The Last Kiss

Chapter 11

The last time I visited this wonderful detention room had been a year ago; me and the entire Algebra class including Kirsten and Arielle. It was because of Andra and her herd of Barbies. They’d organize a Book Drop at Algebra. At exactly 11:00 pm, all of us dropped our books while the monster Mr. Padgett was discussing. All of us except the Barbies. That got the rest of the class into detention. See? Andra’s a bitch. I can’t understand why Lance…

            As I got inside, it felt like I’d stepped into a major case of déjà vu. Only now I was alone. But I can manage this!

            Mrs. Stone, who was a hard woman as her last name, shot me a look from her desk, like I’m in deep trouble. And as I stared at her eyes beneath her spectacles, I swallowed hard and bit my lip. They were seemed turning into slits; just like those of her cat, Veronica, that I noticed was curled into a ball in her desk. Oh! I hate that cat. Well, I hate cats.

            Maybe I am really into a big trouble. I wonder what she’ll gonnalet me do this time.

            I shuddered at the thought.

            “Well, Riley?” her voice was thin and cold.

            “Good afternoon, Mrs. Stone,” I flashed her a smile. Maybe if I’ll try to be nice she’ll let me go early.

            “May I have your slip?”

            I approached her desk and retrieved on my bag the detention slip Mr. Heffley had given me. I need Mrs. Stone to sign it before I give it back to him. That, of course, needed real effort.

            “Settle yourself anywhere you like, Riley,” she said as she signed the slip and slipped it under the book. “Let’s wait for Lance …” she paused as she inquired into her wristwatch. And I cringed as she said his name. “… for five minutes.”

            I turned and sauntered around the room. The benches in this room don’t have ledges to lean on, and I felt like leaning on. I was sleepy.

            I sat at the farthest bench, jiggling my legs.

            Lance.He’d be here with me.

 But then again, there were two of them that had the same name here in CH. There’s still a 50% chance that it would and would not be him. I hoped it would not be him. Mostly because I don’t want to see him, if possible.

            But in the back of my mind, I was wishing it would be him. Because no matter how much I say to myself I don’t want to see him, there’s a bigger part of me that wanted to be with him. That longed for him. That missed him. That still loved him.

            I wanted to ask Mrs. Stone, who was now reading a book called House of Night (Seriously. She was), if it’s Lance Weiner we’re waiting. But I was answered as he appeared by the door.

            It’s really him.

            He paused by the doorway as he noticed me in the back of the room. He gave me a weird smile and a nod before he hurried over to Mrs. Stone’s desk.

            “You sit in there,” Mrs. Stone pointed her pen to the left side of the room, far from me. That’s good. The last thing I needed right now was to get all sweaty because he’s right next to me.

            He walked across the room without turning a glance at me, and then sat down.

            “You have until four,” Mrs. Stone declared.