"Ah, Mr. Hanson. I haven't seen you once this year... I was starting to wonder what parallel universe I had journeyed into..."
The dean of students, Mrs. Sanchez, motioned for him to come into her office. I crept in behind Brady and stood awkwardly in the doorway.
"You must be Andrea Crewley," she said, searching through folders on her desk.
"Crowley," I corrected.
"Well, that explains why I couldn't find your file." She chuckled to herself.
Was that supposed to be funny? I didn't find it funny. Nothing about this situation was funny. Yet Brady Hanson continued to stare at me with the all-knowing smirk that I hated.
"Ah. Here we go," she muttered, pulling a manila folder out of the pile. "Our computer system isn't working correctly at the moment. It's making everything much more difficult to keep track of..." Mrs. Sanchez explained.
The dean opened my folder and glanced at the papers inside, dragging her finger down the page and mumbling to herself as she read."Oh... You're a new student, yes?"
I nodded slowly, avoiding her gaze.
She beamed a bright smile at me, which, in my opinion, was kind of creepy. "So how do you like Mapleford?"
I shrugged. "It's, uh... Nice." I said lamely. I avoided the urge to tell her that I wouldn't have minded it much if, A; my brother hadn't disowned me, pretending he had no clue who I was between the hours of seven and three on weekdays, and B; Brady Hanson here attended a different high school.
Mrs. Sanchez cleared her throat. "Right. Well, then. I've scheduled a detention for the two of you this afternoon, room 137." She looked from me to Brady with the same disturbingly pleasant smile on her face.
Why is this woman so happy, for Pete's sake!? She's handing out detentions with a grin on her face like she just won the lottery!
"Please tell me you didn't call my mom..." I muttered with my head in my hand, talking more to myself than anyone else.
Mrs. Sanchez chuckled. "Oh, no, Andrea. I only call parents on the second detention they receive. But if you'd rather me explain to her why you're late coming home this afternoon, I wouldn't mind giving her a telephone c—"
"No!" I said, much more panicky than I had planned to. "No... I'll tell her. Thanks anyway."
With any luck I could convince my mother that I stayed after for extra help in math.
The bell rang, indicating the end of the school day. Although, not for me and Brady. The dean handed us our detention slips with, once again, a smile on her face. "Room 137," she reminded us. "They'll be a teacher in the room to make sure you don't leave until 3:45."
I nodded and picked up my stuff before hastily leaving the office. Brady sauntered after me casually.
"Why the hurry, Crowley?" he called after me. I picked up speed, but he was able to catch up to me without even trying.
The hallways were just about empty now as we made our way to the assigned classroom.
"You seem very calm about this situation," I sneered, keeping my head forward and my gaze away from him.
