By the time I got home, it was definitely later than I expected. Adam said he wouldn't mind how late, but could I really depend on that offer? My punishment could've been worse though; it could've been so bad that I wouldn't even have arrived home. I respected Daren's choice because it was something unpleasant for me and satisfied the school at the same time. Want to hear? I just spent the last few hours of my life cleaning the school gymnasium. My shoulders were sore from scrubbing, my knees hurt, and the whole time I was cursing that the soccer team had practice right after the fields were fertilized. You know what that means? Goose poop everywhere. Well, Mr. Peterson was happy that I was in the disgusting pit of torture doing what no one else wanted to do. When those friendly janitors who sometimes bet with each other heard what I was doing for them, they were nice enough to send their best bucket and heavy duty gloves. Daren's punishment order was specific enough to say no mop. I was literally the scrubbing maid on my hands and knees with bucket water, sometimes brown, splashed everywhere. At said point, I'd lug it outside to be dumped and then refill it with a hose they have on the side of the building.
The floors weren't the only thing that needed to be clean, though. And of course, once I finished a whole wipe down, Daren visited with a cart of cleaning supplies informing me that the next part was antibacterial supplies. I was required to spray and wipe the walls, the bleachers, the doors, and that was all before the locker rooms came into play. I'm not a squeamish girl, okay. I walked boldly into the boy's locker room, but honestly, was numb when I came out. Some implied hygienic things taken for granted seemed to not even exist in the boys' room. Not only did I earn a huge amount of respect for custodians, but I was also very grateful for the quality of the yellow gloves.
How could it have been worse? Why am I so positive about my situation saying it wasn't that bad? Daren sent me to the library for training time. Once the soccer team finished and left, I was called up to begin cleaning. He didn't have to do that. Daren gave me that time to complete my homework as well as a research paper on military war strategy he assigned as part of punishment. While cleaning, Daren didn't stay to watch. Even if that seems like something that doesn't count, it would've bothered me if I wasn't alone. To keep me company, Daren hooked my iPod up to the gym's speaker system. All of these things meant that Daren cared a little bit and was giving me tough love. Not tough enough? You go clean the boys' locker room. At least in the girls' locker room I knew what I was touching.
Once home, I got a much needed shower to rid myself of the dirtiness and chemical fumes. I then spent five minutes staring at the phone number in my notebook and the cell phone in my hand. I'd glance at the clock and make a whimpering noise. Finally, out of annoyance with myself, I dialed the number and hit the green phone before debating with myself for five more minutes.
It picked up after two rings. "Hello?"
The phone made his voice deeper and more gravelly, but I recognized it as Adam's. Other voices were in the background reaching buoyant frequencies and then dying down. I gulped.
"Hi, um. This is Nell. I know it's late, but--" he cut me off.
"Nell! We've been wondering whether you would skip out on us. The boys and I are at the pizza place on the corner of Broods Avenue. Do you know where it is?"
I vaguely remembered a very modern pizza place Ben had told me to avoid on Tuesdays. Today was a Monday; I could go and hangout.
"Yeah, sure. I'll be right there," I said as I hopped off my bed and slipped on my better-looking boots.
"Do you have a car?" he asked.
"Nope." The car always belonged to Ben because I ran everywhere. True, it was illegal on some highways or trespassing on lawns, but the town was easily accessible without breaking any laws.
