apparently my neighbor. Fantastic.

I tried not to think on it too long, going into the apartment and dropping my things off in my room before going to the bathroom to wash my face off. I could still see tear tracks going down my cheeks, and hoped to God that blue-eyed guy hadn't seen those as well. It'd just be another thing to pick on, for him.

Why was he like that? Why was everyone like that? I didn't even know any of these people, what made them suddenly decide that I was the perfect person for the entire school to mess with? I hated it. I wanted to go back home. I wanted to go back to Lakeview, I wanted to still be dating Alex, like I should be. I didn't want anything to do with the people at Arbor Heights.

Around eight Charlie came home, which was an unexpected surprise. I'd been doing homework at the table in the living room to resist the urge to go right to bed, and I hoped he wasn't in much of a talking mood.

“Hey, kiddo. Got off work early. How was school?” he asked, hanging his jacket up by the door as I fiddled with my pencil.

“It was fine,” I answered, shrugging slightly. Charlie nodded a little, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up as he walked into the kitchen. It was quiet as he moved around in there, and I thought that maybe he'd be done with any conversation, trying to focus on my work again. That thought was short lived though, as a few minutes later he appeared in the doorway.

“And how was detention?”

My hand froze over a worksheet, and I could feel my eyes widen as I glanced up at him. I hadn't told him about it, so how did he know?

“Principle called yesterday before I left for work. Said you had it for skipping a class.”

I cleared my throat a little, shifting uncomfortably. “It was lunch, technically.”

“Whatever it was. Since you already got detention, I'm not gonna ream you out about it,” he said, putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he looked at me. “Just make sure you stay in class, okay? With how good your grades are, it'd be a shame if they dropped just because you decided to take up skipping.”

Charlie left it at that, thankfully, and I managed to get my homework done pretty quickly, taking my things with me back to the bedroom and telling him I was going to bed. I'd had enough fun for one day.