Because Who Could Love A Broken Girl? ✔️

Who Could Love Detention(s)

Skylar's P.O.V.

It's now Tuesday. Which frankly, I think is just as bad as Monday.

It's when it already feels like a long week, and you've still got three more days before break.

In other words, Tuesday's are shit.

It's currently last period, which is hell for many reasons.

One, people are still talking about me.

Two, I don't have Grayson, or any of my friends with me.

Three, I still don't speak French.

And four, I have detention in a few minutes.

As expected, Grayson did end up getting himself into trouble.

At least I'll have him with me when I face Mr. Coulsher.

He looks to be around fifty years old, has hair like Justin Bieber, and wears shirts that wouldn't even fit me.

Yeah.

He's our gym teacher too, but doesn't mind that as much as running detention.

He hates puppies, he hates sunshine, he hates kids, and he hates happiness.

That's why he's a teacher.

He just loves torturing innocent children.

I somehow managed to remain on his good side through my Freshman and Sophomore years.

Though about half way through my Junior year, I sneezed in the middle of his lecture.

So, he hates me.

Fun.

Soon enough, the bell rings and students pile out of the classroom, dispersing as they meet their separate friend groups.

And then there's me.

I awkwardly walk down the hall on my own, knowing that the art room is across the school, and the soonest Grayson can get here is around three minutes from now.

"Hey there, Princess."

Or three seconds.

I turn around with a confused smile, watching as my boyfriend pushes himself away from the wall he had been leaning on.

He walks over and pecks my forehead, smiling sightly.

"How are you here already?" I ask curiously.

"I have super speed." He replies casually, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

I roll my eyes, earning a chuckle in return.

"Okay, fine. I asked to go to the bathroom ten minutes ago and didn't go back."

I scoff. "Of course."

He grins and slings an arm lazily over my shoulders, leading me toward the detention room.

"So, I was thinking."

"That's dangerous." I mutter.

He ignores my comment and keeps his attention focused on the hall in front of us.

"I think that you should show me your prom dress."

I raise an eyebrow. "And why would I do that?"

"You know, so I can find out what color tie to get."

I purse my lips together in amusement.

"And is that the only reason?"

He looks to me for a moment and nods silently.