Two lives.

17. The Detention Chronicles

"I hate this teacher," Caylus mouthed dramatically from across the room, his face exaggerated into a look of pure suffering.

"Me too," I mouthed back, stifling a laugh as I shifted in my seat.

It turned out I was supposed to have been going to school this whole time, but no one ever gave me a class schedule. I had just assumed... well, that I didn't have to. That theory was shot down when the staff did a surprise room check one morning and found me passed out in bed. I still remember the look on their faces—part confusion, part are you serious right now?

That's how I ended up in the office, accused of skipping class. After a long explanation and a lot of awkward silence, they realized I genuinely had no clue what I was supposed to be doing. They let me off the hook but made it crystal clear I'd be attending school from now on.

Now I'm stuck sitting through four hour-long classes every day until June 7th. After that, the school transforms into a summer program for "troubled" students—whatever that means.

Honestly, I've always hated school. It's like a factory for boredom. But strangely, being here doesn't feel so bad.

First period is health class with Ophelia and Andi. Ophelia, as expected, does all the work while Andi and I dissolve into fits of laughter over things that are probably not even that funny. "That's not even remotely funny," Ophelia says at least three times a day, rolling her eyes. She's wrong, of course.

Second period is language arts, the only subject I've ever been good at. I share that class with Skin and Ekko. Ekko usually sits quietly, jotting down notes, while Skin leans back in his chair like he's trying to defy gravity. I actually enjoy this one, maybe because it doesn't feel like work—more like figuring out puzzles with words.

Third period is social studies, the most boring class ever. Don't get me wrong I love learning history, but I have no one in the class so I mostly sit in that class staring at the wall.

Fourth period—and my last class of the day—is math with Caylus. I'm convinced the universe gave me Caylus as a desk partner just for the entertainment value. Today, he's made it his mission to annoy our math teacher with increasingly ridiculous questions.

"Miss Anders, if a train leaves Chicago at 7 a.m. and another train leaves Los Angeles at 9 a.m., what are the odds they both derail in Nebraska?" Caylus asks with a perfectly serious face.

The teacher doesn't even look up from her desk. "Caylus, stop."

He turns to me, grinning. "She didn't even calculate the odds. Lazy." He said trying not to break character but doing the opposite and starting to laugh.

I shake my head, smirking. With Caylus, every math class feels like a comedy show disguised as algebra.

Despite myself, I'm starting to appreciate the rhythm of it all—the classes, the banter, the strange little routines we've all fallen into. Even if it's only until June 7th, at least I've got these moments to carry me through.

"So, what are we actually supposed to be doing?" Caylus asked, leaning over with a dramatic sigh. His pencil spun between his fingers, but it was clear he'd already given up on the worksheet in front of us.

I glanced at him, equally confused and annoyed by the jumble of questions Miss Anders had handed out. "You think I have any idea?" I muttered, pushing the paper aside.

"Yeah, don't know why I even asked," he replied with a smirk. He leaned back in his chair and pulled out his phone. His grin widened as he unlocked it, holding it up so I could see. "Wanna play a game?"