TEENS

Chapter 3

“Are you seriously still mad at me?”

“In case you haven’t realized, which I am pretty positive you have, we are sitting in detention.”

Jemma twirled a strand of my hair around her finger. “You know, blondes aren’t supposed to be smart. Yet, here you are, rambling on about education and detention and college.”

“For your information, blondes can be smart.”

“Yeah,” Jemma said, her own brown curls bouncing on her shoulders. “That’s why I said they aren’t supposed to be,”

“I used to be a blonde,” Goth girl said from behind us.

I turned around to look at her and took her in her long, jet black hair and skull zipper on her leather jacket. “Really?”

She nodded, hopping down from the desktop she was sitting on. “But just because I told you that, doesn’t mean we’re now best friends.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,”

“Good,”

Jemma looked disgusted. “That is why we don’t bond with those beneath us.”

“Can still hear you,”

“I’m sure you can,” Jemma replied, her nails digging into my arm. “See?”

Mr. Fernandez walked back into his room and smiled when he saw us all. “Ah, so nice to see such young faces.”

“You see us everyday, Mr. Fernandez,”

“That attitude,” Mr. Fernandez said, pointing to her. “Gotta work on it, Paulina.”

Paulina chuckled, sitting to the right of me. She was African American, with curly black hair and long legs. She too, looked like she could be a model. One of those exotic ones that you see plastered on billboards and magazine covers. Yet, something told me that wasn’t her forte. She looked over at me and stuck out her tongue. I giggled.

“Something funny, Ms. Lane?”

“Yes,” I said. “I’m in detention. Doesn’t that sound kind of funny to you?”

“I must admit, it is queer seeing you in here for something other than extra credit.”

“Which is why?”

“Which is why what?”

Exasperated, I clasped my hands together. “Which is why you’ll let me go,”

Mr. Fernandez shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. Maybe you shouldn't have defended your friend back there,”

“But,” I placed a hand on Jemma, “No offense or anything, but I didn’t defend her. I didn’t even say anything,”

“Again,” Paulina said. “She really didn’t,”

Just then, Wren walked into the room. I was ready to faint this time, totally confused as to what was happening. He looked around the room, first at Mr. Fernandez, then toward the back, and finally his gaze landed on mine. We stared at each other for a moment, long enough for Jemma to smack me and then hiss, “I see you.”

“Um, sorry,” he said slowly, obviously trying to avoid eye contact with me. “I just have to get Kari,”

“Why?” Paulina asked, and then slapped a hand over her mouth. I was happy she asked, though, because I was wondering the same thing.

Wren, however, ignored her. “Kari, can I—“

“I’m sorry, Wren, but you’ll have to wait. Kari and the rest of these girls have something to discuss,”

Wren was clearly annoyed, as he ran his tongue over his teeth and moved toward the door. Jemma looked back and forth between him and Kari, just as confused as everyone else in the room. Mr. Fernandez walked in front of his desk and leaned back onto it, crossing his legs over each other.

“Ladies, I’m sure you realized that what happened today was disrespectful and disruptive to everyone else in the class. And to me as well,”

“Conceited, much?” Jemma said in I guess what she thought was under her breath.

“Ms. Rodriquez, I can hear you.”

“Thank you!” Goth girl threw her hands in the air. “Someone else agrees,”

“Lyle, please, do not interrupt me.” Mr. Fernandez was serious now, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes in slits. You would’ve thought we had put graffiti all over the school. “You all know that you will have to somehow make up for today,”

“That’s why we’re in detention,” Paulina said.

“False,” Mr. Fernandez pulled a ruler out of nowhere and slapped his desk behind him. We all jumped, including Wren. “That is not what I was talking about.”

“Are you hinting at what I think you’re hinting at?” I asked.

Jemma rolled her eyes. “Here we go,”

“And what would that be?”

“Extra credit?” I could no longer contain the smile on my face. “Can we fix this by extra credit?”

Mr. Fernandez furrowed his brow. “Um, well, yes. That’s a good idea, better than mine.”

I immediately jumped out of my seat and ran up to hug Mr. Fernandez as Paulina asked, “What else could you possibly plan on making us do?”

He coughed and pushed me away, and then proceeded to scratch his goatee in bewilderment. I looked over at Wren and he was smirking until he saw my face. I slid back into my seat and waited to actually hear what the full assignment was. Jemma stared at me in disbelief.

“It does not matter, Paulina,” Mr. Fernandez was smiling brightly. “Because Ms. Lane just gave me the best idea. A project,”

“A project?” Jemma moaned. “Seriously?”

“On anything, anything at all. But you have to relate it to science, somehow,”

“I’m out,” Jemma said, examining her cuticles. “That is way too much work for one gal,”

“Then we’ll do it together,” I chimed in as fast as I could, even though it hurt me a bit inside.

“You do know that means you’ll be doing all the work, right?”

“Why would you say that?” I asked.

Jemma shrugged as Mr. Fernandez clapped his hands to silence us. “Okay, okay. You’ll do the projects individually,”

“Or, we could do it all together and all be assigned some part of the project. That way, everyone has to at least do something and pull their own weight,” Paulina tried.

“Yeah, and then you could give us all separate grades, then average it together so that everyone benefits.” I added. “It’s perfect,”

“I still don’t get it,” Jemma said.

“Of course,”

“Listen, loser,” Jemma basically growled.

“Actually, the name’s Lyle,”

“Even more weird,”

“Girls!” Mr. Fernandez clapped his hands. “Please, before I changed my mind.”

“No, please, don’t. Look, a group project sounds great, just count Kari out of it.” Wren said, suddenly reminding us all that he was in the room. “Okay? Kari, let’s go.”

“Someone’s bossy,” Jemma muttered.

Wren looked over and glared at her as Kari shuffled to get her stuff. Mr. Fernandez seemed like he wanted to say something, but the blue-eyed glare he got from Wren probably told him otherwise. Without another word, Wren and Kari left the room. The rest of us sat in an awkward silence that seemed to last until the bell rang.

“Well, tell me your idea by the end of this week.”

Easier said than done.