Detention (Teacher/Student)

Chapter 3

I woke up the next morning to the alarm on my phone blasting in my ear. I grumbled, reached over and shut it off. I closed my eyes for just a minute to prepare myself for the impossible act of getting up. Only a minute turned into five, which turned into forty-five. Next thing I knew, it was 7:20 and first period Started at 7:30. Cursing myself loudly, there was no way that I would make it on time. It was at least a 20 minute drive from my house.
Pulling on the pair of jeans a lacrosse tournament T-shirt, and some shoes, I raked through my hair with a brush and threw it up into a pony tail. I ran down stairs with my backpack slung over one shoulder. Skipping breakfast, I retrieved my keys and bolted out the door to my car, throwing my stuff in the back and tearing out of my driveway.
I basically sped my way to school. When I got there, I had to park in literally the farthest space from the school. By the time I got inside and to my locker, first period was over. I scolded myself mentally for missing science on the second day of school, and made my way to Spanish.
"Where were you this morning?" Pet asked when I sat down next to her and Chad.
"I woke up late," I explained. "I missed all of first period. I'm not sure Mr. Reynolds is going to be too happy."
Señorita Gomez walked in and greeted us, ending our conversation.
"Hola clase," she said. Whatever she said after that is a mystery to me, since I stopped paying attention. I was too mad a myself, not to mention how screwed up I was from getting up so late.
By math, I was over it. There was nothing I could do, so I chose to stop worrying. Whatever punishment I got, if any, wouldn't change.
Pet, Chad and I walked to the cafeteria together. Since I didn't have time to pack myself any food, I told them I'd meet them at the table and went to get some food. I was starving, and at this point I didn't care where my food came from as long as it was edible. When I got to the cash register, I pulled out a five and handed it to the lunch aid, waiting for change. A familiar voice spoke from behind me.
"Ah, Miss. Bartosik, you decided to show up today. Was it just my class you wanted to skip?"
I spun around to face Mr. Reynolds, who was holding a bottle of iced tea.
"No sir, you see I.." He cut me off, holding his hands up to silence me.
"Save it. You can explain all you'd like in detention today after school," he said.
"Please sir, let me explain," I tried, but he had already walked past me and paid for his drink.
"See you at 3, Miss. Bartosik," he called out, his back to me as he walked away. I sighed angrily, and turned back to the lunch aid. She looked at me sympathetically and shrugged, handing me my change. I walked out into the cafeteria and went to the table that we had sat at the pervious day.
"There you are," Brandon greeted as I sat down next to him. "What's wrong?" He asked, seeing how upset I was.
"Reynolds just gave me a detention," I explained. "He wouldn't even hear me out."
"That sucks, I'm sorry Jas," Pet looked at me sadly.
"Sounds like a real jerk," Kyle chimed in.
"Well in all honesty, I probably deserve it." I shrugged and ate my lunch.

"Okay class, tomorrow we're going to start working. Have a good night everyone," my Economics teacher Mr. Glass called out as we all filed out of his classroom. I stopped by my locker before going to Mr. Reynolds room. When I got to his room, which was at the end of the universe, the door was open so I went inside.
"Good afternoon Miss. Bartosik," Mr. Reynolds said as I walked past his desk and sat down. He finished typing something, and then shut his computer, turning in his chair to look at me. Was he smirking? I couldn't tell.
"Could you not call me that?" I asked with a small hint of attitude. I hate when teachers call you Mr/Miss.
"Okay, Jasmine," he made sure to put emphasis on my name. Did this guy hate me or something?
He stood up, came out from behind his desk, and then sat down on the from edge of it instead.
"So tell me, Jasmine. Why weren't you in class this morning?" He questioned, looking at me intently. It sent shivers down my spine.
"Does it matter? I'm already here. You've already given me the detention," I responded. Mr. Reynolds raised an eyebrow, a small smile creeping onto his lips.
"I'm interested," he rebuked. I sighed, annoyed.
"I woke up late," I replied.
"That's it? You woke up late, nothing else?" He inquired.
"No, not really. I'm not so interesting now, am I?" I rebutted. Honestly, I don't think I'd ever talked back to a teacher before.
"I suppose not," he said, shrugging. "I also suppose you don't have any work to do, considering how early it is in the school year." I shook my head, indicating that he was correct.
"Well then, I guess we'll just have to chat a bit," he spoke again.
"And if I don't want to?" I asked, my tone growing annoyed.
"I can always have you back in here again tomorrow, and the day after. It all depends on how rude you're going to choose to be," he threatened, this time his smirk became more pronounced.
"Whatever," I rolled my eyes. "Don't you have anything better to do?" I asked.
"Like what?" He tilted his head.
"I don't know, go be with your family or something?" I replied.
"Don't have any," he responded nonchalantly. It was only then that I realized he wasn't wearing a ring.
"Oh," was all I could think to say.
"Anything else you want to know?" He asked, returning my attitude. I looked at him, trying to read him but got nothing. The smirk never left his face, as if he could read my mind. It made him look really sexy though. Very sexy. Oh God, what the hell am I thinking? I cannot like my teacher. It never ends well. I learned that in eighth grade.
"No," I muttered, looking down. There was silence for a moment. Mr. Reynolds finally spoke.
"Is something wrong?" His voice was completely different now. It was soft, concerned, and actually sounded genuine.
"No," I said, keeping my eyes on the floor. Memories from eighth grade came flooding into my head, causing my chest to tighten. I closed my eyes, literally in pain from thinking about it. Mr. Reynolds had gotten up and came over to sit down next to me.
"Jasmine, you can talk to me." He said quietly, leaning over the table and towards me slightly. I looked up, my eyes meeting his. I lost myself for a few seconds in them. My face got hot, the hair on the back on my neck standing up. He was looking at me differently than a teacher should be looking at a student. His dark hair partially stuck up in the front from the gel he used in it. His jaw covered in a small amount of stubble, but not hiding how defined it was.
"I..I" stuttered and my voice cracked. I ripped my eyes away from him, afraid of what I might do or what they would show.
"Jasmine, you can trust me," he assured, his voice almost hypnotic. His cologne was intoxicating. My breathing hitched.
"I'm okay. Just a little tired," I lied. There was no way in hell that I was going to tell him what was bothering me.
"You're an awful liar," he said, making me smile slightly. "But you don't have to say anything if you don't want to." I breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at the clock.
"You can go now. You don't have to stay any longer," he said.
"Thank you sir," I said, getting up.
"Don't be late for class tomorrow," he ordered. I nodded, making my way towards the door.
"Jasmine," he called out, making me stop and turn around.
"If you ever want to talk, or need anything...you know where to find me." He said, looking at me. His eyes told me he was being honest.
"Thank you sir," I said again.
"I mean it," he said. I nodded with a small smile, and left. And for probably the tenth time that day, I scolded myself yet again. I was attracted to my teacher once again.