Pastel Punk [Phan] ♡ HIATUS

Chapter Three

❀ Chapter Three ❀

The only time I had seen the detention room was when I passed by it on my way to my ceramics elective back in 5th form. I always knew to avoid any degenerates who stepped foot behind that secured, blurred-out door, because I knew it always let to bad things. But now, physically standing in front of the detention room door was on a whole new level for me. I had become the person I quaked in fear of.

The mere thought of it sent shivers down my spine.

I'm not exactly sure how long I stood there, hand hesitantly wavering over the doorknob, breathing steadily as I stood face-to-face with a wooden slab with the classroom number 132 printed on the side. I forced myself to grip the knob, twist it, and pull myself through the doorway. When I went inside, I felt my heart drop to my stomach. I wasn't the only one in there.

Four males sat in the dead center of the evenly spaced rows of desks. Their leather-boot-clad feet were kicked up on the tables and they were chatting to each other loudly. One of them was blasting tinny screamo music from their music player's tiny speaker and bobbing his head to the beat. Overall, they seemed extremely cocky, like they enjoyed the feeling of them basking in their own awesomeness. They just gave off that kind of scary aura, basically warning you not to mess with them or you'd face the extreme consequences.

I immediately recognized them as the vandals from the library. In fact, I nearly dropped my Chem textbook in surprise.

No wait, I spoke too soon. I actually did drop it.

The heavy book fell from my fingertips and sailed through the ground, only to smash down on my foot. I yelped in pain, shaking the textbook off of me and hopping around as I cradled my throbbing foot. Tears brimmed on the rims of my eyes and I fought them back, falling to the floor in agonizing pain.

The four males began to guffaw obnoxiously, clearly not showing any sympathy or having the intention of holding back their laughter. Their loud belts of laughter bounced around me, and I felt a concoction of anger and embarrassment boil up inside my stomach. The pain in my toes finally subdued to a dull ache and I composed myself, swallowing nervously.

"You alright there, girlie?" One of them spoke up. He had an impish grin on his face and was clearly amused by the performance I just put on.

I stumbled over my words - and my feet - as I bent over to pick up the textbook again. I didn't want to say anything that'd set off these infamous people. So rebellious, so condescending, so badass. They'd most likely beat me up if they were given the chance. And since there was no teacher currently in the room, that possibility was definitely plausible. "I-I'm fine," I ducked my head away, walking towards the teacher's desk in the front and grabbing a detention form. My fingers shook as I picked it up, and looking to avoid all eye contact, I sat in the first chair of the first row.

"Hey, he's the one from the library!" The one that liked music said, speaking with a Northern drawl, similar to the leader's, except not as scorching. "This is certainly a surprise! What are you in here for, girlie?" He asked, sounding cheery on the outside, but it seemed like more of a bemused, teasing tone for me. Girlie? Wow, what a creative insult, I thought with heavy sarcasm.

"I-I-," My eyes averted to my neon-pink detention pass. "I disrespected a teacher." I read aloud, straining to decipher Mr. Albert's messy chicken-scratch writing.

"You? Disrespecting the teacher?!" The same male said, shocked. "Damn, I'm kinda amazed. You look like too much of a pansy to even ask if you can go to the toilets," He shook his head. I heard quiet shuffling, boots squeaking, and a shift in the seat adjacent to mine.

"Have you squealed about us yet?" Another one said gruffly, scooting over to sit at the desk behind me. My eyes widened in fear and I shook my head furiously at him, shrinking down in my chair, wishing I could disappear like one of those cheesy magic acts at primary students' birthday parties.