Falling For Mr. Perfect (Daily Updates)

O1 I Met Him In Detention

"I MET HIM IN DETENTION"

"Miss Moore, hand it over."

My thumb continued to scroll through the latest comments on the video I uploaded last week. Cherry, my bestie for life, filmed me singing the newest song I wrote. I danced around the local laundromat, wearing my sister's sparkly purple prom dress, lip-synching to the song I wrote about Daniel McGiffens.

McGiffens. I couldn't believe I ever thought about marrying someone with a last name that sounded like a rejected McDonald's sandwich.

Two months of my life was wasted, but I got a kickass song of it.

"Miss Moore, I'm only going to ask you one more time."

"Faye!" Cherry hissed, from behind me. "It's the last day of school, but she will give you detention."

"Oh. My. God." I whipped around to face Cherry, shoving my phone in her face. "Please tell me I'm not seeing things."

Before I could get confirmation about the comment I just read under my video, the phone was snatched from my hands. I jumped from my seat, ready to slap whoever thought they had the right to touch my things.

But, of course, it was Mrs. Payne. Her beady eyes narrowed at me from behind her glasses. She had a lipstick stain on her front tooth, which I saw because she had a smug grin on her face.

"What is your problem? School's done!" I shouted, fist balled at my side.

Cherry touched my arm, probably to remind me that I couldn't hit a teacher.

"Check the clock, young lady. Until that bell rings, you're mine." She strutted back to her desk where she locked my phone away in a drawer.

Cherry had a vice grip on my wrist now. She knew me too well, because I was two seconds from yanking that old hags wig off.

"Faye!" My friend pleaded with me. Her dark eyes begged me to sit back down. For her sake, I did.

"You can get your phone back after detention," Mrs. Payne informed me before resuming her pointless lecture.

We were minutes away from summer and she was giving out detention slips? What type of sick individual would do that? Someone with last name Payne, apparently.

By the time the bell rang, I calmed down a bit. So, with my most apologetic, puppy dog eyes, I walked up to Mrs. Payne's desk. She didn't bother looking up as she thumbed through a stack of papers, no doubt looking for my mom's work number. I really didn't need her bothering the beast at work.

"Miss Moore, detention is being served in room B15," she told me. "If you're late. That's another thirty minutes."

"Mrs. Payne, I'm so sorry for my outburst." The words flowed easily. Which made sense with how often I said them.

"I'm sure you are." Her beady eyes glanced up at me. "I trust you can find your way to the detention room? Or do you need an escort?"

Biting back another sassy remark, I turned on my heel and stormed into the hallway. I nearly ran down Cherry who had waited for me. Her signature pink and red braids were piled in a bun on top her head looking like my favorite ice cream.