One Temptation

Detention (Chapter 23)

I slouched into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs in the detention room, my arms crossed over my chest, glaring at the clock on the wall.

Of course, he was late. Typical West.

I had walked in here when Mr Winter's was waiting for us in the room. He saw me walk in and muttered something under his breath about West not being in here.

I shrugged, not caring enough to help him out on finding him. Instead I sat down and pulled out my phone to pass some time.

Catching Mr Winters sighing as he looked at me chewing gum and on my phone when I was supposed to be reflecting in detention.

The room was dead silent, apart from the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above me. The place had a weird vibe.

When I told my mom I had to stay back late because of detention, she went into full-blown interrogation mode.

 The second the word "detention" left my mouth, her eyebrows shot up, and she dropped what she was doing like it was a life-or-death situation.

The situation went something like this:

"Detention?" she had asked, "What did you do?"

The problem was, I hadn't planned a good excuse, so my dumbass blurted out the truth: "It's because of me and West. We were being idiots around in class."

Bad move.

Her expression had shifted immediately into a knowing smirk, "Oh, West," she'd said, drawing out, "You're always blaming the poor kid for everything, since you were born, and lately Kaleb has been the main source of you're chaos. You two must be getting real close, huh?"

I'd groaned, "What were you two doing back there? Passing notes? Whispering sweet comments? You know, when I was your age..."

I'd cut her off before she could relive the glory days of her high school crushes.

"Mum, it's nothing like that. We were just... being idiots, okay?"

She didn't buy it for a second. "Sure, sure. Just idiots. So, detention together, huh? Interesting."

I had to practically flee the room to avoid further questioning.

And then there was my dad, the real hurdle. 

But surprisingly, he didn't blow up. He just gave me that look. You know the one—the "I'm not mad, just disappointed" look that hits way harder than anything he could've said.

I felt the weight of his silent judgment as I headed out the door, like it was pressing into the back of my skull the entire walk to school.

There was no way I was going to spend the next hour and a half in silence. 

If Mr. Winters showed up and gave me a lecture about responsibility or maturity or whatever other life lessons he thought we needed, I was going to scream.

I was done with all of it.

And if West—who was the reason I was in this mess—decided to show up late, well, that was his problem. He could suffer through this just like I was.

Just as I was about to completely zone out and count the ceiling tiles for entertainment, the door creaked open, and in strolled Kaleb West, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets like he hadn't a care in the world.

He was late, but of course, he looked completely unbothered by it.

His hair was a mess, like someone had run their hands through it—a lot. It was tousled, but on him, it somehow still managed to look annoyingly good.