Forever And Eternally

Dignity and Detention

Oh and before you read this, keep in mind that Samuel is a teenager and he's a boy and that as a teenager he will swear (a lot in this case) and since he's a boy he will talk about girl often. don't try and oppose to this fact, boys, well i guess from my perspective all i see (hear) is boys talking about girls, most of the time. But hey that's an opportunity for character development. and if you don't read this prone to be controversial paragraph about boys only talking about girls, then cool.

**********************

Dignity and Detentions

"So that's why you were unable to do your homework?"

I nodded.

"Because you 'gave it to a homeless man to help him insulate his cardboard box'. Right?"

I nodded again as the rest of the class snickered, desperately restraining themselves from bursting out laughing. The entire thing was Jamie's idea. He gave me the homework excuse and after I flipped him off for his stupidity, I panicked when Mrs Kelley asked for my homework and ended up reciting the stupid excuse.

"Detention Samuel." Mrs Kelley's voice was firm and angry and I gulped from the concealed rage within. Okay, now I've got myself on the bad side of my favourite teacher. What joy.

Sitting back in my seat, I glanced beside me to see nothing but an empty seat. Where was she? I didn't have my other class today, so I couldn't see her anyway. But surely Imogen was present in school? Actually, I hadn't seen her at lunch so perhaps she was absent.

Quickly removing Imogen from my mind I slumped back in my seat and tiredly listened to Tracey's story about dragons and fairies mating. Fucking weirdo.

Abruptly in the middle of the two dragons fighting over Tinkerbelle, the door creaked open. Imogen stood outside the door for a split second before beckoning towards Mrs Kelley.

"...that's not an excuse for being twenty minutes late to my lesson, Miss Freigh. I'm going to have to give you a detention." Mrs Kelley handed her a green note.

Imogen couldn't have a detention. If she was late... With her lip quivering, her hair fell gloomily into her face as she made her way to her seat. I looked at her. Her hands were on her lap and she didn't sit on the chair properly. Her arse was practically half on it, appearing like she was going to fall any second. Her dark hair covered her face as she sat immobile.

My hands itched to my pen and notebook. I scribbled on it, teared the page off, folded it into squares and pushed it to her side of the table. Her hair ruffled on her shoulders, indicating that she had manavured around. A couple minutes later, her sleeve covered hand plucked the paper from the desk and placed it on her lap, gingerly opening it up.

It looks like we're going to be detention buddies today.

I grimaced at how doltish it made me seem. Detention buddies. How on earth did I manage to think of that one? Her head cocked to the left, perhaps in confusion of how there could be such an embarrassing human being living on this wretched earth?

Her hand beneath her sleeve retrieved the black ball-point pen on her desk, enabling her to write her reply. The anticipation was building up so quickly it almost made me feel sick. I could feel my hands begin to moisture and so as I wiped them against my jeans, I desprately tried to think of a valid reason why my mind and body reacted this way towards that little helpless, strange girl. It kind of scared me of how it had only been a few days and she would be the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. Or how she would the first when I woke up. Or how she would be the first one I wanted to see.

Dear God, I fucking hate being a hormonal teenage boy.

However, Imogen Freigh was by far not my type. I liked my girl with prep in their walk, not them slouching. I like it when my girl looks me in the eye when she speaks, showing me that they aren't afraid of me; not when the girl doesn't talk to me and has me resort to passing notes to her like a fucking, irritating primary kid.

During my debate among myself, Imogen had handed me her reply as inconspicuously as can be. I eyed the paper scrutinizingly pondering on the thought of whether it was right to do this. I probably come across as a pitiful, puppy loving boy to her. Imogen was most likely thinking of how stupid I was. How annoying I am. She was mocking me, she had to be. No one in their right mind would reject me without having an ulterior motive

Anger fumed within me and I sat up in a rigid stance. Ten minutes had passed and the paper was left there, unopened. I decided to ignore it. At the end of the lesson, Mrs Kelley made an announcement.

"For this year's assignment which will count for eighty percent of your final grade, it will be to write a minimum of five thousand words short story about your own idea of any genre; prior to why we began our week with story writing. So feel free to think about what you want you want your project to be. Any questions?"

A few hands went up.

"Before you ask, no I will not accept a ten thousand word piece about the joy of fantasy teenager sex."

A few hands went down.

The class was dismissed and Imogen seemed to be looking my way for a split second before turning back to the front. I leaned against my chair, closing my eyes. Fucking stupid motherfucking detention. Reaching down to my pocket, I retrieved my phone and quickly texted Jamie about having detention. He replies that he'll hang out with Skylar and Leon at the library.

"Now, Mr Knite, Miss Freigh. I will not accept these unnecessary disturbances and if you both are either late or disobey my orders, I won't hesitate to call your parents or give you an hours detention. Is that clear?" Mrs Kelley demanded sternly.

I nodded and then we were finally dismissed. Reaching for my books, I took a glimpse of the paper as it fell into my bag. Imogen was already out of the room before I had even put my chair in. Gleaming, I raced after her catching her by a locker, frantically prodding in the combination. WIthout thinking twice I slam my hand on a nearby locker, my arm creating a barrier in order to prevent her from escape. She froze.

"Don't you dare try and make fun out of me, Imogen," I said bitterly. "If you think I'm one to fall under one of your traps to fool me, think again."

Her body shook and it slouched in a defenceless stance, as if she had given up. It was then when I noticed that I was grasping her wrist tightly at my side and I was startled by the next movement.

"Please... don't..."

The delicacy of her tone reminded me of a child, innocent and fresh. It made my heart beat faster and I liked the way she sounded. Removing my tight grip from her, I stepped backwards to which she took that as an opening to sprint away out of the building.

Her voice rang in my ears. The pitch of it, the hesitant pause before each word making it sound like a whisper. I really liked it.

Recalling the scene, I realized how intimidating and stupid I came across. I let my ego get the better of me, but this time I know I pushed it too far. Hearing her voice in my head, I could now hear the fear, the desperation laced within it. She was scared- of me. I scared her.

"Hey Samuel!"

I heard my best friend call out to me but I didn't listen, I didn't turn around, I was too lost in thought of why it looked like Imogen was all too familiar with what happened today.

HEY EVERYONE. I CANT PUT MY SINCERITY INTO WORDS. I AM SO EVERY SORRY FOR THE LONG ASSED WAIT. SORRRRRYYRYIEFNFIWNFO[ENFNFONFON

I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS CHAPTER EVEN IF IT IS A BIT SHORTER THAN NORMAL :/

BYAH!