What's The Worst That I Could Say?

Chapter 19- Our Little Secret

I received a tap on the shoulder, and soon another not long after. Ignoring it, my gaze trailed up towards the ticking clock on the wall that we were all facing. 3:50. Rolling my eyes I softly grumbled to myself, shaking my head in despair. We'd only been in here twenty minutes, but it seemed like a life time.

Suddenly my chair was pulled backwards across the carpet from it's original position, and I almost couldn't stop myself from crying out into the silent detention room. But I luckily did. Alarmed, I whipped my head around and stared at the back metal legs of my chair, seeing two, beat up Converse sneakers conveniently wrapped around the insides of the legs. I glared up at Gerard who sat at the desk behind me, smirking. Idiot.

"I oughta kill you-!" I hissed quietly, fists clenched tightly onto the seat of my chair. I'd tried to keep my threat quiet, but apparently my attempts weren't good enough.

"Miss Phillips?" Mr. Butcher called angrily from his desk. "I hope you're not talking in detention, young lady. We wouldn't like to be here for another half an hour, hmm?" 

I cringed, quickly turning around and facing the balding man, forcing an apologetic smile that he didn't even register. He stared me down for a few more seconds and then grimaced down at the old, leather bound book in his hands, licking his index finger typically and flicking onto the next page. I wrinkled my nose in disgust, huffing as I tried to scoot my chair forwards again, but Gerard kept my chair and I planted in the same spot.

"Ass," I muttered under my breath, much, much quieter this time so Mr. Butcher didn't hear me. I reached down to both of Gerard's legs, waited a few moments, and pinched both of his shins at the same time. Almost immediately his legs spasmed slightly and slithered away underneath his desk, away from my chair. I threw him an smug look over my shoulder. 

Yeah, that's right, bitch. 

Scooting my chair forwards, I checked the clock again, and almost did a double take. Had time gone backwards? No, no, it couldn't have, Helena, you idiot. 3:52. Two minutes had gone. Very, very slowly. Only eight minutes to go.

It was Gerard's fault. If he hadn't of made his way to school this morning at the pace of a snail, then we would've made it on time. But no, according to him he was going at a 'moderate speed'.

Pssht. Sure, whatever. Moderate speed? A sloth could crawl it's way to school faster than he had. Next time we're taking his car. I didn't care if we only lived practically a few blocks from the school, and that fresh air would be good for my hermit of a best friend. I refuse to get detention again, I have better things to do than getting dry threats from a chemistry teacher.

Talking about the scowling man, he was peering at his wristwatch and raising his eyebrows. Reluctantly he shoved his leather bookmark between the two pages open in his book, slamming it shut and placing it on the desk.

"Right, time's up. You may quietly leave."

I wanted to cry out with relief, but settled for a small smile as I carefully stood from my seat. As much as I was over the freaking moon that detention was over, I didn't want to be in here for another thirty minutes. I grabbed my backpack quickly, swinging it up onto my shoulder and beginning to walk down the aisle but two fingers jabbed sharply into my sides, suddenly and painfully.

"HOLDSDSOADSHIERP!" I shrieked, shooting up in the air, luckily missing the ceiling.

Kidding, one my height can only wish.

My unrecognizable jumbled sentence I'd just cried out was meant to come out as a string of disturbing insults and names for my evil bastard of a best friend, but luckily came out the way it had.