Kissing Booth || Jarren

[ 10 ] That Stupid Kiss

"Well? What's going on?" Mr. Carter demanded.

Justin lowered his head, desperately avoiding eye contact. Panic engulfed his mind and his brain ceased all thought processing. All he could do was sit hunched over at his desk, waiting for Darren's response to the teacher.

"My bad," Darren snorted. "Lost my balance." His tone was sarcastic and insincere. He clearly had no intention of trying to weasel his way out of this.

From the way his skin prickled uncomfortably, Justin knew the King was watching him. Evidently, Mr. Carter noticed as well. Justin winced upon hearing the teacher's next words.

"To take responsibility for disrupting my class, you and Justin can stay behind and clean the classroom. Once you finish, you will report to the office for detention," he said crossly.

Justin shrank even farther into his chair as a wave of guilt washed over him. Mr. Carter was one of his favorite teachers. He felt ashamed to have upset him.

"Yes, sir," he mumbled quietly. He refused to turn around, instead casting a sidelong glance at Regie who offered a frown. Justin groaned and folded his arms onto his desk, burying his face into his jacket sleeve.

Behind him, table legs screeched against the tile floor as Darren dragged it back into place and sat down. A few students began whispering amongst themselves but went silent after Mr. Carter shot them a warning look.

Justin suppressed a sigh. It was going to be another long class period. He remained slumped over his desk until the final bell rang, at which point he began shoving his belongings into his backpack. Regie gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before shuffling away.

By now, Justin had nearly gone numb from the number of times he'd heard his name muttered under someone's breath. Or rather, a derivative of his name. Sojuphan, King kisser, bitch, and more.

"Hey, loverboy."

Justin raised an eyebrow. That weird nickname again... he didn't understand the meaning behind it.

A shadow fell over Justin's bag as the King stepped forward. He quickly turned away, facing the other direction. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with that asshole right now. His current agenda was to get the punishment over with as soon as possible and go home.

To his utter annoyance, Darren completely failed to acknowledge the unsociable indication and came even closer. He must be spitting mad after being humiliated in front of the entire class.

Justin held his breath, preparing to release his delicate strings of sanity into the wind. How much worse could he possibly make his life by punching Darren out then and there? No North Star High student had ever been expelled for getting into a fight. Suspended, perhaps, but the notion honestly sounded kind of appealing. At least he wouldn't have to see the King's ugly face.

He felt a hard tap on his shoulder blade and slowly turned his head, tensing the muscles in his arms.

Darren eyed him with a level gaze. When he spoke, his voice was cool and casual, not a trace of irritation to be found. "Carter says we have to clean the whiteboard. And sweep the classroom," he informed.

Justin stared at him with a blank expression, not quite processing. Darren raised an eyebrow and watched him for a couple of heartbeats. Then he picked up the nearest chair and flipped it upside down, sliding it onto a desk before moving on to repeat the process.

When he got to the third chair, Justin gave his head a vigorous shake, snapping out of his trance. He began to copy Darren, stacking the chairs to clear the floor. Together, they moved at a respectable pace, working their way down the rows in just a few minutes.