Saturday Detention (5SOS)

Chapter One

Calum:

He was the school jock. The soccer star. Captain of the team and homecoming king. The most popular guy at Cherry Hill High, and here he was, on a Saturday, sitting in a detention room with these losers. He fell asleep until he heard loud banging on his desk and he saw that Michael, the school's troublemaker was behind it all. He knew Michael. They used to be best friends. Until high school rolled around and Michael and him had gone separate ways. He, with the jocks and other popular kids, and Michael with the school's druggies and troublemakers. Because of his status he avoided Michael and kids like him and Michael had avoided him. His mother often asked if he still talked to Michael, and he knew his mother talked with his, so he knew about some of the stuff Michael had done. He couldn't see it though. Michael had always been a little out there, but not a criminal or one to cause a lot of trouble like his way his mother described him. Calum pushed him away from his desk and mumbled "Man, stop it, I'm trying to sleep." This only egged on the boy and he started banging on the desk harder. Calum had had enough and he got up with such a fury, one of the other guy's eyes widen at the sight. "I thought I told you to cut it out!" he yelled at Michael. Michael rolled his eyes. "And you're my fucking mother right? No you're not, so no, I'll do whatever the fuck I please." Michael taunted him and poked Calum's chest with his stubby finger. Calum pushed him, and Michael pushed right back. A boy, a tall, lanky, timid boy, had gotten up to break them apart. "Hey, guys, l-let's just cool down okay? Michael, stop-" the boy, Luke, had said meekly. Michael walked over to Luke and pushed the timid boy back into his desk. "Don't get involved my business okay?" Michael said rudely. The boy just looked down at the desk. "What the fuck is your problem Clifford?" Calum spat out and Michael laughed. "I don't have a problem mate, what's yours?" Calum punched the desk but really, he wanted to punch this kid right in his face. Michael had changed, and he knew from this two minute back and forth bantering that he hated this kid. Michael got right up in his face. "Don't punch the desk you pussy, punch me, we all know you want to. Especially after I tell you your girlfriend ditched your pathetic ass for me last night." That was enough for Calum to completely lose his shit. He pushed Michael right into the chalkboard and whispered something in his ear so low, no one could hear it but Michael. Michael then proceeded to push Calum off of him but Calum pushed him right back and had Michael pinned. "That's exactly what I thought asshole." Calum muttered and went back to his desk.

Luke:

He was the brainiac, the smartest in his class, and probably the smartest at his school. His mother taught math here at Cherry Hill High and never had he been in trouble. He was the boy teachers adored. Smart, kind, and timid, other teachers often complimented his mother, Liz, on what a fine young boy she had raised and how he was destined for big things. But as much as other teachers loved him, other students seemed to hate him. He was often victim to bullying from all types of groups of students. Even freshman had bullied him, but he never said a word back. He was too scared to defend himself. Too scared to fight back. Luke didn't like fighting or confrontation. He didn't belong here, this was a fact. But he was. And he knew that bad actions are only rewarded with punishment, so here he was on a Saturday, sitting in detention with three other rule breakers like himself. His mother had given him a lecture for landing himself here that scared him so much, he thought he was going to pee his pants. His mother was a strict lady. Everything had to be perfect. Luke had to be perfect. And so when Michael pushed him back into the desk, he just looked down and do what he always did, remained quiet.

Michael:

Where to begin with Michael Clifford? This boy had a rap sheet about ten feet long. Okay, not ten feet long, but you get the idea. Michael loved causing trouble. It gave him a thrill to know he was doing something he wasn't supposed to be. He loved stealing stuff, vandalizing property, getting into fights, drugs, alcohol and just causing trouble in general. When he did bother to show up for school, which meant his father grabbing him and literally dragging him into the building, he always did something that got him in trouble. Causing trouble for Michael is as natural as breathing. That would explain why he's here today. And he hadn't even planned to show up, but his father threatened to kick him out if he didn't go and it's not like Michael has anywhere else to go so he smoked a joint and dragged himself here. But, there's another hidden reason Michael does all the stuff he does. He does it for the attention. The crimes, the petty troublemaking, the tattoos he has, his piercings, even his crazy colored hair is just to get attention. He thinks that if he does this stuff, his parents might actually notice him, even if it's not in the way that he wants. He would never admit it though, and it's probably not something he thinks about as he's being belligerent. The only reason he started that fight with Calum was just to get attention. That, and he had a whole bunch of things he wanted to say to his former best friend Calum Hood...

Ashton:

And there's another boy that hasn't been mentioned that's sitting in the detention room. Not that he's hard to miss, because he really isn't. No, he's not the tallest guy, but he certainly is attractive. Curly dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes, and a smile that could melt the coldest heart. And very charming. If you have the pleasure to talk to him. Not that the kid is mean or anything, he's not. He's actually very nice, but he's just sad all the time. And he doesn't get why. He doesn't show this to his family or to anyone though because he has a sense he has to be the strong one, no matter what. If Ashton were happier, he'd be a very happy boy. He remembers the days of being happy. Where the glass looked half full and not half empty. Where every little thing wasn't some giant chore. Where he could look into the mirror and like what he sees. Where he didn't want to just curl up in bed and lie there for an eternity and just cry until he had no more tears left. Where he didn't want to cut himself until he had no more life left. Ashton's a senior, older than these boys he's sitting in this room with so he's not familiar with who they are, but they look like sophomores to him. He just plans to wallow in his seat and write this dumb essay and maybe read a little. He plans to just get through another day.