Held Back

CHAPTER 5

When I got home that night I was surprised not to find Dominic there too. "He's got a game on," Tristan explained.

"And you're not going to watch him?"

"You know sports aren't my thing."

"You're kidding! Since when?!" I acted shocked.

"Ha-ha, very funny." I dropped back into the sofa's cushions so Tristan and I touched arm to arm. I rested my head on his shoulder and filled him in on the scene today in the cafeteria. "Well what did you expect you nong?" he asked once I had finished.

"Argh I don't know," I said as I buried my face in my hands.

*

The following day I was taking notes on Frida Kahlo's art techniques in class when Mr. Butler dropped a yellow slip on my desk and I knew exactly what it meant. There is a colored slip for nearly everything in this school and this one meant a meeting with my favorite dean: Sledgehammer.

Awesome.

I leave my books out on my desk and head off to Ms. Renny's office. "Ah, Ms. Avery. Won't you please take a seat." She has a gift for turning what are usually questions into commands. I reluctantly did as I'm told but I was careful not to look too much like an angsty teen because I wanted to try stay on her good side; even though I was already failing miserably. "Hi Ms."

"Now, I have received word that you were extremely late for you English class yesterday. Wednesday the 17th to be specific."

"I'm pretty sure I was there on time..."

"So it was a mistake on Mrs. Stenson's part then?"

"I guess, but that's fine." She didn't move, not even a flinch. "Everyone makes mistakes," I added.

"Mmm, yes. Well I 'guess'," she said in a tone I think was supposed to mimic mine, "I guess, Mr. Fletcher our school caretaker also made a mistake when he told me he saw you leaving the school grounds? At, ah, 11:15am I believe he said it was."

She's loving this.

"Oh that's right! I totally forgot. I did go home yesterday but only to grab my French assignment," I rushed the second part of that sentence before she could interrupt.

"You are aware that students are not permitted to leave school grounds unless instructed to by a teacher. Did Miss Moreau 'mistakenly' forget to mention that she gave you such permission? Or have you run out of stories to tell."

Stories may not spring to my mind but a few other words do...

"No. No, I went without permission."

She smiled a belittling smile. "Mmm. Well lucky for you," she started as she reached into the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a stack of pink slips, "Ms. Miles is holding a detention after school today. How about, you serve one hours detention with her and then we can forget this unfortunate event." She tore of the slip and handed it me. Yet another question that was actually a command. She was smirking so broadly her cold eyes had been reduced to slits.

Bite your tongue. Don't make it worse.

I forced a smile that didn't look half as fake as hers and nodded in agreement. "That sounds good, thank you Sle- Ms Renny."

"Good. Now off to class."

I stood to leave her small office. "And Ms. Avery," I looked back at her over my shoulder, "lets not have any more of these 'mistakes'. Hmm?" I nodded and then I turned and left. I crumpled the slip up in my hand and tried to keep a neutral face as I walked through the school admin. As I rounded out of the waiting area and into the councilor's quarters, I saw Harry through a blinded window.

He was sitting hunched back in a chair opposite a women with spikey white hair and black spectacles. His legs are stretched towards the ground in front of him and he was leaning into his large hand. I kept walking and wondered what he was doing in the councilor's office. I couldn't read his facial expression...

*

I ended the day with French and told Abby all about my run in with Sledgehammer and my second detention. "That sucks! Why does she dislike you so much?"

"I have no idea, I wish somebody could tell me though."

When the lesson ended I hugged Abby goodbye and made for the detention room.

What if Harry's there?...

I arrived a few minutes later and saw that there were only three other students in the room. I handed my crumpled up slip to Ms. Miles. She peered up at me through her purple spectacles questionably and I smiled in return. Ms. Miles was a history teacher and she had worked at the school since my mum came here. Ms. Miles, as sweet as she was, was your average cat lady. That's not me being stereotypical or anything but she always had cat fur on her clothes. Every day she wore interesting combinations of patterns, colors, and fabrics and all of her clothes came from second hand stores.

I took a seat at the back of the class and waited. At 10 minutes past, Ms. Miles announced that detention had started and went over all of the rules of detention before she settled back behind her desk with her weekly knitting magazine. I listened to the sound of the cars that drove on the road outside the school and the sound of gum being chewed loudly by the girl with the low cut top.

Let the torture to commence.